Miss Major Griffin-Gracy, a legendary transgender activist and Stonewall veteran, died Monday night at the age of 78, at home with loved ones. Known as “Mama” to many, she was a parent in multiple ways.
The Arkansas-based House of gg – Griffin-Gracy Educational Retreat and Historical Center, which she founded and led, said in a statement, “Her enduring legacy is a testament to her resilience, activism, and dedication to creating safe spaces for Black trans communities and all trans people…. “She affirmed that our lives hold meaning and that we stand on the shoulders of giants like her, whose courageous love and relentless fight assured our right to live with dignity.”
Miss Major had innumerable accomplishments over the more than 50 years that she fought for the LGBTQ community, particularly for Black trans women, and many other outlets are covering those; I am going to focus here on her role as a parent in a family formed, found, and chosen.
The center notes that she is survived by “her longtime partner, Beck Witt; three sons Asaiah, Christopher, and Jonathon; her many daughters including Janetta Johnson—successor of the Miss Major Alexander L. Lee TGIJP Black Trans Cultural Center; her sisters Tracie O’Brien and Billie Cooper; keeper of spare parts, Thom Jeffress; countless members of community who have been shaped by her mentorship and legacy as a leader; and a whole host of family and friends.”
Miss Major and Witt had Asaiah in 2021. Christopher was born to Miss Major and a previous long-term girlfriend in 1978, a 2017 interview with SF Weekly related. When they broke up, Miss Major retained custody, “something she says she will be forever grateful for,” she told the publication. She explained, “I’m always his dad, whether I’m in a push-up bra, blond hair, red hair, three-inch heels, flats, whatever. I’m always his dad. It’s been marvelous knowing that he’s breathing on the earth somewhere, this little piece of me.”
She adopted other sons as well, including three other “runaway boys around Christopher’s age who she took in and raised,” the article said. While the boys only ever knew her as femme-presenting, she noted, two called her mom and two called her dad. “That’s on them. Whatever—just call me,” she said. (The way we queer folks use parental titles is varied and glorious.)
Johnson came into Miss Major’s life in 1997 when Johnson, another Black trans woman, was in her 30s, just out of having been held in a men’s prison on a prostitution charge. Johnson was seeking to enter a drug and alcohol treatment program, but they would only take her if she denied her gender and went as a man, explained SF Weekly. Someone suggested she speak with Miss Major. She did, and since then, Johnson said, “She’s been my mother. I’m her daughter. She has taken care of me. She’s taught me how to be strong.”
The children named in her obituary and the SF Weekly article, however, are only a few of those whose lives she directly impacted. In a 2013 speech at the naming of the Miss Major-Jay Toole Building for Social Justice in New York City, Witt noted there have been “countless children” whom she adopted, fostered, and raised because their parents were “affected by prison, domestic violence, or drug use.”
And National LGBTQ Task Force President Kierra Johnson said on her passing, “Mama Major and I chose each other as family. She was a mentor, a sacred inspiration, a strong, brilliant and resilient Black woman who kept it real and loved on me deeply.”
It is no wonder that she was “Mama” to many and that the House of gg calls her “Our Beloved Matriarch and Trans Liberation Movement Mother.”
My deepest condolences to her family, friends, and all who have been touched by her vision, strength, and love.
To learn more about her work and see how you can support her legacy, visit the House of gg website.