Radical Love - A digital exhibition

My name is Syrus Marcus Ware and I am a Black Trans artist. I measure public safety by trying to make sure that I am making the world safer for those that are most marginalized, necessarily, as a result, making the world safer for everyone. It is so rare for Black and Indigenous Trans folks to see themselves reflected in public space. We are never expected or imagined in city planning, despite the incredible contributions that Black and Afro-Indigenous, Trans and non-binary people have given to the city.

Radical Love as a project interrupts this history of erasure and centers the experiences of Black and Afro-Indigenous, Trans and non-binary folks at its core. What would our cities need to look like for these lives to be considered inherently valuable? Radical Love centres around telling these stories and remembering our presence in the city. I spoke with Ravyn, Monica, and Chrys about their experience in public space and their experiences in the city. I also asked them about their ideal world - if they could imagine a future wherein we had survived, where Trans people got to live to be elders, where Black people's lives mattered - where we were all free. What would their experience of the city be like? What would this ideal city be? What follows in these messages is their reflections on the experiences of Black and Afro-Indigenous Trans folks in public space, and their dreamings and imaginings of what might be possible if we dared to imagine a different kind of city planned for all of us. Radical Love is about activism. Radical Love is about love. It is about making this city safer for all of us. It’s about celebrating these lives, this labour, this activism, this joy. I want to thank Ravyn, Monica, and Chrys for sharing their stories.

Ravyn Wngz, Monica Forrester, & Chrys

Ravyn: There are two major constant feelings that come up for me as a Black Trans woman in public space. There is one of exhilaration, excitement, and freedom of living in my truth - walking in it and moving through the world in the way that I have designed. And then there’s another feeling of excruciating pain. Witnessing and experiencing the public scrutiny...the constant threat of violence around every corner. There isn’t a day that I leave my home that I don’t think about...my safety. There isn’t a time that I am not conscious of the environment that I’m in. I plan what I’m going to wear and how to change what I wear depending on where I am. So, to be Black and Trans in public is to be both visible and invisible at the same time.

Monica: The first word that comes to mind or — I think it’s more a feeling than a word necessarily — but I guess, discomfort. Just like the strongest discomfort. And maybe even fear. It’s…I can’t really put anything coherent together. But when I think of Trans folks in public spaces…just discomfort. You know you don’t know what you’re going to come across. You don’t know if you’re going to come across the one person, the few people, the groups of people actually. Just a lot of discomfort. And also the whole feeling of being hyper visible and invisible at the same time. Just all the time. Yeah…Yeah I don’t know.

Chrys: Well first of all I feel that a lot of Trans people – Black Trans folk in public spaces are often ignored, dismissed, silenced, and not respected. Most often we’re not asked to engage in conversation or to give opinions. And most often we’re always looked at - from my own experience — the aggressor, someone that’s too outspoken. These are some of the common things that I’ve experienced in many spaces. My reports have never been validated. That’s what I’ve experienced in those spaces. But also on the other side, Black people — Black Trans folks — have really brought vibrancy to spaces. They’ve educated people, supported people, are overly friendly, and they’re positive. So unfortunately, you know, people don’t see us as important enough to share what we have that would bring better, enjoyable moments to a space. But also I just feel like in more Black focused groups or people of color groups I see that the embrace of culture and community, empowerment and resilience and happiness. We share our experiences together, we power each other, we educate each other, we support each other and acknowledge each other.

 

Ravyn: Growing up I used to dream of a place that I would receive a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The city that I dreamed of called abundance. And in this city, every single person, identity, and human would be welcomed and treated with celebration of their experiences, of their personality, of their identities. That’s the city that I dream of. A city that is welcoming. A city that is full of possibilities. Afro-futurism, Indigenous-futurism, woven traditions, [illegible], connection...it’s what I know Tkaranto used to be. And what I hope it returns to.

Monica: Again, less so words and more so feeling and an image was when...that moment when I’m out and I look around me. It’s late, in a community space. The music is so loud I can feel like my whole body vibrating to the beat. And I look around me and I see my Black family, my Black queer Trans family living their best life, getting their best life. That’s what I picture. That’s what I pictured as being the root of what we do. The root of what we build from. So rather than building a world rooted in fear, it’s rooted in love. Where I think of my people being free. I think of my people dancing, actually. Like the movement. That being, you know, the energy that comes from the movement of my community being what energizes the world that we create. Like a freedom to be...and honesty and care - rather than fear. Really embodying what nothing and no one being disposable means, you know?

Chrys: In my ideal city of Black Trans folks...being a part of different events that are happening in our city, leading platforms or community agencies, being at the forefront — well they are at the forefront — of change. Ideally, for them to be the face of many different new innovations within our city. To show our vibrancy and who we are and how unique we are. I’d like to see more Black Trans folks in more powerful positions in our city. Counsellors or MPS or City-Councillors or in places where they can shine and bring upon empowerment to many folks within the city. And I just feel that Trans folks have a lot to offer — Black Trans folk have a lot to offer within who they are, their identity, their uniqueness. In a new world, Black Trans folks can make our city a better place in a lot of different ways.

Syrus Marcus Ware

Syrus Marcus Ware is an Assistant Professor at the School of the Arts, McMaster University. He is a Vanier scholar, visual artist, activist, curator and educator. Syrus uses painting, installation and performance to explore social justice frameworks and black activist culture, and he’s shown widely in galleries and festivals across Canada. He is a core-team member of Black Lives Matter – Toronto, co-founder of Black Lives Matter - Canada, a part of the Performance Disability Art Collective, and an ABD PhD candidate at York University in the Faculty of Environmental Studies. His ongoing curatorial work includes That’s So Gay (Gladstone Hotel, 2016-2019) and BlacknessYes!/Blockorama. He is the co-editor of the best-selling Until We Are Free: Reflections on Black Lives Matter in Canada (URP, 2020).

https://syrusmarcusware.com/
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