Leadership From the Margins
Marsha P. Johnson and the Power of Visibility
Movements are often remembered through their most palatable figures. The ones who look great in a textbook or sound great in a decorative quote.
But the people who make change possible are often the ones institutions are least comfortable claiming.
Marsha P. Johnson was one of those people.
A Black trans woman living in New York City in the late 1960s and 70s, Johnson existed at the intersection of racism, poverty, policing, and public hostility. The systems around her made it clear that people like her were meant to survive quietly—if they survived at all.
She refused that assignment.
Johnson was present during the uprising that became the Stonewall Uprising, a turning point in the modern LGBTQ+ rights movement. But her leadership did not begin or end in a single moment of protest.
It showed up in daily acts of care.
With fellow activist Sylvia Rivera, she co-founded Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (STAR), creating housing and support for homeless queer and trans youth long before mainstream organizations were willing to claim them.
She fed people. She protected people. She made space for those who had nowhere else to go.
Leadership from the margins rarely looks polished. Even when it looks messy, it changes lives.
Visibility Is Protection
I am queer.
Which means I understand, in a personal way, the difference between being tolerated and being seen. Visibility is protection.
When people are pushed outside the frame, harm becomes easier to deny. When people disappear from public view, their rights are easier to dismantle. Visibility interrupts that erasure.
At Lead With Heart, we talk about leadership as commitment. About commitment as leadership.
Johnson was committed to visibility as it was integral to her survival.
Leadership rooted in love does not always come from positions of power. Sometimes it comes from the sidewalk, the shelter, the protest line, the community kitchen.
Sometimes leadership is simply refusing to disappear.
Johnson was dismissed. Mocked. Misunderstood.
People whose lives challenge the status quo often are.
There is a specific cost to people who refuse to make themselves smaller so others can remain comfortable.
If you have ever been told that your identity, your voice, or your advocacy makes people uneasy, you are in good company.
Raquel Willis, TIME Woman of the Year (2025), advocates for Black trans liberation through journalism, organizing, and cultural work.
American actress Laverne Cox uses her platform to expand public understanding of trans lives and dignity.
Imara Jones, founder of TransLash Media, elevates the stories of transgender communities through reporting, storytelling, and public advocacy.
You Are Women’s History
If you lead in a classroom, in a company, in a community, you are shaping the frame. Women’s history is not only what we commemorate. It is who we refuse to erase. Leadership is not about occupying the center. It is about expanding the circle.
Where in your life are you called to make someone more visible?
Where are you tempted to look away from people whose lives make others uncomfortable?
What would it look like to treat visibility itself as an act of love?
Women’s History Month is not for nostalgia. It is for action. And sometimes, that action begins with refusing to disappear.