More than a decade ago on stage, I made an indefensible joke about Black people being subject to mass incarceration.

I wanted to emulate George Carlin when I was bantering between songs to get the audience to laugh but making a “race joke” as I called it made light of something I could never, ever know what it’s like to experience. It was wrong then and it’s wrong now. I’m sorry for what I said and the harm I caused.

The lived experience of Black people in America and the stories and data about their experiences show a consistent bias against them in every step of the criminal justice system and beyond.

That includes the likelihood of being accused of a crime for which others might not in the first place, to the far-too-often fatal interactions with law enforcement; from making their case in front of a judge and jury who are supposed to be impartial, to the verdict and sentence they receive that’s so often disproportionately more severe; from how they’re treated inside jails and prisons to when they’re able to return to society; from post-incarceration reintegration to fully regaining their civil rights.

Additionally, lawmakers in Virginia still have so much work to do to address the ongoing fallout of hundreds of years of intentionally oppressive, racist policies that in the modern day have led not only to higher incarceration rates for our Black constituents but have left so many people behind in so many other aspects of life and society.

Nothing about any of that is acceptable and I should have demonstrated empathy, not made a punchline out of the suffering endured by so many people.

As an elected official in 2023, I want to make a difference to change that entire equation so the Code of Virginia and our state constitution enshrine justice and prioritize liberation.

During the run-up to starting therapy in the fall of 2012 to treat gender dysphoria, I overcompensated on stage with over-the-top, manufactured bravado and drank myself to the bottom of a bottle off-stage until I got the help I needed to turn my life around. None of that forgives or excuses my actions; it’s just where I was as a person at the time.

After more than a year of therapy, I started my physical transition in 2013 at age 28 not just to align my body and mind but to stop pretending to be someone else, stop trying to impress people and actually live authentically.

So many people don’t get that chance and for someone who’s had a second chance at life now, it’s shameful to think about my lack of empathy for others needing a second chance 11 years ago, not to have their trauma trivialized.

When I ran for office at age 32 in 2017, I determined I could do good instead of harm for my lifelong home community, especially for people who’ve been marginalized and victimized by systemic oppression. I’m grateful my constituents have given me the opportunity to demonstrate what it means to be an inclusive leader three times and even now, this year, in this campaign for state Senate.

When I voted for every criminal justice reform bill to make it to the House floor during the 2020 special session and later during the 2021 regular session, I thought some of my votes may require a lot of explanation at home but I knew they would do the most good for my constituents by taking needed steps toward preventing injustice and harm.

I’ve also wanted my constituent service work to reflect a commitment to justice, from raising tens of thousands of dollars to help rebuild a historically African American church in Gainesville gutted by an arson fire to working with my constituents on legislation to protect historic African American and Native American family cemeteries and internment rights on former heirs property in Thoroughfare. We’ve passed two of those bills my constituents asked of me and, as I told my constituents, the third one will be the first bill I file in 2024 if elected this fall.

When I transitioned a decade ago, I genuinely tried to put the self-destructive parts of my life behind me by focusing on what was to come instead of what’s already happened. It’s mortifying to be reminded of and relive that moment, years before I ever even thought of running for office, and yet I own it and the hypocrisy that surrounds it. I’m sorry for it and I’m dedicating my public service to making Virginia a more inclusive and more just commonwealth so every person can succeed because of who they are, not despite it.

Danica Roem

13th District Delegate

Virginia House of Delegates