Gay Times Magazine

BROTHERHOO­D

Ste an Zachiyah leads a conversati­on on what it means to be a trans man of colour in the UK.

- Words Steffan Zachiyah / / Fashion Umar Sarwar / / Producer Lewis Corner

Steffan Zachiyah leads a conversati­on of six inspiratio­nal British trans men of colour, tackling being ‘stealth’ in the workplace, visibility, and their experience­s of dating.

As a black man of the trans experience, the stru¢les I’ve faced do not define me, but my story is history for those currently in pain. Before I began my medical transition, I was pretty much drawn to the epitome of the female form external to my own. Did this define me as a lesbian for society’s basic understand­ing of sexuality? Yes for them, no to me. My gender identity only surfaced when I began to understand the concept of gender roles through culture, religion and social class. Living up to these expectatio­ns was always put on a pedestal for me because I believed that the only way for me to be fully accepted was to transition medically, and evolve into the man I always saw myself to be i.e. alpha male, dominant, provider, leader which later displayed itself as bitter, competitiv­e, narcissist­ic, dogmatic, ignorant and homophobic. Funnily enough, I even recall wanting to become ‘a man of God’ as I idolised my pastor and his wife’s living dynamic. Everything I envisioned myself to be was based upon the ideology of the stereotype. Fast forward seven years and the veil was removed.

I quickly learned that I was hypnotised by toxic masculinit­y and searched for ways to unpack this notion of ‘what a man is supposed to be’. First, I had to understand how important it was for me to accept the gender I was assigned at birth to live a life fulfilled with purpose, before beginning my medical transition. Secondly, I began unpacking psychologi­cal traumas with counsellor­s who would help me find ways to eliminate this overpoweri­ng feeling of dysphoria. This was executed by learning to empower and appreciate the female form internally, as well as finding the balance between both the masculine and feminine energy that resided within me.

Thirdly, my journey to surgery land began. As soon as I reached a point of satisfacti­on in surgery land, I became complacent. I no longer wanted to be identified as a trans man, I just wanted to be acknowledg­ed as Steffan the filmmaker. A tiny part of me just wanted to experience life without labels that set us apart and be perceived as a cis-het male. I wanted to rid myself entirely of the LGBTQ spectrum, because I still wasn’t ready to fully accept that this is the way it is always going to be. So I went into ‘stealth mode’ to avoid the judgement, the criticism, the constant questions, the embarrassm­ent. It was my shield, my protection, my AK47. I was always loaded with ammunition ready to fire at anyone who misgendere­d me or refused to accept my decision to transition. I yearned for validation from other sources and it ate me alive, so being stealth was the only way I know I could live the life I always dreamed of free from personal attack.

It was only until a year ago, another veil was removed. I decided to put the ego in the backseat and take full ownership of the part of me that was neglected. This all started when I got invited to be a part of an LGBTQ podcast panel for Qmmunity hosted by Christania McPherson - co-founder of AZ Mag - and Alexis Caught. Sharing my story with an audience who was keen on learning more about how it feels to be trans liberated me from the shackles that had stalled me for so long. Here I found true freedom.

The idea of this feature was conceived after meeting with Lewis Corner from Gay Times who also shared the Qmmunity podcast panel with me. We both realised how important it would be to shed light on the ‘Black British transman’ experience as the only role models we had on our journeys through transition­ing were Americans. I casted five guys who have had a huge impact on me, and our close knit community to feature in this photoshoot, as well take part in a conversati­on on the lived experience of black trans men in the UK.

Cairo Nevitt was the first transgende­r man in the UK to feature in a mainstream fitness magazine, while Xavier Alexander is the creator of UK’s first support group for Trans Men of Colour [TMOC]. Roshaante Anderson is a YouTube sensation and advocate who exercises controvers­ial topics through bold and expressive visuals that have accumulate­d overnight success since launching in 2018. Nathaniel Marco Smith is another YouTube sensation for the next gen of trans youth and an inspiratio­n to myself as someone who isn’t afraid to authentica­lly be themselves. And finally, Cole J Daniel is a YouTuber, mentor and activist who appeared on Channel 4’s Trans Kids – It’s Time To Talk. In the famous words of Chronixx, we are legends, heroes that nobody celebrates, but if one person remembers our names, that means we’ve made a change.

Ste an:

So first up I want to know how we all feel after today’s shoot?

Cairo:

I just felt it was really empowering. I haven’t had top surgery yet, but I felt empowered with you all – like a brotherhoo­d.

Cole:

To be bouncing off each other as well, and having that brotherhoo­d, that bond, and that thing that binds us all as people, it’s just been a great experience.

Roshaante:

I’ve just been happy to be with my boys on set, and we’re here to make history, sort of. It’s been really good.

Nathaniel:

For me, I’ve never met these guys before, so this is the first time we’ve hung out and it felt so natural.

Ste an:

I think it was really inspiring for me to actually see you, Cairo, to bravely embrace you for who you are on set. I know for a fact, with me preop, I probably wouldn’t have found the courage to do so. But we have each other and we’ve all been on similar journeys, so it’s even more empowering to be courageous and express yourself unapologet­ically as who you are. So that really inspired me today.

Cairo:

Yeah, I had met some of you before this, but I think being on set today and knowing that everyone has the same kind of understand­ing and compassion, that has given me the courage to be brave. When you’re made to feel like an outsider you feel more dysphoria because people look at you differentl­y, but I could feel comfortabl­e with you guys because I know you understand. Everyone’s different, but we all understand what it means to experience dysphoria and to embrace your true self.

Xavier:

I felt pretty nervous going into the shoot, but when I remembered what we are doing and the reasons why we’re doing it, it was just a very powerful thing. We could potentiall­y be role models to the future.

Ste an:

What are the bi¢est stru¢les that you guys face as trans men here in the UK? Roshaante: People not knowing that I am a black trans man. Like, walking around in everyday life, socialisin­g, going out and partying, and people not knowing. It’s not evident.

Ste an:

Would you prefer people to know about you being trans, or would prefer to remain stealth?

Roshaante:

If I could have it my own way, I’m not going to lie, I would want people to know. Only because I don’t have the time and patience to keep on telling different people. And when you tell someone you’re trans it’s quite self-explanator­y. If you don’t know, I’ll educate you. But it’s much better when people know. It saves you the hassle. You know who you are, there’s no conversati­on about it. Done.

Cole:

I find as well, exactly like you were saying Roshaante, when people don’t know I find I get profiled and prejudiced and get people approachin­g you and looking at you differentl­y in society in general. I’ve found that when women walk past me they hold their bag closer to them just because they now see me as a black cis man. You experience a whole different side of society compared to what you would as a black female.

Roshaante:

I would prefer for people to give it to me raw. I want people to address me as how I am, and who I am. When you literally leave yourself vulnerable, so people know your entire life story and about you being a trans guy. It’s so much simpler than when you have to constantly repeat yourself to people. It also saves yourself the hassle of having to go back and forth with different people, and you can actually just live. This is what this life is about, it’s about having fun. It isn’t talking about being trans all the time. I’m a black trans man, I’m sexy, I’m successful, that’s all it is!

Nathaniel:

For me I think I’d say the bi¢est stru¢le is actually finding another black trans man. Before this group you’d only find them in the US. I saw Steffan and I saw Xavier, and I think I messaged you, and he popped off the group. But before that there was literally nothing. There was no way of connecting with all the trans black men in the UK. So that is a stru¢le. When you’re young and you don’t actually know what this is, like, ‘How do I transition?’ You only ever see white cases and you can’t actually relate. It’s like, ‘What will I look like?’

Xavier:

Before I transition­ed, the fear I had was becoming a statistic. Being profiled. Being jumped in the street for no other reason than just being a black man. And so all those types of feelings were going through my head. And then also just feeling alone. I didn’t know of any black trans

 ?? Photograph­y Hidhir Badaruddin / / ??
Photograph­y Hidhir Badaruddin / /

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