Arm The Girls

 
 

Crown, stylist’s own. T’boli headdress. Necklaces, Vivienne Westwood and stylist's own. Terno top, Keith LaFuente. Barong Tagalog, Daily Malong. Mula sa Puso contemporary Maguindanao Inaul, Meranao Landap malong, T’boli malongs, provided by Daily Malong and Titania Buchholdt. Bag, Telfar. Kalinga hair ties (worn as rings) and belt, Daily Malong. Bracelets and garters, Carlito Amalia (c/o Arkipelago Books). Shoes, Azalea Wang. Photography Guerrilla Davis. Styling Eric James Soto.

 
 

Part of We Are The Ones’s series of shoots for Arm The Girls, a mutual aid initiative building power and safety with BIPOC queer and trans femmes + a conversation with Guerrilla Davis and Pearl Teese on their experiences as Afro-Filipinos navigating anti-Blackness, gender- and sex-based hate in our communities

This story originally appeared in Hella Pinay Issue 01: Resilience - Spring/Summer 2021. Order a digital copy here.


Bay Area Queer baddies Pearl Teese (she/her), Guerilla Davis (he/him), and kali diwa (they/themme) talk about queer collective We Are The One We’ve Been Waiting For’s project, Arm The Girls, of which Guerrilla is a co-founder. Arm The Girls (ATG) is “a Bay Area mutual aid initiatiative putting power and safety directly into the hands of Black and Indigenous queer and trans femmes of color.” Designed with BIPOC trans women in mind - beyond just their physical safety - this community-led initiative provides “emergency funding, holistic health and wellness resources, paid self-defense classes, and self-defense kits in a designer bag,” showcasing just how powerful “for us, by us” organizing and support can be. 

This project sees trans women as more than just numbers in an oppressive system that refuses to recognize them as important. Arm The Girls empowers trans women by holding all their intersections, having conversations with them about their actual needs, and figuring out realistic ways to provide comprehensive care, supplies, and resources via community aid - flipping the switch on how resources are provided in traditional nonprofit spaces. Essentially, We Are The Ones are encouraging a new culture of safety and care that genuinely says, “Hey, we got you.”

kali diwa: Let’s talk about the Arm The Girls x Hella Pinay shoot, featuring trans queen/Blasian babe, Pearl Teese!

Guerrilla Davis: Initially it was just an interview about the ATG project with a photoshoot, but it’s deeper than just giving tasers to trans women. So I was like, “Let's actually interview Pinay trans women about being Pinay and trans.”

It’s a perspective that you don't hear as often and we wanted to put that forward. So finding Pearl was perfect because I was like, omg, a Blasian trans Pinay person! Especially now with #BlackLivesMatter and #StopAsianHate, anti-Blackness in the Asian community is popping up all over social media.

Being a Black and Asian person is such a heavy weight to carry, and this perspective is always being overlooked. We deserve to be heard and witnessed on a greater level, not only to provide catharsis and healing for us involved, but for other people with similar experiences as well.

 
 

Panay Bukidnon choker, HALIYA. Yakan beaded necklace and pili shell necklace, Daily Malong. Terno top and pants, Keith LaFuente. Bag, Telfar. Malong provided by Titania Buchholdt. Accessories, Carlito Amalia (c/o Arkipelago Books). Shoes, Azalea Wang.

 

KD: This is a beautiful collective project. It honestly made me cry, being able to see us live so authentically in the diaspora like this, molding what it means to be Filipino for ourselves. 

Filipino-ness feels complicated because of American colonization, where most of our cultural anti-Blackness stems from. Multiraciality is already so hard, so being Blasian in a culture that can be very anti-Black must be complex. Can y’all speak to these experiences of holding both cultures? 

GD: Growing up with my Filipino side, I always felt outcasted because I'm half Black. So even though I culturally identified with being Filipino more, I never felt fully accepted and always felt like an outsider. My mom was also in a religious cult, kicking me out at fifteen for being gay and pursing art. So I ended up living with my dad. But after experiencing anti-Blackness from my Filipino side, I was then being exoticized on my Black side for looking different too. It’s weird to be shunned and then switch to having all eyes on me. It was just uncomfortable.

KD: To have your family deny a part of you on one side and then be tokenized on the other side. It sounds confusing to hold as one person.

GD: It was definitely tokenization. And there were instances where I was homeless because it was all too much. But that's where I found my family. I got my chosen family and that was really important to me. 

 
“Being a Black and Asian person is such a heavy weight to carry, and this perspective is always being overlooked. We deserve to be heard and witnessed on a greater level, not only to provide catharsis and healing for us involved, but for other people with similar experiences as well.”
— Guerrilla Davis
 

KD: How has this experience been for you, Pearl? 

Pearl Teese: I've never felt so culturally embraced like I did during this project. 

I've been around plenty of other Filipino families and Black people, but I've never felt enough for either. I've always been on the outside looking in, longing for that feeling that I assumed other people experienced when with people of the same culture. I just never experienced that. 

During this event, I finally knew what that felt like. There were Filipinos that spoke the language, understood it, and there were Filipinos who didn't, you know? And we got to create art together that centered us. I just felt fully embraced by that and it was really special. 

I never thought that I would experience this. Outside of ATG, I probably would have continued thinking that people with these intersectionalities couldn’t completely fit in within these “full-blooded” cultures or whatever, even though we are a product of love from both. But I felt like I found belonging in this space. We really did that.

KD: Queerness feels like forging our own path, always. And it’s beautiful that you got your own identity and culture mirrored back to you in a way that felt validating. 

PT:  I’ve worked with many other trans Filipino women. And while they're very sweet, loving, and sisterly to me, I still never got that. I still never felt the bond that they had with each other because I’m Black.

KD: Yeah, finding chosen family is not about finding people who look like you or talk like you. It's finding people who see you and you see them. 

PT: Exactly, people you feel at home with. 

KD: Yes! Building family is also building community. 

We Are The Ones has always been a community-led, community-driven project, so let’s talk about how community plays into everything. 

 
 

Guerrilla Davis and Pearl Teese behind-the-scenes of our ATG x HP cover shoot

 

GD: We Are The Ones has always been a mutual aid initiative, putting art and music together to raise money for people who need it. Our focus is prioritizing Black, Indigenous queer, trans people of color, who are the voices that keep being left out. 

During a protest, a trans femme sister of mine took the mic to criticize the movement for not being intersectional, saying: “All you Black men are just up here yelling for a seat at the table. You don't actually care about justice for all Black people because Black trans women are killed at a higher rate than anyone else. So if you're not fighting for us, then all you want is privilege. You don't care about me!” Reading them to filth. Then at the end of it, all these men surrounded her, misgendered her, and spit on her. Luckily, she held her own and she had people with her, but it was very, very violent and very scary.

The movement isn’t intersectional. People keep forgetting about femmes and women. The day before our shoot, Natalia Smut, someone [Pearl] knew was murdered. Today, I found out that House of Balenciaga’s mother was murdered in Boston; she lived with someone I know. These aren’t random people, these people are people we know, people who are our chosen family. 

We're tired of always seeing violence and murder as the common narrative for Black and Indigenous trans women. So we need to change it.

PT: This year alone 16 or 17 trans women have been killed and it’s barely May.

GP: Everyone always says “Protect our [trans] girls, protect our [trans] girls,” but that is clearly not working. So it’s time to arm our girls. They deserve safety. 

KD: It’s a continuing pattern. We consistently see that the murder rate of trans women keeps growing and nothing is changing.

GD: I'm a Black Queer Asian person. This violence is such a common theme in my life from all my intersections. So that's kind of how this project just came out, you know?

KD: Absolutely. Your art is always constantly kind of trying to subvert violence, right? 

GD: Yeah. It’s about queer people taking back our narrative from oppressive systems.

Armed White people is normal in the media, but rarely viewed as scary. We know it’s violent, so why is it okay?

 
“We’re tired of always seeing violence and murder as the common narrative for Black and Indigenous trans women. So we need to change it.”
— Guerrilla Davis
 

PT: Media says Black men with guns are not only violent, but dangerous. Rarely are their roles soft or innocent which perpetuates this idea that Black men cannot be anything but dangerous. That tells society they must be feared.

KD:  When we see these images of violence, we should ask ourselves, “What are we seeing? What are we not seeing? What is the unspoken narrative here?”

White cops with guns, Black men with guns, we know that’s violent but acceptable. But the moment a trans woman has a gun, it’s a threat, and fear comes into play in a completely different way because then it’s threatening to the people in power. 

GD: We need to change the narrative and get people thinking about things in a way that isn't what is normally fed to us.

We can build solidarity and community through art. Mutual aid is very important, getting money, getting tasers and stuff, too, but starting the conversation to challenge the way people think is also a way that change can happen.

KD: Absolutely. As a queer Pinay femme, seeing Pearl in traditional/indigenous Filipino garb holding these weapons doesn’t feel dangerous to me, it feels powerful.

When the public sees Black people with guns, there is a connotation, but with Pearl in this shoot, she looks like an ethereal deity, like a warrior. 

It’s perfectly fine to see savage Filipinos with primitive sticks and spears as weapons, but the minute you switch it out for a gun, it's a problem. It's read as a dangerous threat.

GD: BIPOC trans women are most vulnerable to violence. Of course, we want to be able to figure a way to protect them and arm them with self-protection.

And so if you see this image and you get heated, it really is like, “Why you mad?”

That’s where the conversation needs to start. The people who are afraid of these images are scared because they've done something to trans women to be afraid of retaliation.

 
 

Terno top, Keith LaFuente. Brass cuff bangles, Style Isle PH. Tausug sawal pants, Daily Malong. Necklaces, Daily Malong and stylist’s own.

 

PT: For so many queer folk, particularly trans women, survival is always at the forefront. 

We're still just trying to grasp for survival. And if we're still just trying to survive, there's not much room to go past that. We want to thrive, move away from scarcity and into abundance. 

GD: Trans women are fighting to survive. We need to be real about it because, bitch, people are dying.

And I would love to see a nonprofit support this message, but they won’t because their funding comes with strings. This is why mutual aid is hella important. 

We Are The Ones gives out money, tasers, and pepper spray to people for free.

We're not taking anyone’s information down because we don’t use or exploit that data like nonprofits do. This work isn't grant funded, this work is community funded.

Caseworkers working with Black trans people ask me, “Hey, I have a youth who was assaulted on BART. They need a self defense kit, but I can't give it to them because of liability, can I introduce you to them?” 

Or “I have this client who needs financial help. Can I send them to you for mutual aid funding?”  

It’s shitty that frontline people, who are supposed to be helping people, can’t because they are limited in the resources they can provide.   

If you need a taser to feel safe, I will give you a taser. That’s direct aid and support. 

That’s why we will never become a nonprofit, because if we did, we would never be able to reach the people that we're doing this for. 

 
Safety is a privilege, one that many trans women do not have. I have to constantly think about my safety. True safety comes from being able to trust in the community you live in and right now trans women don’t have that, so self defense is our best bet. Educating our girls on how to properly use weapons for self defense is powerful. This way we can see more of us start to thrive.
— Pearl Teese
 

KD: You're talking about accessibility and political correctness, which are just words made for White people to understand the trauma that they have inflicted on us. 

These nonprofits want to use these terms to support the idea that they’re changing the world, but, in reality, are only doing the bare minimum, just enough to seem like they're helping. Essentially, nonprofits only keep people from dying, instead of supporting people’s ability to live whole and full lives.

Nonprofits are the gatekeepers of resources, providing just enough services to pretend like they're saving lives. They're not going to risk or alter their own comfort for the community because at the end of the day, they're attached to the funding and not the people.

That’s why direct services always provide better, more effective results.

And that's what We Are The Ones is doing, right? It’s disrupting that system.

Y’all work outside of these limitations by saying, “Let me just do what needs to be done.” And it's dope. That's what mutual aid needs to be - it needs to be nonhierarchical. Mutual aid says, “If this is what you need, I will give it to you, and I will trust that you will use it how you need to use it.” 

Mutual aid takes trust and accountability.

Right now, we don’t practice trust as a society. That’s why nonprofits gatekeep. They do not trust the people.

GD: In nonprofit, the money comes from White people. Foundation grants are controlled by the federal government, which is controlled by White people, meaning your money has to be accountable to the people who gave it to you. 

And for a mutual aid project, we are accountable to the people who gave the money to us, our own community. We use the money for what it was intended for.

Mutual aid has always been a principle more than just fundraising. Black and brown communities have been practicing mutual aid as a cultural norm for centuries; it’s just sharing. 

It’s collective living rather than individualistic living. America is very ego-centered and individual. That’s White culture.

PT: From #BlackLivesMatter to #StopAsianHate, it all comes down to White supremacy. We need to end White supremacy. 

 
 
 
 

GD: Any problem you have as a non-White person, guaranteed, the root cause is White supremacy. White supremacy is the root.

PT:  Yes. I took all the things I was being othered about in the face of White supremacy and championed them for myself, but it took me forever. I learned my power in that process. Because at the end of the day, people are mad that they do not live as freely and as authentically as I do. 

GD: Before White supremacy, our ancestors revered queerness as powerful. In Africa, queer and trans people were intrinsic parts of the community, many as spiritual leaders. They had  masc and butch women leading armies. Queerness before colonization was all around the world, like two-spirit people and babaylans. These people held the culture of the community, and when colonization happened, White people attacked queer and trans folks first, even before attacking chiefs. That’s still happening. BIPOC trans people are still dying first.

PT: White people demonized us everywhere and continue to do so today. I studied LGBT studies and that is exactly how trans people ended up in sex work and other jobs vulnerable to danger because we were immediately demonized as soon as the colonization hit.

KD: Striking the cultural hubs of a society, which are the most spiritual and magical because they encapsulate the entirety of the spectrum, is an act of violence to control a population. Colonizers tried to eradicate the parts of our culture that made us unique and special. 

And that magic is evident in contemporary queerness. In a room full of all dope, Black and brown, queer and trans folks, the energy just hits different. There is this beautiful, unreplicable space of embodiment in the air and it’s electric.

It truthfully speaks more to the destructiveness within White shame that transforms into White violence. Maybe, instinctually, our colonizers saw that and felt the need to eradicate it, out of fear, jealousy, and resentment.

Ultimately, it speaks to the resiliency of queerness, that we're still here and we're still magical. 

 
You know, people always say that history repeats itself. I would love to be here for when history repeats itself and trans women see ourselves as spiritual healers, as medicine workers, as celebrated parts of the community again. That is the world I want to live in.
— Pearl Teese
 

PT: White supremacist thinking is not only, “How can we harm them?” but also “How can we damage their futures?” And in opposition to that, we have to continue thinking, “How are we going to better our future for the people like us in our community and for generations to come?”

KD: Yes, and it’s a collective thing! It calls on the queer community to be like, “Let's save our fucking girls!  Let's save our fucking girls!” And simultaneously figure out a way to build sustainability so that we can have trans women elders.  

PT: Yes! That’s why this project is so important. Again, we’re talking about how to protect ourselves as trans women and that if means putting guns in our own hands and learning how to use it, then we need to do that. People who pretend to fear trans women enact violence on us every day. If you are visibly trans, it's scary to leave your house. 

These dangerous White men are allowed to arm themselves, so why can’t we? 

Safety is a privilege, one that many trans women do not have. I have to constantly think about my safety. White people have all the resources to keep themselves safe. Carrying a gun is not going to make me feel completely safe, but it is much better than not having one because the threats of violence surrounding me are very real. True safety comes from being able to trust in the environment you live in and right now trans women don’t have that, so self defense is our best bet. Educating our girls on how to properly use weapons for self defense is powerful. This way we can see more of us start to thrive. 

It's healing knowing that this is going to be a message that many people are going to take seriously. I always say, “You need to be your own hero.” And this message will show other trans women like myself that we can protect ourselves the best way we can, with community support. This is how we build toward collective liberation and a world where trans women live openly and freely. 

You know, people always say that history repeats itself. And I would love to be here for when history repeats itself and trans women see ourselves as spiritual healers, as medicine workers, as celebrated parts of the community again. That’s the world I want to live in. 🌴


From styling and space, time and energy, every aspect of this production was donated, borrowed, or offered, and 100% powered by our community's belief in this project: that our lives will always matter, and that together love will always win. Special thank you to Pro Arts Commons (studio space), Serena Demividas and Golda (for accessories), Erina Calejo (BTS video) Daily Malong, Kieth LaFuente, Titania Buchholdt, and everyone who helped our team make this dream a reality. Huge shout out to Telfar for donating bags for our self defense kits, and the hundreds of people who have donated to #ARMTHEGIRLS and help us keep our girls armed with power and safety. XOXO

Produced by We Are The Ones for Hella Pinay

Text kali diwa Photography Guerrilla Davis Styling Eric James Soto Beauty Jessica Buera Assist Jarred Joseph Sago & Kaleo Wilson

 

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