The injustice is also unevenly distributed. These deaths do not happen in boardrooms or gated neighborhoods. They happen in public streets, to ordinary people, often in communities already over policed and under protected.

Wealth is not neutral. Being a millionaire means benefiting directly or indirectly from the very systems these movements seek to dismantle. That doesn’t mean rich people can’t contribute, but it does mean they shouldn’t be centered, praised, or treated as

NOW: Crowd continues to grow in Minneapolis at a vigil where a federal agent shot and killed Renee Good this morning.

“SAY HER NAME!”
“RENEE GOOD!”
#ReneeGood #sayhername #protestIce

If people really want to support Black trans women, this is where it starts. Not with performative concern, but with material support for the places that keep us safe. Thrive House doesn’t just offer housing they offer hope in a world that often withholds it from people like me.

Before Thrive House, I was exhausted in every sense of the word. I was navigating life as a Black trans woman in Texas without stable housing, without safety, and without the kind of support that tells you, you matter and you belong here. Every day felt like a test of endurance. Not because I

That kind of care is life changing.

I am still here because someone made room for me to be.

At Thrive House, I wasn’t treated like a problem to be fixed. I was treated like a person worth investing in. Someone with a future. Someone whose life mattered. That belief shown through action, not just words helped me begin to rebuild myself piece by piece.

There are moments in life when survival isn’t about big dreams or long term plans. It’s about getting through the night. About having somewhere safe to sleep. About being seen as a human being when the world has decided you’re disposable. For me, that turning point came through Black Trans

Black Trans Texas Connection stepped in when I needed it most.

Thrive House wasn’t just a roof over my head. It was warmth. It was rest. It was the first time in a long time that I didn’t have to stay alert every second, wondering if I was safe. Having a bed, food, and a secure place to exist gave me something I hadn’t had in a while: the space to

And that makes all the difference.

What made the biggest difference was who the support came from. Being helped by an organization led by and centered on Black trans people changed everything. I didn’t have to explain myself. I didn’t have to shrink who I was. I was understood without having to translate my pain.

Black Trans Texas Connection saved my life not through miracles, but through consistency, dignity, and community. Through showing up. Through refusing to let Black trans people fall through the cracks.

Black Trans Texas Connection Gave Me Shelter and Changed My Life

Even in communities with active support systems, demand often outpaces resources and shelters like Thrive house are stretched thin, especially during times of economic strain and rising housing costs.

Black trans organizations center experiences often marginalized even within broader social justice movements. They respond to needs that mainstream systems frequently overlook: healthcare equity, anti-violence work, housing access, employment support, and community wellness.

I’m sharing this because organizations like this deserve to be seen, supported, and protected. And because there are other Black trans people out there who need to know that spaces like Thrive House exist that safety, care, and community are possible, even in places where it feels hardest to find.

That kind of care is life changing.