<div><strong>Who we are</strong>
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<li>I’m <em>Tamika Spellman</em>, and I identify as an impacted individual: a Black transgender elder with 40 years of experience as a Survival Sex Worker and someone who has navigated substance use. I’ve survived the War on Drugs, the heartbreaking crack epidemic, mass incarceration, HIV, and systemic oppression. My advocacy journey began in 1990, starting with the provision of shelter services for trans folks. Now, I'm proud to be the founder and Executive Director of Grammy’s Place.
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<li>At <em>Grammy’s Place</em>, we’ve created a supportive housing collective specifically for Black transgender survivors of the War on Drugs and mass criminalization, including those who engage in Sex Work by choice or circumstance. Our housing comes with no strings attached — no time limits, and no requirements like having to stop using substances or leaving Sex Work. We advocate for a housing-first approach, offering comprehensive support and services that prioritize both mental and physical health. We’re also an advocacy collective fighting for trans rights, housing rights, disability justice, job opportunities, and racial justice. Our services extend to impacted individuals, Sex Workers, the homeless, and those dealing with substance use issues. Our team is made up of trans women with lived experiences who want to give back from a place of care and understanding, working hard to support our communities.
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<div><strong>Relocating our headquarters</strong>
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<li>After deep conversations with everyone in our collective, we've decided to relocate to Buffalo, New York by fall 2026 for a bunch of reasons.
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<div><strong>Our vision moving forward is shaped by our recent experiences</strong>
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<li>We've faced numerous attacks from the state, and from individuals who seem hostile—like whoever took the life of our beloved rescue dog. This has all influenced our tough decision to move. It all started when we first had to call 911 for help. Shortly after that, we felt that the city's response was retaliatory. City officials showed up, claiming we were breaking codes. Even though we didn’t get cited, they told us it was illegal for anyone to live in our garage apartment due to a code change. Things escalated quickly when the city posted notices demanding access to various areas of our property. We got a lawyer and managed to postpone their inspection since I was out of town. They implied we were running a boarding house, saying that having more than four unrelated people living together violated city codes—but they never even bothered to ask any of our housemates about who lived there or our relationships. They didn’t wear city uniforms or carry badges, but they did have cameras. From that day on, we realized calling 911 at home wasn’t a safe option anymore.
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<li>The next big incident was when someone came into our yard and murdered one of our dogs, Lucky. He was a little Shih Tzu, affectionately considered the ‘boss of the yard’ among our rescue pups (we’ve also got a Pit Bull and a German Shepherd). I was away speaking at a conference when it happened and had to rush back to handle the crisis. We received a donation for a privacy fence to secure the place, but to put it up, we had to survey the property—which led to another problem: a land dispute with our next-door neighbor who thought they could claim part of our space. This hostility was more than just a boundary disagreement; it was another attempt to control our presence in the neighborhood.
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<li>We also had issues with our basement flooding, which damaged our hot water tank. Fixing it while waiting for the insurance to kick in drained our funds for the fence, leaving us and our emotional support dogs vulnerable. And to top it off, our dispute with our neighbor made it impossible to move forward with the fencing. We found out that the same neighbor who tried to take our land had originally complained to the EMTs, leading to the city inspectors showing up at our place.
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<li>Recently, we’ve dealt with threats on social media. After the assassination of Charlie Kirk—who recklessly promoted dangerous neo-Nazi, white supremacist ideas including the Great Replacement Theory—it was disheartening to see so many people come out in support of him. I hadn’t even heard of him until that day, but I felt compelled to speak about the harm his rhetoric causes. I was met with hate, violence threats, and even job threats. I ended up deleting that comment. With the surge of hate surrounding his words, transgender women are becoming even bigger targets. He and others like him framed us as moral and social threats, while also normalizing violence and pushing against empathy. This kind of propaganda is especially dangerous for us, especially in a state with loose gun laws and recently enforced anti-trans laws. Our housemates worry deeply about potential violence, particularly since we’re visibly sheltered and increasingly under the radar of our city and community.
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<div><strong>Upcoming changes that threaten our lives</strong>
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<li>With all these serious threats, we’re also facing the loss of our healthcare coverage. Alabama hasn’t embraced all Medicaid expansions, and what little we do have is on the chopping block. Several of our members have health concerns and will lose access to mental healthcare too. Medicaid will soon be tied to employment, but employers often won’t hire transgender women because of their own biases. Plus, the fear of violence from extremists only complicates that. Many in our house have informal jobs that don’t provide healthcare, making it really tough to maintain our health. States like California, Washington, and New York can offer what the federal government falls short on.
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<li>We hope that moving will allow us to do more than just depend on state Medicaid. Our goal is to create a drop-in center that will employ trans women (many of whom are collective members). While we know the need for services is critical here, Buffalo is home to many more trans women needing help than we have in Alabama. We never planned for Grammy’s Place to be in only one spot, and Buffalo has always been on our radar as one of our next locations. We also intend to return to the south when it’s safer for our members, potentially under a different administration, and we want to offer housing to those in need nationwide, no matter where we are.
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<div><strong>Realizing our vision</strong>
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<li>We currently have complete equity in our property, which is valued at around $132k to $157k. The new place we’re looking at needs to accommodate not only our housing needs but also function as a drop-in center, with a group space and offices for our work. We’ve been lucky to find a property that meets all these needs. It used to be part of a Catholic school connected to a church. The property has two buildings—one was the rectory and the other a nunnery. Together, they would increase our permanent housing capacity from seven to 28, and our emergency/temporary capacity from 10 to 25. This project is ambitious but feasible. Plus, it’s fenced, has ample storage, parking, and is conveniently located on a bus route. The buildings are solid, well-maintained brick constructions. The asking price is $500,000, so we need to raise $425,000 to make this dream a reality. <em>(*Alternative plan is to have a purpose built building, built to suit our priorities)</em>
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<div><strong>Impact</strong>
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<li>There’s a huge demand for our services in Buffalo. No one else is stepping in to meet the low-threshold housing needs for trans Sex Workers. Trans women, Sex Workers, and those with histories of substance use face extra barriers (especially with this administration cutting services and programs) when it comes to finding housing, and having a safe, non-judgmental community can change lives. Our drop-in center will offer a safe space for people to hang out and access resources—like food, clothing, and services—seven days a week. Right now, houseless trans Sex Workers in Buffalo have nowhere safe to seek help and connect with others in the community. We’ll also be able to house more people and provide additional temporary and emergency spaces. We’re excited to offer essential harm reduction services, safer sex supplies, and overdose-preventing Narcan, all in a trauma-informed and culturally competent manner. We’ll continue our outreach and meal delivery efforts for those without homes too. Additionally, we’re looking forward to strengthening our networks and forming new alliances with medical and harm reduction providers to connect our people with the healthcare they need. I’m familiar with Buffalo (it’s where I was born and raised), so I have the connections and cultural knowledge to effectively advocate for houseless and housing-insecure trans women, Sex Workers, and substance users in that area.
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<div><strong>In conclusion</strong>
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<li>Our planned move comes with a host of benefits, but we know it won’t be without challenges. It’ll be tough to leave Alabama behind, but we must prioritize our safety, security, and health. This move is also the right step toward expanding our impact as we aim to provide more services, housing, and job opportunities.
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Safe Future for Survivors and Victims of systemic oppression

Safe Future for Survivors and Victims of systemic oppression

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