Giselle Malry

In the quiet suburbs of Lanham, Maryland, a young Black transgender girl named Giselle blossomed like a wildflower pushing through a crack in the sidewalk.

From a young age, she knew she was a girl, though she kept that close as she navigated school and weekend trips to the skating rink. She came out as gay in middle school, and her mother, at first unsure, allowed her to explore her identity.

Eventually, Giselle began to sing in the church choir, her voice rising like a prayer. By the time she graduated high school, she was a beacon of hope for everyone like her, but she hadn’t found her full potential. 
 

As a young adult, Giselle decided to come out as a woman and embrace her full identity. She got on hormone therapy and started to live her own truth, regardless of what those around her had to say about it. Unfortunately, this decision ultimately meant she had to leave her home — her family did not yet understand how to engage with her as a woman. 
 

Trying to find work and housing as a Black transgender woman cut off from her community of origin left Giselle with very few choices. She knew that she could not go back to living a false life, that she had to find work and community to affirm her and her truths. She ended up doing sex work and was immediately embraced by a large community of empowered women who protected each other, showing her the ropes and how to carry herself with pride and safety. 
 

Unfortunately, with sex work, she faced a wave of new challenges — safety concerns, stigma, and emotional trauma. These were not caused by the sex work itself or by the beautiful community of women who supported each other.

They were caused by criminalization, police harassment and brutality, poverty, and a system that targeted trans women who stood out, not predators. She ended up incarcerated three times, not really because of the sex work but because of having to survive on her own at 18. Once she was caught in the system, she spent 12 years trying to escape the cycle. 
 

Over time, Giselle reconciled with her family of origin and her mother became her biggest supporter. Giselle also began to find better paths for herself. And her confidence grew as she stayed rooted in her worth, refusing to let her past define her, focused on the future and her dreams of advocacy and public speaking.
 

As Giselle walked through the familiar streets of DC, she saw friends and peers caught in the same cycles of struggle she had escaped, some turning to risky paths, others losing hope. But Giselle kept her gaze steady, remembering that she was on her own path and her own journey. 
 

Giselle ultimately found connections through No Justice, No Pride DC, a queer- and trans-led activist coalition opposing the commercialization and law enforcement involvement in Pride and seeking the defunding of police and decriminalization of poverty, sex work, and drugs.

She spoke at the DC Trans March about the interconnectedness of trans and cis women and the importance of trans women in the movement for women’s liberation. She also spoke about the danger of police to trans women, sex workers, and formerly incarcerated people and how strengthening our own communities is ultimately how we will stay safe. 

Giselle was chosen to receive support from the DC Survivor Support Fund, a mutual aid project that allowed her to focus on her future beyond her immediate survival. It allowed her to buy a car, have regular access to the basics of living, and have time and space to do activist work. 
 

It was through the DC Survivor Support Fund that she met Auntie Tamika. Giselle eventually moved to Alabama to become a housemate at Grammy’s Place. During her first year here, she became House Manager. She’s responsible for the safety of the house, making sure the garden is maintained, and keeping the house in order. She wears many hats—hostess, chef, facilitator, and even dog walker.  
 

Giselle has recently joined National Survivors Union’s Sex Worker Organizing Call and is already involved in work groups and other projects. They have discovered she is an amazing speaker and have already had her reading poetry protesting the senseless deaths of the drug war. 
 

Giselle believes in sharing her story to show others that there is a way out—as a community, we can and must dream bigger, build ourselves up, and define success on our own terms.