Search form

Search form

Scroll To Top

30 YEARS OF

Out 100 logo

visible & vibrant

30 Years of Looking Back, Looking Forward.
The Out100 designates All That’s In.

1994 cover
cover 1995
cover 2002
cover 2010
cover 2015
Janelle Monae cover
cover 2023
2000
facebook @TransTechSocial; Shutterstock
Trans Tech Social Enterprises Executive Director EC Pizarro III black transgender woman or man working computer office technology
facebook @TransTechSocial; Shutterstock
Voices

Breaking barriers & building empowerment with TransTech

E.C. Pizarro III on his journey that underscores the transformative power of technology and inclusion for queer and trans people of color.

Growing up in Somerset, NJ, I knew I wasn’t like the other children, especially young black children. For a long time, I didn’t see anyone who looked like me and loved computers and technology like I did. As a child, I grew up playing on computers, from using paint to manipulating Microsoft Word in ways that should, honestly, make them call me.

In 2017, I had just moved to South Florida and was looking for my Black, trans & tech-savvy community. An ad came across my Facebook, “TransTech Miami Orientation." At the time, I was working in the tech industry for corporate America and living a stealth/low-disclosure trans experience as one of two Black men in my department. Seeing Angelica Ross and Aryah Lester on the flyer was encouraging and empowering. They were the closest possible model of visible representation I'd ever seen. I instantly signed up.

At the orientation, Angelica Ross spoke about the organization and how she was a self-taught web and graphic designer. She mentioned needing volunteers to assist with the organization's graphics. As luck would have it, I had recently joined Alpha Omega Kappa Fraternity Inc, a fraternity for men of trans experience that required service hours where I would not need to disclose my transgender identity. A few weeks later, she emailed me with an idea: TransTech Summit.

In November of that same year, at the Groupon Headquarters in Chicago, with keynote speaker TS Madison, the first TransTech Summit happened. I assisted with setting up 11 iMacs to give away, presented my first session, managed social media, and supported the overall execution of the summit. That summit was the first time I was ever surrounded by over 50 other LGBTQ+ people interested in tech! Madison spoke about the value of “5 $20's”, if you could figure out how to make that and repeat - then you could sustain yourself financially. Little did I know this keynote would be the foundation for everything that would happen in my life. To say that TransTech Summit changed my life and gave me the affirmation I needed to accomplish any goal would be an understatement.

By 2019, I was laid off from corporate America. I started work as a freelancer and building my design firm when one of my contracts received was for the 1st National Trans Visibility March in Washington. I was still living low-disclosure, and only the lead organizers knew of my trans identity. As the director asked if I had suggestions on a speaker for the march, I instantly thought of my connection with Angelica Ross who, at the time, was working on Pose. When we finally spoke, Angelica’s first question was, “Are you doing better?” I gave her an update on my life, then about the march. She agreed to be the rally speaker as long as I returned to TransTech to help the organization with the summit. I knew what the first summit had done for me and wanted to pay it forward.

Up until 2020, the summit had been an in-person event. After switching to virtual, we were surprised to have people logging in from France, the United Kingdom, Australia, and the U.S. to be part of the summit. That year, we had 13 speaker submissions for the summit and hosted a 2-day virtual experience. That year I presented and volunteered with the production team on marketing. The TransTech Summit was held during Transgender Day of Remembrance to balance the grief and sadness with joy and visibility. It left a positive impact on the industry and our growing membership.

The following year, I accepted the Summit's Interim Executive Director position. As the organization's new leader, I made my first big decision— to move the date of the Summit. I wanted it to coincide with International Trans Day of Visibility. My goal was to move the summit from shadows of sadness and grief to a space of recognition and inspiration!

Additionally, we expanded the programming from our traditional two days to four days and extended the hours. With the addition of set tracks for certain subjects, in 2022 we hosted the 2nd fully virtual TransTech Summit, and I officially became the organization's Executive Director. Across four programming days, over 500 people from around the world attended the TransTech Summit. In 2023, we hosted over 1,000 people worldwide.

As we gear up for this year’s Summit, I'm excited to see how our membership and reach have grown over the past few years. At the first TransTech Summit, our membership was roughly 350. Now, our membership is approximately 6,000 strong, across 50 countries. Our focus is to highlight the expansiveness of employment in the tech industry, across the globe

The 2024 TransTech Summit, presented by JPMorgan Chase & Co., is set to redefine the landscape of workforce development and visibility in technology. From March 28th to March 31st, attendees can go 'Beyond The Code' with our fully immersive virtual experience via the TransTech app. Each day features a distinct theme aimed at empowering, educating, employing, and elevating our community members. The final day, coinciding with Trans Day of Visibility, includes engaging activities, including a pilates session; panel discussions; and a live recording of Angelica Ross's new NOW Podcast.

As an organization, we firmly believe that technology is not confined to coding; instead, we understand that it penetrates every facet of our lives and work. By helping marginalized communities recognize the transferable life skills, we strive to create equitable opportunities for all individuals, regardless of their background or identity.

The TransTech Summit stands apart as the only global, virtual technology conference by and for the QTBIPOC (Queer, Trans, Black, Indigenous, and People of Color) community. But we encourage everyone, regardless of identity, to attend the summit. We want to extend our invitation beyond just our immediate community. We need to include our allies and co-conspirators, now more than ever, who stand with us in the fight for equality and justice for all. Your voices and perspectives are crucial in pushing towards a more equitable future.

E.C. Pizarro III is the creative director of his design and brand management firm, 1Z2R, and the executive director of TransTech Social. Follow him on Instagram at @ec.the.third.

Have an inspiring personal story to tell? Want to share an opinion on an issue? Learn more by visiting out.com/submit.

See All 2024's Most Impactful and Influential LGBTQ+ People
Artists
Disruptors
Educators
Groundbreakers
Innovators
Storytellers
Shutterstock
Resilience amidst the oppression
Shutterstock
Voices

Why I will not flee this tide of transphobia

One therapist reflects on a poignant conversation that ignites a powerful call for resilience, solidarity, and unwavering faith amidst growing oppression and uncertainty.

I am queer. I amtrans. I am an immigrant. I am a survivor.

As a queer and marginalized therapist practicing in the U.S., I am hearing a wide variety of human responses to the unfolding increases in oppression and discrimination orchestrated by the new federal government regime. To promote solidarity and inspire resilience, I've gathered some ideas that I've found helpful in my process.

A seemingly innocuous Sunday luncheon of dainty drinks over bougie donut holes with my trans-chosen siblings inspired this prose. "Holes with the Hoes" comes to mind as I write this. My two closest confidantes begin discussingthe current events and their reactions—the quality of the energy at the table shifts. Tension, urgency, and unease waft through the open-air cafe.

One of them, adopted from a foreign country by American citizens, expresses genuine concern over citizenship. Terror and shock pulse unevenly through my body as the thought flashes, "Oh no, will they be next?" My stoic facade hides the inner tides. They go on, "Did you hear about the trans woman who had her passport and all official documents taken?" I can feel the heat and pressure as the urge to flee clashes with the desire to hide. She looks me square in the eyes, "Gettys, didn't you say months ago you know that there arepeople that want to kill trans people in this country?" The tide of uncertainty lifts me off my feet. Like water piercing through marble, terror cracks right through the hardened center of me.

Growing up in rural Europe and the Deep South of the U.S. as a millennial, there is no doubt that these people exist. I've met them and lived with them. I've sat in church, school, and community gatherings with these people. They look like you and me. I reluctantly find myself nodding. "Well, they're in power, and it's happening now, Gettys," she exclaims in a tone as clear as a tornado siren. The paucity of words in my mind leaves me dangling. My other bestie's words, "Gettys, haven't you heard the saying about the Holocaust? The pessimist left early and survived while the optimists stayed and died."

Those words are the final blow. Something shatters deep within me in a place that's hard to describe and ignore. First, as a trickle, something begins to emerge from the rending. They both go on to recount their recentdiscussions with other queer community members determining their exit strategies to Europe and abroad. The trickle builds into a wave that lengthens my spine with its unstoppable crest. My cognitive mind attempts to reason away from the erupting torrent of sensation and energy to unsuccessfully maintain social norms of polite conversation.

It's been weeks since that conversation. A process within me is underway, which is difficult to explain—maybe even more so. I love these people and can't imagine facing the coming trials without them. I stand today because of them. They are my nurturing roots. The churning within is amplified by sirens, chanting, and marching through the neighborhood all week.I cannot remain silent.

I find the original, albeit macabre, aforementioned aphorism, "In the 30s, the pessimists went to New York, and the optimists went to Auschwitz." The impact is a weight that could pull me through the floor. Persisting, I uncover a couple of more emboldening ideas. One prisoner of war discussing how he coped and survived said, "You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end – which you can never afford to lose – withthe discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be." The inner tsunami starts to take shape as I read his words and consider the difference between optimism, pessimism, and faith.

Faith has a bad rapport with marginalized communities. Trust me, I know. I survived six years of faith-based Christian "reparative therapy" in the Deep South during my sexual peak. Yet, I can't help but maintain faith, not in a god or religion, but in our community (or whatever feels true for you)—faith in our community's resilience, perseverance, and prevailing. I don't know how or when, but we will prevail.

Pain, loss, violence, cruelty, brutality, and hatefulness have always been a part of our communities' experiences. We will lose, we will hurt, we will grieve, but they cannot take our faith that we will prevail. I urge you to light the fire of faith in our resilience inside you. Stoke the flames with me as we gather, close rank, and bind ourselves to each other. Yes, there is terror and horror; let it draw us together to share and deepen our roots as the wind strengthens the trees. They can take our rights and pretend we don't exist; they can break up our families and take our safe places, butthey can't take our hope, our knowing, or our faith.

To those who feel the urge to flee, I understand. I fled the southeast to escape the xenophobia and racism, seeking refuge in Denver. Here, I've found my roots, my people, my community. Running to find a safe shelter away from darkness is a way to keep your light.

However, this is not the way for me. I cannot flee. I am you, and you are me. We are a community whose strength comes from solidarity. With mountains and trees as our witness, we will remain and persist. We will resist and sing our songs of pain and loss together as those who have come before us. Our ancestors lived on and were bound to each other. We will persist and persevere. We will endure and earn our greys to stand as living tributes tothe resilience of our marginalized community and to stand as elders.

Just as the trees do, so shall we.

Trained in transpersonal psychotherapy, Gettys LPCC is a queer somatic therapist serving marginalized communities. They are devoted to exploring the mysteries of the mind-body connection and are passionate about elevating the LGBTQ+ community through mindful awareness.Gettys lives in Denver with their partner and their pets, Oberon and Bodhi. You can learn more about their work here.

Voices is dedicated to featuring a wide range of inspiring personal stories and impactful opinions from the LGBTQ+ community and its allies. Visit out.com/submit to learn more about submission guidelines. We welcome your thoughts and feedback on any of our stories. Email us at voices@equalpride.com. Views expressed in Voices stories are those of the guest writers, columnists and editors, and do not directly represent the views of Out or our parent company, equalpride.

See All 2024's Most Impactful and Influential LGBTQ+ People
Artists
Disruptors
Educators
Groundbreakers
Innovators
Storytellers