On a balmy spring day in late April, I joined an enthusiastic congregation at the Full Frame Theater in Durham, North Carolina for the second annual Black Trans Short Film Festival.
We were welcomed with warm smiles, free popcorn, and an open bar. DJ Himbo curated the vibe with nostalgic throwbacks as attendees arrived—some embracing as long-time friends, others meeting for the first time. Many were local, passionate supporters of the night's host, Comfrey Films, but quite a few folks had flown in from all around the country.
I saw people I have long been connected with online, but had never had the opportunity to share space with. I bumped into people I hadn't seen in years or had only spoken to via email and video calls, having had no idea they were based in or around the Durham area. Every Southern queer event is a reminder that the Queer South is a small, small world. We are always closer than we think.
Near the entryway, sunlight wept over an altar, lovingly crafted with photos of departed Black trans kin arranged among trinkets and candles. A handwritten note read, simply, "Give them their flowers."
Attendees obliged, laying blooms at the feet of Marsha P. Johnson, Miss Major Griffin-Gracy, Pauli Murray, Miss Mary Jones, Blake Brockington, Righteous Torrence "TK" Hill, and more. All gone from this realm, some taken from us violently. All deeply beloved.
That evening marked the opening ceremony of the festival, but the weekend truly began with a morning visit to Durham's Pauli Murray Center for History and Social Justice. Pauli Murray (1910–1985) was a civil rights activist, legal scholar and theorist, and an early trans figure raised in Durham. Their influential work around Jane Crow—the confluence of patriarchal and anti-Black customs and laws—laid the groundwork for the ACLU's continued advocacy and contributed to the expansion of legal protections for victims of sex/gender discrimination.
Pauli Murray: Black revolutionary
Black feminist. Legal pioneer. Gender non-conforming. Preacher. Lover of women. What Pauli Murray really did was fight to create the kind of world in which every part of her could live.
Murray publicly and privately grappled with their gender identity, even seeking out surgeries and testosterone for what they suspected might have been "an inverted sex instinct." Born Anna Pauline, they later named themselves Pauli. In a letter to their aunt, they referred to themselves as a "boy-girl." In one journal entry, they wondered if they were simply born as "one of nature's experiments; a girl who should have been a boy."
"Replete with diaries, interviews, self-annotated medical records, personal letters and more—Murray's papers may one day prove to be the U.S.'s largest and most complete reserve of trans historical primary sources."
— Naomi Simmons-Thorne, The Activist History Review
Queer and Trans Studies scholars believe that Murray would most likely identify as a trans man or another masculine-of-center identity if they had access to modern language and understandings of gender.
A group of film festival attendees gathered at the Pauli Murray Center, a national historic site located at Murray's childhood home, for a guided tour that morning, taking in the energy and inspiration left behind by such an important Black trans icon. "To go into the home, not only that they grew up in, but a home that has held both their dreams and their lineage and their physical body is incredible for trans folks to experience," said Ifasina Clear, an artist and healer who served as the Healing Justice Coordinator for the event.
For Clear, the tour served as "a glimpse into the life of a trans person that is not just about their trans identity, but is about who they wanted to be in the world… It's an incredible experience for anybody, but especially a trans person, to literally stand in the energy, memory, and fabric that shaped Pauli Murray." After walking through the home, Clear offered the group support with grounding tools to (re)connect with the self and Earth.
It was the perfect beginning to a powerful weekend of Black trans fellowship, an experience that encapsulated what Joie Lou Shakur feels called to do as Founder and Executive Director of Comfrey Films and the architect of the Black Trans Short Film Festival.
"It is my life purpose, in this time, to make Black trans folks unforgettable. Comfrey Films is one of the ways that I act in that purpose," Shakur said.
Comfrey Films is a Black trans film training program and production studio based in Durham, "designed to launch Black trans, gender non-conforming, and intersex (TGNCI) storytellers into independent filmmaking and to tell stories woven at the intersection of being Black and TGNCI." Since its inception in 2017, the studio has trained over 50 Black TGNCI aspiring filmmakers with programming like the Director in-Residence Program and Production Apprentice Program.
Shakur described the start of Comfrey Films as "very humble beginnings." They made their first film, Mama, Can We Talk?, on a shoestring budget and with almost no experience. Making the film was an attempt to create something for Black families interested in approaching or deepening conversations about gender and transness "in a loving but real way." They rented a van in Asheville, NC, drove across the country to meet family in the Bronx, NY, and invited other Black trans folks to help tell the story of welcoming family into their transness, borrowing (and learning how to use) cameras and other essentials along the way. It was the epitome of a learning experience, and Shakur credits it with sparking their interest in the work they do now through Comfrey Films.
"Really, it was the feedback from the folks I picked up along the way on this road trip who said, 'This was such an empowering moment for me to be able to shape a story,'" Shakur recalled. "At that time, it wasn't a lot of Black trans representation on screen, but it was even less so behind the camera shaping stories."
This scarcity of trans voices and perspectives on both sides of the camera is exactly why the Black Trans Short Film Festival is one of the primary offerings from Comfrey Films. Shakur sees it as a good bridge to connect creators involved in traditional filmmaking with the local, independent film landscape. "Durham is blossoming as a film space," they said, and they are determined to support Black trans creators in making more space for themselves within it.
Shakur simply refuses to let Black trans folks get left behind. In their words, the Black Trans Short Film Festival is for, by, and about "Black trans directors, writers, producers. Folks who are shaping stories in this moment, folks who are going back and grabbing stuff from our past and are also dreaming and imagining the future."
Courtney Sebring, Communications Director at Comfrey Films, believes in film and art as necessary interventions in this political moment. In the midst of emboldened anti-trans rhetoric and legislation, storytelling can be a balm and a declaration of our eternal presence.
"We want more people to understand that investing in Black trans art is also investing Black trans survival. All of our survival," Sebring said.
Sebring remembers the inaugural Black Trans Short Film Festival with fondness. They were still "coming into [their] own," they emphasized, but they still managed to sell out every single seat in the house. For Sebring, that was a "huge affirmation" that came at the "exact right time." It was a vibrant, safe opportunity for networking and collaboration, and a much-needed reminder that we are all a part of the same ecosystem.
"It was a magical space that felt like the future we're fighting for," they said. Being there, experiencing that magic, was impactful, and they have every intention of working to create more opportunities for Black trans folks to convene around films and art. Doing this work, helping to steward gatherings like this film festival, allows them to feel more of themselves. "I am able to be my whole self," Sebring reflected.
I count myself fortunate to have experienced the second annual festival. With supportive sponsorship from TransLash Media, Building Transformative & Joyous Futures, Black Feminist Film School, Scalawag, and more, and a loyal following of eager filmmakers and excited film lovers, the Black Trans Short Film Festival is sure to be around for many years to come.
Before the screening of the night's short films, Joie Lou Shakur asked us to turn to our neighbor—in that distinct, theatrical intonation many Black Southern pastors are known for—and invited us to dedicate our presence at the festival to someone not in the room. My dedication was for a good friend celebrating their birthday a few states away.
The next order of business was honoring the memory of Miss Major Griffin-Gracy (1946–2025) a dedicated activist for queer and trans liberation since the legendary Stonewall Riots. Miss Major worked for over 50 years, advocating for trans women and gender non-conforming folks who survived incarceration, police brutality, and the AIDS crisis. Shakur reminded us of one of her most famous quotes and invited us to take up that energy ourselves:
"I'm free now. I don't need no permission from outside my front door. Fuck that shit. I am free now."
Miss Major Griffin-Gracy
Wazi Maret, artist and Development Director of Comfrey Films, spoke on the importance of honoring Black transcestors, making sure to acknowledge and name Pauli Murray as the "Patron Saint Black Transcestor" of Durham. He reminded us to go into every day grounded in their memory, because it is through them and their audacity that we are made possible.
Maret continued, "Miss Major is near and dear to our hearts, and is another Black transcestor we are holding with us throughout this entire weekend." The late legend attended the first Black Trans Short Film Festival last year, and was met with reverence and love. "We had no idea that [would] be the last time we would sit at her feet," Maret said. "But we know that, even though she is not physically with us, her spirit is here. I can feel her."
Miss Major was born and raised in Chicago, but the South had a special place in her heart. She chose Little Rock, Arkansas as the site of her dream, House of gg. As Maret described it, "It was Miss Major's dream to build an oasis, to build a safe space where Black trans people could rest, could find respite, could heal, and really just be free."
House of gg, also known as The Griffin-Gracy Educational and Historical Center, began in 2017. It has served as a space devoted to the healing and nurturing of Black trans folks. Miss Major wanted the legacy of the center to continue long after her. So, near the end of her life, she named a successor: Tiommi Luckett. In a touching moment, Maret presented Luckett with an award dedicated to Miss Major and the House of gg for leadership, courage, care, and "building Black trans futures."
And with that, the lights turned down in the theater.
We were treated to a collection of works from both beginners and more experienced filmmakers, and I was thoroughly impressed with them all. They ranged in genre and tone: action, comedy, historical fiction, experimental, drama. All were daring and ambitious. There were stories about trans life, culture, and experiences, and stories that just happened to be told by trans folks.
Chestbound
It began with Chestbound (2024), a quiet and thoughtful short written and directed by emerging trans nonbinary filmmaker Janine Anne Uyanga. In this family drama, we follow the headstrong Ray. After their father falls ill, they must figure out a way to move forward through a strained relationship with their mother. From the intimacy of Ray's father and partner supporting them through top surgery recovery, to the cutting exploration of family betrayal, Chestbound feels deeply personal and moving. It's clear to me why it won the festival's 2025 Grand Jury Award. You can stream Chestbound with an Open Television (OTV) membership.
Who Are You? The Forgetful Spy
The next short was a creation from the mind of Brian Michael Smith, the first Black trans man cast as a series regular on network television. Smith wrote, produced, and starred in Who Are You? The Forgetful Spy (2025), a psychological action thriller with a dark comedic bend. A mild-mannered accountant finds himself in a bizarre hostage situation, and it seems to be an unfortunate case of mistaken identity. It won a 2025 Global Film Festival Award with its witty script and entertaining performances.
How Not to Date While Trans
How Not to Date While Trans (2022) is a meta, fourth-wall-breaking dating comedy from writer and director Nyala Moon. The award-winning short is a peek into the realities of dating while trans from the perspective of a trans woman. It's shockingly honest and darkly humorous in its examination of the modern dating world and the strange things (and too-real moments of vulnerability) one might encounter. Moon has been generous enough to post the short film on Instagram, so you can enjoy this delightful bit of creative filmmaking right now. I highly recommend it.
Mary of Ill Fame
The penultimate film of the night was Mary of Ill Fame (2022), a critical fabulation written and directed by Tourmaline, award-winning artist, activist, and author of Marsha: The Joy and Defiance of Marsha P. Johnson (and produced alongside Keanu Reeves). Inspired by Mary Jones—a trans sex worker who was arrested multiple times in the 1830s and 40s—the film imagines Mary as a conjure woman protecting her community.
Text reads: "The Man-Monster, Peter Sewally, alias Mary Jones, &c&c. Sentenced 18th June 1836 to 5 years imprisonment at hard labor at Sing Sing, for Grand Larceny. Published by H.R. Robinson, 48 Cortlandt St. NY"
The story is set in Seneca Village, a thriving Black and Irish immigrant community in New York that was destroyed in 1857 to make way for Central Park. In Tourmaline's imagining, Mary Jones is a clairvoyant conjurer with the ability to alter reality. With Seneca Village under attack by white folks aiming to seize the land, Mary rewrites history with her magic.
At Bienalle Arte 2022, Tourmaline screened Mary of Ill Fame and created an art installation around the film, describing it as "a time travel portal that allows people to slip into this moment of time in New York City in the 1800s when people were dreaming beyond what they were being offered." For Tourmaline, both the film and the installation are about "dreaming beyond the landscape of the 1800s, beyond the conditions of systemic racism…of transphobia, of violence." It's looking at these conditions "and not allowing them to dictate what we dream about."
Femme Queen Chronicles: The Clock
Femme Queen Chronicles: The Clock (2018) is a loud and audacious comedy written and directed by jazz harpist Ahya Simone Taylor. This short film also serves as the first episode of a web series of the same name that follows a messy group of friends as they navigate "love, life, shade, and trade" in Detroit.
Taylor told Pride Source:
"I want this series to be a bit of a reprieve from the inundation of tragic stories about trans people of color… I want to make fun of and subvert dominant narratives about trans women in media in a comedic but in [an] authentic way. It's a tribute to black trans women as multifaceted."
The Clock is free to watch on Vimeo.
After the screening and before more drinks and mingling at the reception, we closed out our time in the theater with a panel discussion on Building Collaborative Media Ecosystems. Joie Lou Shakur and Wazi Maret were joined by Imara Jones, founder and CEO of TransLash Media, and Elijah McKinnon, Co-Founder and Executive Director of OTV.
TransLash and OTV have both been close collaborators of Comfrey Films for several years. TransLash is an independent, non-profit news organization that centers trans stories and lives by sharing "the authentic experiences of trans and gender-nonconforming people through journalism and nonfiction storytelling." Alongside journalistic articles, podcasts, and zines, TransLash also produces independent films, animated shorts, and documentaries.
In the streaming world, OTV has made much-needed space for marginalized independent creators as an Emmy-nominated non-profit streaming platform and media incubator offering dozens of pilots, series, short films, and video art. Since 2019, OTV has also hosted its own independent film competition, Brave Futures, in which filmmakers are challenged to create a short film in 48 hours.
During the conversation, the panelists were asked to offer a few words to aspiring filmmakers, especially those who may feel discouraged by the daunting process.
The accolades of Imara Jones are many, including Emmy, Peabody, and GLAAD awards for her work as a political journalist and activist. She is certainly no stranger to difficulty.
"We often think that the difficulty means there's something wrong," Jones said. "[But] the only way that you're going to create something is through difficulty." As a longtime and unrepentant fan of sci-fi, she couldn't resist quoting Captain James T. Kirk in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982): "We learn by doing."
Elijah McKinnon is an artist and activist whose work "explores themes of space-making, liberation, and resilience." They are currently working on a "psychedelic love letter to Black virtuosity, queer transcendence, and trans sorcery" set in South Africa. "I have been so fortunate to be surrounded by people who really love this medium, and who really love storytelling as a practice for survival. And it has taught me that you don't have to be afraid to be seen," McKinnon said, emphasizing the importance of creating with people who share a love for the work and fostering opportunities for transparency and authenticity.
Independent films, the studios that produce them, and the festivals that exhibit them create accessibility on both sides of the camera. They allow us to engage with stories that may have never been told with sincerity and care if they managed to get past the gatekeepers of Hollywood, where Black trans creators and artists pushed even further to the periphery. In this political climate, organizations like Comfrey Films, TransLash, and OTV have never been more important. We need steadfast comrades making damn sure Black trans folks are on the record, authoring Black trans stories.
Support Comfrey Films and the Black Trans Short Film Festival by following and donating. And if you're planning to attend in the future, come ready to bask in the aliveness and fellowship of a Black trans jubilee. It was an experience I will never forget, and I look forward to being transported again next year.