Campaign for us

To work in an organised and active way towards a particular goal — typically a political or social one.

The effects of social, political and media stigmatisation are not abstract. They show up in mental health crises, healthcare avoidance, workplace harassment, family breakdown, housing insecurity, and violence:

• Social. Family rejection, friendship loss, exclusion from community spaces, daily microaggressions, the cumulative weight of being told you are a problem.
• Political. Legislation that strips legal protections, public officials using hostile rhetoric, a Supreme Court ruling that excludes trans women from the legal definition of “woman.”
• Media. Coverage that treats human rights as “debate,” that platforms harmful voices in the name of balance, that mostly shows Black trans people only as victims of violence or as cultural controversy.

Campaigning — even at a small scale — pushes back on every one of these. Your MP letter, your social post, your conversation at work, your protest sign — they are how a stigmatised community becomes a heard one.

of UK women support trans people's right to self-identify.

YouGov for PinkNews

The majority is with us. Loud minorities can dominate the conversation when the rest of us stay quiet. Campaigning is how the majority shows up.

MPs notice when their constituents write. A personal email or letter from someone in their constituency carries more weight than a thousand tweets. You don't need to be an expert — you just need to tell them what matters to you and why.

Three things to say:

1. You are their constituent (give your postcode).
2. You are concerned about the rollback of trans rights and the impact on Black trans and non-binary people in the UK.
3. You expect them to publicly support trans-inclusive policy and to vote accordingly.

UK Parliament petitions that reach 10,000 signatures get a government response. At 100,000 they are considered for Parliamentary debate. Search for live petitions on trans rights, sign the ones you support, share them with your network.

Protests, vigils, marches, council meetings, town halls. Physical presence still matters — for the people you stand alongside, for the cameras, and for the politicians who count the crowd. Bring a friend. Bring a sign. Bring water.

With family, with friends, at work, in the WhatsApp group. When you hear anti-trans rhetoric, say something. You don't need a perfect comeback — just “That's not okay” or “I disagree” is enough. Silence reads as agreement.

Share Black trans voices and stories. Push back on misinformation when you see it — calmly, factually, briefly. Follow trans creators, journalists, and organisations. Quote-tweet sparingly; amplification matters more than argument.

Campaigns cost money. Helplines cost money. Trained peer supporters cost money. Even a regular small donation funds the infrastructure that makes the rest of this list possible.

The destiny of the Black trans community ultimately intersects with all of ours. We all have a role to play in making that world real.

Need help getting started?

Tell us what you'd like to do, and we'll point you towards the resources, templates, or upcoming actions that fit.

Write to your local MP. A short email explaining how the issue affects you or your community is enough. If you'd rather speak in person, every MP holds regular advice surgeries you can book into.

• Use your postcode to find them.
• Say you are a constituent. Give your postcode.
• Keep it short. Personal stories land harder than statistics.

Bills are scrutinised and amended in detail in the Lords. You can contact peers directly — especially those active on equality, human rights, or trans-related issues.

• Look up peers by name, party, or area of interest.
• You don't need to be a constituent to write to a peer.
• Address them by their title (e.g. “Dear Lord Smith”).