What The Death and Life of Marsha P. Johnson Teaches Us
CW: Mention of violence against transgender people
It may be difficult to fully celebrate queer identities this year due to coronavirus restrictions, as we experience an unprecedented pride month of postponed parades and canceled events. It is especially important, as members and allies of the LGBTQIA+ community, to educate ourselves on queer history and those who helped get us to where we are today. In short, we must remember trans women of color and their vital place in the queer liberation movement.
One of those activists is Marsha P. Johnson, a black trans woman known for her positive attitude and influence on others. For those who don’t know, Johnson played a major role in the Stonewall uprising and in the Gay Liberation Front. She also co-founded (along with Sylvia Rivera) the Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (STAR) organization, which has supported many vulnerable queer people by helping them to stay off the streets. Even today, black trans women are the group at highest risk of violence and abuse. The Trump administration has revoked protections in the healthcare system for trans people. Within the past week, two black trans women, Riah Milton in Ohio and Dominique “Rem’Mie” Fells in Pennsylvania, were murdered.
The Death and Life of Marsha P. Johnson (2017) begins with the death of Johnson in July 1992, which was ruled as a suicide. This ruling sparks protests against the police for a lack of due diligence in investigating her case. The Netflix documentary follows the sincere doubts of those who knew Johnson and the unfolding evidence that there may have been foul play in the events leading to her death, as well as in the process of justice afterwards. This investigation, led by activist Victoria Cruz with the Anti-Violence Project, is intercut with a retelling of Marsha P. Johnson’s life including the main historical events, her colleagues, and her dedicated work towards gay liberation.
With a whopping 96% approval rating from Rotten Tomatoes, there is a consensus that this Netflix documentary is of a high calibre. The strength of this documentary is largely owed to the use of moving archival footage of prominent LGBTQ activists, along with the new investigative narrative mainly conducted by Cruz. Experiencing the trials and tribulations of Cruz throughout, as she is denied any information and repeatedly dismissed, is infuriating for viewers and we get a sense of how corrupt the US justice system remains in the present day. Like many social justice movements today, the fight seems to last for a very long time, but consistently asks for the same things: justice for Marsha P. Johnson, gay rights, trans rights, and equality.
Unfortunately, the trouble with this documentary runs deep. Reina Gosset, a 36-year-old, black trans woman, called out director David France for allegedly stealing her idea and work. On her Instagram (@tourmaliiine) on Oct. 6, 2017, writer and filmmaker Gosset said the following: “David got inspired to make this film from a grant application video that @sashawortzel & I made and sent to Kalamazoo/Arcus Foundation social justice center while he was visiting. He told the people who worked there -I shit you not- that he should be the one to do this film, got a grant from Sundance/Arcus using my language and research about STAR, got Vimeo to remove my video of Sylvia's critical "y'all better quiet down" speech, ripped off decades of my archival research that I experienced so much violence to get, had his staff call Sasha up at work to get our contacts then hired my and Sasha's *ADVISOR* to our Marsha film Kimberly Reed to be his producer.”
https://www.instagram.com/p/BZ7byULA9KA/?taken-by=reinaxgossett)
An important and possibly ironic point can be seen in the film when Sylvia Rivera is booed and jeered at a Liberation Day Rally in Washington Square Park in 1973. Drag queens like Rivera were banned from the rally because they supposedly made gay activism “look bad.” Rivera explains how it was trans people of color who, before, during, and after the Stonewall riots, put themselves at risk in an effort to better the lives of all LGBTQ people, yet they are now being forgotten and even marginalized within the community. She states that instead, white middle-class gay people are idolized within the community. How meta for Rivera to mention this problem within the community in a documentary in which David France, a white cis gay man, profits off of the ideas of trans women of color and in turn bars them from this success. Much to think about.