For Dr. Christy Perez, launching a journalism career from prison felt like reporting from a war zone. Sharing stories of brutal conditions through a contraband cell phone, the trans Afro-Latina writer knew that every word she published and every source she spoke to put her life at risk.I always was aware of just how much danger I was putting myself into, she told LGBTQ Nation. I was writing blatantly about wardens and about commissioners and about corruption and about staff selling sex to prisoners. And I was writing about these things knowing that if it came out, I could face very real physical consequences, too. Related We must never stop fighting for incarcerated trans folks Incarcerated trans folks are subjected to the same political and systemic cruelty as the rest of us. Their stories need to be heard. She recalled writing about the prison black market and said a gang member could have easily gotten angry. Prison hit men are a very real thing, she said. I was aware I was risking more than just a shakedown or some time in the administrative lockdown unit.With the use of the forbidden phone, she also risked being charged with a felony and forced to serve more time or pay a hefty fine. Never Miss a Beat Subscribe to our newsletter to stay ahead of the latest LGBTQ+ political news and insights. Subscribe to our Newsletter today But for Perez, it was all worth the risk.These stories need to be told, she emphasized. During her 13 years in a mens ward at the Georgia Department of Corrections (GDC), the transgender journalist and activist witnessed scores of human rights violations and was even forced to represent herself in a lawsuit to obtain the hormone care she needed.The organizations she reached out to wouldnt take her case, so she went to the prison law library and taught herself to write briefs. When she won, she realized she was her own best advocate, and that maybe she could be a voice for others, too.So she started writing.Using the cell phone, she shared stories of prison life with Filter Magazine, doing her best to amplify the voices of other trans inmates.I realized I was really good at it, she said, crediting her editor, Kastalia Medrano, for helping her learn the ropes.Not a lot of editors will do what she did. She developed a friendship with me and coached me, taught me what a nut graf is, what a lede is, and how to do research. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Solutions Not Punishment Co. (@snap4freedom)Under Medranos guidance, Perez wrote about the lack of harm reduction initiatives amid a prison drug war, an epidemic of unhoused prisoners sleeping outside due to an understaffing crisis, and prison leaderships crusade against transparency.It took Perez a few years to gain the confidence to expand her horizons. I was scared to go anywhere else. I was like, nobodys gonna want me because Im not a real journalist.But Medrano believed in Perez, pushing her to send out pitches and assuring her that rejections happen whether you go to journalism school or not.In the beginning, just as now, I saw journalism as an extension of my advocacy and a vehicle to empower myself and to empower the people whose stories I want to share, she said.Her courage paid off. She began writing for a slew of other publications, including The Appeal, Modern Farmer, Shadowproof, and LGBTQ Nation.As her career grew, hundreds of incarcerated sources began contributing to her pieces, all of which were published under the pseudonym C. Dreams to protect herself. By the time she was released, though, she had spoken with so many people (and had even appeared on a few podcasts) that the person behind C. Dreams had become an open secret. I think I got out of prison just in time, she said, recalling a moment when a deputy warden made a comment to her implying he knew what she was up to.She wasnt surprised word got out, considering during her final year incarcerated, she had started to become quite well known in the outside world. Once she started making more podcast appearances (audio only, never showing her face), her social media accounts exploded in popularity. She admitted she got a little less careful by the end, too. I just saw that I was doing something right and it was getting attention, and it was making people talk about things.Amidst all of this, Perez earned multiple advanced degrees in history and theology and also engaged in abolitionist organizing. As an inmate chaplain, she ran a pagan religious service, the time of which shed use to teach listeners about the role of religion in creating the modern prison state.Since her release in 2023, Perez has continued her journalistic and advocacy careers. When I got out of prison, I hit the ground running, Perez said. And she meant it.She co-founded Poder Unides, an organization focused on empowering Trans people in Atlanta. Through the organization, she worked with queer Georgia state Rep. Park Cannon (D) to develop the Georgia Peaches Leadership and Advocacy Program for LGBTQ+ people.Her work at Poder Unides includes providing clothing for work and job interviews, offering hot meals and hot showers, trans healthcare initiatives, HIV prevention assistance, and political education, all with a particular focus on helping LGBTQ+ immigrants.She also works as a leadership development coach for the Solutions Not Punishment Collaborative (SnapCo), which works to build political power for Black and LGBTQ+ people. Shes a Columbia University writing fellow, a Marvel Cooke Abolition Journalism Fellow at Shadowproof, and was a 2023-2024 Perry Second Chances Scholar of the Thurman Perry Foundation. Dit bericht op Instagram bekijken Een bericht gedeeld door Poder Unides: Trans+ (@poderunides)She has also been busy reclaiming her work, scouring the web for all her work written under C. Dreams to replace it with her real name.In October, Perez will serve as a Grand Marshal in the Atlanta Pride parade, an honor she said she is still high on.When I went through my criminal case at 19, I felt really abandoned by my community, she said. I felt really hurt that my community just believed what people said about me I was on the streets from the time I was 13 As a girl that comes from childhood sex work and being a former drug addict to being where I am now, doing what I do and helping people and trying to work in service of a vision, to have Atlanta Pride acknowledge that, acknowledge the work that I do at the intersection of trans rights and LGBTQ+ rights and decriminalization and decarceration, that means everything to me.I think a lot of liberated queer people, people that are not incarcerated, they do forget theyre incarcerated queer brethren, she added, and I want to remind them that we are here, and we are still queer, and we are part of your community.She hopes the recognition is indicative that more women like her will finally be seen and supported. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Solutions Not Punishment Co. (@snap4freedom)I went to prison because of what I was doing for survival-based sex work. Part of the reason why I do this work is because people need to know that there are a lot of girls just like me that came from those streets, and we get thrown away by the system. I was thrown away by the foster care system and then thrown away by the judicial system.She is grateful every day for the foundation she laid for herself in prison that allowed her to build the life she wanted when she was finally released.Journalism gave me the chance to tell my own story, she said, to tell others stories to have the opportunity to be able to get out and do the work that I do now. That contraband cell phone and the chance to tell those stories, it was a lifeline for me. I thank myself all the time for the sacrifices I made, and the reality is, if not me, then who?Subscribe to theLGBTQ Nation newsletterand be the first to know about the latest headlines shaping LGBTQ+ communities worldwide.