Queer History 102 : Marsha P Johson
The Mother of a Movement Who Paid It No Mind A revolutionary queen who wore her flowers like a crown and her heart on her sleeve
Listen up, because I'm about to tell you about a woman who lived so boldly that the whole fucking world had to take notice. Marsha P. Johnson wasn't just present at the birth of the modern queer rights movement – she was its heartbeat. Through violence, poverty, and a world determined to erase her, Marsha didn't just survive; she bloomed like the flowers she wore in her hair. And if you think you know her story because of some simplified brick-throwing myth, you don't know shit yet.
The historical record has often reduced complex figures like Marsha to convenient sound bites. Today, we're digging deeper. This piece aims to honor the messy, beautiful, complicated reality of a woman who refused to shrink herself, even when the world offered her no safe harbor.
A Flower Waiting to Bloom
Born in 1945 to a religious family in New Jersey, Marsha began wearing dresses at just five years old. But the cruelty of the world showed up early – bullying and violence from her peers forced her to hide her true self. Can you imagine being so young and already learning that your authentic expression invites pain? That kind of childhood leaves scars most people couldn't bear.
But the second Marsha graduated high school, she grabbed $15 and a single bag of clothes and bolted to New York City. There, she transformed into Marsha P. Johnson – the P famously standing for "Pay It No Mind." In the concrete jungle of NYC, she finally dressed as she'd always dreamed: colorful, vibrant clothing topped with her signature flower crown. That freedom must have felt like taking a deep breath after being underwater for years.
Survival at the Margins
Like so many trans people then and now, Marsha struggled to find legitimate employment. She turned to sex work to survive – a choice made from necessity, not preference. She faced brutal violence from clients and police alike. She was even shot at one point, yet somehow survived. She experienced homelessness too, a reality that would fuel her activism for the rest of her life.
Think about this shit for a minute – living day to day, never knowing if the next john would be your last, sleeping in parks or under bridges, and still managing to maintain your humanity. That's not just resilience; that's a goddamn superpower.
Finding Family and Purpose
Marsha eventually found work waitressing and doing drag performances, which improved her circumstances. During this time, she met an 11-year-old Sylvia Rivera, a Puerto Rican trans girl who quickly became her best friend. Their bond would shape not just their lives but the entire trajectory of the queer rights movement.
Six years after their meeting, on June 28, 1969, Marsha and Sylvia arrived at the Stonewall Inn around 2 AM. In Marsha's own words: "I was uptown. I didn't get downtown till about 2 o'clock because when I got downtown, the place was already on fire. It was a raid already."
After a lifetime of harassment and cruelty, Marsha and other trans folks had reached their breaking point. Marsha herself said she'd spent 10 years in jail just for wearing makeup on 42nd Street – so fighting back against the cops didn't seem like such a terrible idea anymore. When you've been pushed so far to the edge, turning around and pushing back is the only option left.
A Revolutionary is Born
The days following Stonewall were filled with protests, many organized by Marsha and Sylvia themselves. The very first Gay Pride parade took place in New York in 1970, and Marsha was initially part of the planning committee with the Gay Liberation Front and the Gay Activist Alliance.
But here's where shit gets real – Marsha ended up denouncing their work because it focused primarily on white gay people, leaving out trans people of color. Even in the early days of the movement, the most marginalized were being pushed aside. Marsha wasn't having any of that bullshit.
In response, Marsha and Sylvia founded STAR (Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries) in 1970, "an organization dedicated to sheltering young transgender individuals who were shunned by their families." They created the family they needed when their blood families had failed them.
Rising Star With Continuing Struggles
Throughout the 1970s, Marsha's prominence in the LGBTQ community grew. She performed with the drag group Hot Peaches and was featured in Andy Warhol's print series "Ladies and Gentlemen." Her activism knew no bounds, and in one interview, she declared, "As long as gay people don't have their rights all across America, there is no reason for celebration."
Because of her tireless work, Marsha rode in the lead car of the 1980 Gay Pride parade, proclaiming: "You never completely have your rights. One person, total. You all have your rights."
But the 1970s were also incredibly difficult for Marsha personally. She experienced several mental health crises leading to hospitalization. Despite her growing fame and recognition, she was forced to return to sex work – because advocacy doesn't pay the fucking bills, no matter how necessary or important it is.
The Final Chapter
In 1990, Marsha was diagnosed with HIV. True to form, she turned even this devastating diagnosis into an advocacy opportunity, fighting against the stigma and fear surrounding the disease. With unimaginable courage, she said: "And if I die, I hope nobody cries neither you think. Stand up and dance party. Have a good time."
Marsha was found dead in the Hudson River on July 6, 1992. Police quickly ruled it a suicide, but her friends suspected foul play. This was, after all, the worst year for anti-queer violence on record up to that point. We'll never know for certain what happened that night, but the suspicious circumstances of her death mirror the indifference society had shown to her life.
Hundreds of people showed up to Marsha's funeral, which was held in a church, as she had remained religious throughout her life. So many people came to celebrate this extraordinary woman that they spilled out onto the sidewalk – a testament to the lives she had touched and the community she had helped build.
Practical Tools for Continuing Marsha's Legacy
Prioritize trans women of color in your advocacy, fundraising, and community support
Challenge exclusive spaces within LGBTQ+ communities, remembering Marsha's critique of white-centered activism
Support organizations addressing homelessness among LGBTQ+ youth
Advocate for decriminalization of sex work to protect vulnerable community members
Document our history through oral histories, archiving, and community storytelling
Community Connection
Marsha's work continues today through organizations like the Marsha P. Johnson Institute, which protects and defends the human rights of Black transgender people. But the struggles she faced remain painfully present – violence against trans women of color is at epidemic levels, homelessness disproportionately affects LGBTQ+ youth, and economic opportunities remain limited.
The best way to honor Marsha is to join in community with others continuing her work. Show up for trans rights rallies, donate to bail funds for sex workers, volunteer at shelters serving LGBTQ+ youth, and demand justice when violence occurs.
Conclusion
Marsha P. Johnson has been memorialized in many ways since her death, but as the document states, "the best tribute that you and I can give to Marsha is to continue the work that she began." For the rest of our lives, we must "pay it no mind" and fight like hell for the liberation and protection of trans folks of color in our community.
Marsha didn't just exist in a world that tried to deny her humanity – she thrived, she created, she protected others, and she demanded better. Her life wasn't easy, but it was authentic, and that authenticity changed the world.
So wear your own version of a flower crown. Create family where blood has failed. Dance at funerals. And never, ever stop fighting for those who society has pushed to the margins.
Because that's what the fuck Marsha would do.
More Thistle and Moss Work
References:
Susan Stryker, "Transgender History: The Roots of Today's Revolution," 2017
Leslie Feinberg, "Transgender Warriors: Making History from Joan of Arc to Dennis Rodman," 1996
I always find the early accounts of our struggle for equality and those who led the change powerful and inspiring. I’m sad to see we are still in the fight and have recently lost a lot of ground to a determined opponent (MAGA / GOP) but we will prevail as we always have. I get particularly down though when our detractors use the divide and conquer strategies and some take the bait such as democrats moving more centrist and giving concessions on LGBTQ+ rights and abortion but even worse when divisions fracture the ranks when some LGB members/community give in on the T. Our opponents will never be appeased! After the T they will come for the LGBQ+. I guarantee it. So we must all stand together in solidarity!
I am a white, straight, male, 81 year old, retired Texas (born and raised in Ohio) civil trial attorney.
I live south of Fort Worth in Burleson, Texas.
If I can contribute something on a recurring basis, I would appreciate contact information.
Thank you, the story of Ms. Johnson was very moving.
Michael Tomasic