We’re looking forward to introducing you to Mallery Jenna Robinson. Check out our conversation below.
Mallery Jenna, it’s always a pleasure to learn from you and your journey. Let’s start with a bit of a warmup: What is a normal day like for you right now?
Since losing my mother, Terese Dione Robinson, on May 20, 2025, I’ve been navigating waves of grief and healing. Her passing has reshaped my perspective on love, resilience, and legacy. My mother was my foundation—her strength and compassion guide how I show up for others and continue the work that honors her spirit. Though grief remains, I channel it into purpose, allowing it to deepen my empathy, patience, and sense of justice. Each day, I strive to live in a way that reflects her grace, courage, and unconditional love.
A normal day for me begins with centering myself through meditation and reflection before diving into community-centered work. Much of my day is spent coordinating with partners and collaborators, developing communications strategies, and advancing advocacy projects focused on racial, gender, and health justice. I often balance meetings, storytelling, and research with mentoring emerging leaders or preparing for trainings and presentations. Evenings are for creative expression—writing, music, or dance—which help me stay grounded and connected to purpose.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Hello, my name is Mallery Jenna Robinson, and I am a community advocate, storyteller, and equity-driven leader based in Los Angeles. I specialize in creating programs and initiatives that center marginalized voices, with a particular focus on Black and transgender communities. My work spans public health, environmental justice, and social advocacy, and I have had the privilege of serving on multiple advisory boards, including the West Hollywood Transgender Advisory Board and the Long Beach Trans Wellness Board.
I also lead creative and educational initiatives such as Transgender Empathy Training and A Hateful Homicide, projects that combine narrative storytelling with actionable strategies to foster empathy, visibility, and systemic change. What makes my work unique is its intersectional approach—blending lived experience, data-informed decision-making, and collaborative partnerships to drive real impact. I am passionate about amplifying stories that often go unheard and building spaces where communities can heal, thrive, and lead transformation.
Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. What was your earliest memory of feeling powerful?
My earliest memory of feeling powerful was when I stood up for myself and others in school after witnessing a classmate being bullied. I remember feeling that spark—the realization that my voice could shift the energy in a room, that speaking truth could create safety and change. As a young Black transgender girl navigating spaces that often didn’t see or affirm me, that moment taught me the strength of courage and compassion. It was the first time I understood that power isn’t about control—it’s about integrity, empathy, and using your voice to make a difference for those who can’t always speak up.
Do you remember a time someone truly listened to you?
Yes — I remember a time when someone truly listened to me during one of the hardest moments of my life. After coming out as a Black transgender woman, there were times I felt unseen and misunderstood, even by people who cared about me. But one day, a mentor in the community sat with me, no judgment, no interruptions — just deep presence. They didn’t try to fix me or offer advice; they simply made space for my truth, my grief, and my hope.
In that moment, I felt the power of being witnessed. It reminded me that listening is an act of love and liberation — that when someone truly hears you, it helps you remember your own strength. That experience continues to shape how I show up for others, especially those whose voices are often overlooked.
Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. Whom do you admire for their character, not their power?
I deeply admire my mother, Terese Dione Robinson, for her unwavering integrity, compassion, and resilience. She led by example, not through authority or influence, but through the consistent ways she cared for others, upheld her values, and faced life’s challenges with grace. Her character—her kindness, honesty, and commitment to justice—taught me that true strength comes from empathy, humility, and courage. Even in moments of adversity, she reminded me that impact isn’t measured by power or status, but by the love and respect you cultivate in your relationships and the positive change you inspire in others
Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. What do you think people will most misunderstand about your legacy?
I think people might misunderstand my legacy as being defined solely by my advocacy, titles, or public accomplishments. While those are visible parts of my work, the heart of my legacy lies in the care, mentorship, and empowerment I’ve offered to individuals and communities, especially those who are most marginalized. My hope is that people remember not just what I accomplished, but how I showed up—with empathy, courage, and authenticity—to create spaces where others could thrive and be seen. It’s the quiet, relational, and transformative moments that I hope endure beyond any public recognition.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://ahatefulhomicide.net/trans-empathy-trainings-1
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/malleryjenna90/
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/mallery-jenna-robinson-4bb439222/
- Twitter: https://x.com/ahatefulhomicid
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mallery.robinson/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@AHatefulHomicide
