Installation view of artist Tourmaline’s “Pollinator” (2022) at the 2024 Whitney Biennial (photo Hakim Bishara/Hyperallergic)On February 13, the National Park Service (NPS) removed the words “transgender” and “queer” from the Stonewall National Monument website. The change was made in line with Donald Trump’s executive orders seeking to fight “gender ideology,” a dog whistle term for trans and queer people, and follows the closure of the National Gallery of Art’s (NGA) Office of Belonging and Inclusion, and the Smithsonian Institution’s diversity office.The next day, 1,000 NPS employees and Interior Department staff were fired and their account access was terminated within 15 minutes of receiving an email citing a less than “fully successful” performance rating. Three days later, federal workers and supporters marched on DC’s National Mall, calling out agency workplaces that have shown their support of trans and queer workers is transactional and temporary by complying with Trump’s executive orders, which include denying that trans, queer, nonbinary, and intersex people exist and call gender-affirming care “child mutilation.” Historian Hugh Ryan wrote for Slate that we are seeing the actualized erasure of not only queer people but our histories, too. As the LGBTQ+ community expresses outrage, trans and queer publics and museum workers know that this is not the first time that federally funded museums have been complicit in taking away their rights. These are the same institutions that have used DEI programs to tokenize marginalized staff, hiring them only to ignore, restrict, or avoid promoting them within the organization, and now threatening the very initiatives that they created in order to comply with mandates that legal scholars have already deemed illegal. Now is the time for museums to vocally and visibility support trans and queer histories. Museums maintain immense political and social power, and at the heart of sharing queer histories is the affirmation and representation that trans and queer people have existed, do exist, and will continue to exist. So the question remains: What can museums do right now to support their trans and queer staff and visitors?Trans artist Chris E. Vargas has been pioneering the push for trans and queer representation in museums with his demands for trans+ affirming museums alongside Toronto-based trans museum professional Amelia Smith’s annotated bibliography. Larger organizations have also pushed for inclusion, such as the Gender Equity in Museums Movement, the BC Museum Association, and the American Alliance of Museums. Building on this work, I propose museums think critically about the following five items in order to understand why now is a crucial time to support the queer and trans staff and publics that make up their institutions. The time to take these steps has never been more important, as museums themselves are being directly challenged for the work that they do related to trans and queer histories. Understand the motivations behind your support.What is motivating you or your organization to now voice your support for trans and queer people? This support cannot be a temporary reaction to what is happening; it needs to be the start of genuine, long-term relationships with local and national trans and queer communities to understand how they have historically been excluded from and erased by White, cis, straight institutions. David Evans Frantz, a Los Angeles-based queer curator, notes that what’s most important is “creating places where people can have space within the institutions, and it also about understanding that this support can’t be a performative thing.” Recognize the people, organizations, and initiatives that have been doing this work for decades. Museums have a long record of censoring queer and trans histories, a fact that institutions should confront and recognize. This form of “covert censorship,” which Jonathan Katz describes in his article in On Curating, has been going on for decades. He writes that many of the museums he reached out to about displaying his exhibitions were not willing to lend artwork that would be viewed from a queer perspective, even though they were openly supportive. Similarly, some institutions follow intensive review processes that have the same effect: deterring staff from even presenting ideas for queer and trans programming, exhibitions, and long-term collecting. Museums need to think critically about the internal structures that affect when, how, and why these histories are shared.Protesters gathered outside the Stonewall Inn on February 14 to oppose the removal of references to trans people on the monument’s website. (photo by Spencer Platt/Getty Images)Frantz has been supporting queer and trans artists for years, just recently by opening the exhibition Millie Wilson: The Museum of Lesbian Dreams at the Krannert Art Museum in Champaign, Illinois. He worked within the ONE Archives, and most recently worked with Chris E. Vargas to publish the book Trans Hirstory in 99 Objects. The Museum of Trans Hirstory and Art, which Vargas founded, celebrates its 12th anniversary this year, while the Museum of Transology in London is set to open the exhibition TRANSCESTRY: 10 years of the Museum of Transology next month. Suffice it to say, Frantz explains, “the real hard work has been done by many different people in this community, many community-based institutions, many people who have been doing it without institutional recognition or support.” Larger institutions should find long-standing projects, initiatives, and historians and support them — and, crucially, support internal staff who have been promoting queer and trans artists, often without adequate funding or recognition. Ensure that your support is long-term, rather than temporary or transactional.As Smith said, “You have to stand by your audiences, and stand by the trans people you are working with because if you buckle to these far-right, anti-progressive, anti-trans pressures, you are undoing any amount of goodwill that you have built up.” She saw this firsthand at the Royal Ontario Museum, where the trust the museum built within the trans community by collaborating on an exhibition about Edo-era gender roles was shattered when the museum hosted an exhibition about the Harry Potter Wizarding World. As exhibition designer Margaret Middleton writes in the pamphlet The Queer-Inclusive Museum, exhibitions highlighting trans and queer artists can still be temporary signals rather than a reflection of long-term commitments. Museums need to look into how they are incorporating and centering queer histories in all of their exhibitions, programming and community engagement, and collecting initiatives. Particularly in light of ongoing legislative attacks, museums should support trans and queer staff members through tangible steps and visible, written support. Speak directly to trans and queer publics and employees. It is not the job of queer and trans museum employees, nor queer and trans publics, to educate cis, straight people about who they and their communities are, nor to be responsible for negative reactions. At the same time, museums do need to invite queer and trans communities into their institutions and learn from grassroots archives, libraries, museums, and galleries that prioritize the needs of their own and other marginalized communities. Being clear and direct about hosting performances, panels, exhibitions, and community drives featuring trans, queer, and intersex individuals is vital. Instead of leaning away from controversy and being complicit in advance — complying with executive orders when institutional responsibility and legality still remain unclear — lean into community action. Listen to what communities need right now. Despite good intentions, the reality is that many trans and queer communities are not ready to trust large-scale institutions, Frantz said. “For various reasons, we don’t trust these larger institutions with our histories or our attention, and that’s I think very justifiable,” he explained, adding that such wariness should be accepted and respected by these institutions. Sometimes, it’s most effective for museums to not dominate conversations about queer and trans history but instead point to established initiatives and centers with deep roots within the community. This does not mean institutions should wait for these organizations to lead, but rather leverage institutional visibility and support around them. As Smith said, “the role museums can play right now could be in preserving these histories, making sure that these histories are not lost forever.” Right now, museums are uniquely positioned to challenge the erasure of trans and queer histories, understanding that speaking out will likely affect how they function and their funding sources. It will require museums to grapple with the risks and backlash that many grassroots archives and museums have faced for decades but are only now affecting major institutions as a result of the current presidential administration. These grassroots organizations have shouldered this risk for decades. It is a difficult, deadly time to be queer and trans in the United States today, but museums have an obligation to serve their staff and publics.