Karmin Wells' Murder Sparks Calls for Justice and Safety for Black Trans Women

Two months after her murder, ballroom mother Monica Hudson reflects on Karmin’s resilience, fierce love and unfulfilled dreams

Published: July 15, 2025 | Last Updated: July 28, 2025

Ballroom mother Monica Hudson called her "the walking wonder" — a trans woman who could “set fire” to any runway and light up any room. She should be cheering on Karmin Wells as the ballroom legend worked toward icon status in the Iconic International House of Revlon. Instead, Hudson is seeking justice for the beloved performer who was shot and killed in her Detroit home on May 25, just days before turning 38, in a case that investigators say bears striking resemblance to other homicides targeting Black trans women.

"Unfortunately, as we know, a trans woman of color, Karmin Wells, was murdered in her house by someone that she let in," said Julisa Abad, community engagement liaison with the Wayne County Prosecutor's Office. Abad formerly served as director of transgender outreach at the Fair Michigan Justice Project, a non-profit organization founded in 2016 by Wayne County Prosecutor Kym Worthy and now-Attorney General Dana Nessel that partnered with Michigan law enforcement and prosecutors to investigate and prosecute dozens of crimes against the LGBTQ+ community with a 100% conviction rate. As of this writing, Fair Michigan’s website is no longer in operation. "I'm very, very grateful for the prosecutor's office in Wayne County, specifically Kym Worthy, for keeping our trans-inclusion policy in place," Abad told Pride Source.

Police reports indicate the suspect ransacked Wells' belongings and took her phone before leaving the scene. "I want the community to reach out and let us know whatever they know," Abad added. "If anybody was out there, if anybody knows anything, if they've heard anything, if they were with her that day or that week, come forward, call the number, call DPD." Anyone with information is asked to contact Detroit Police at 313-596-2212, and Crime Stoppers has announced a cash reward of up to $2,500 for information leading to an arrest.

For those who knew and loved Wells, her story is about far more than how it ended.

"Karmin would walk in and just light up the whole room with her sense of humor, her smile, her laugh," said Hudson, who served as Karmin's chosen mother both in the ballroom scene and in life. "Karmin was an amazing individual. Karmin was funny, Karmin was resilient."

Hudson, who works as a certified HIV prevention specialist, funeral director and ballroom performer (as Monica Devereaux), first met Wells when she was just 15 years old during outreach work at Palmer Park. "I am a prevention specialist. So I was always doing outreach at the park, assisting the youth and helping them get the resources and things that they needed," Hudson explained. "So me and Karmin was drawn together, and from that point she had become my daughter."

What began as mentorship evolved into a profound mother-daughter bond that transcended typical ballroom family structures. While Hudson has a designated role within the ballroom community as a “mother,” often her mentorship has extended beyond that framework. "There's people not in ballroom that I mother,” she explained. "Our community tends to just focus and think about the ballroom culture, but being Karmin’s mother was so much beyond that culture."

Their relationship was tested and deepened when Hudson decided to move to Atlanta. Wells wouldn't let her go alone. "She told me I couldn't go alone. And she was like, 'Girl, you think you about to leave me here? I'm going too.' I said, 'I'm leaving tomorrow.' She was like, ‘OK. We'll see.' And by the next couple of hours, Karmin was at my door with her bags asking, 'So, what time we leaving?'"

In Atlanta, their roles reversed as Wells took care of Hudson while she searched for work. "Karmin took over. She said, ‘Until you get that together, I'm the mama. I got this,’" Hudson recalled. "Karmin took care of me. And when she did it, she said, 'Ma, you took care of me all these years. In some way, somehow I have to take care of you. And I refuse to have to take care of you when I have to put you away.' And I said absolutely nothing, but just looked at her and cried because I never received that from anyone, not even my own mother." While the pair ultimately decided to return to Detroit, the experience strengthened their bond.

Monica Hudson and Karmin Wells. Courtesy photos

For Wells, ballroom culture provided a space where her dreams could flourish. "Karmin felt like by her being trans, she wasn't the ideology of the perception of what a model is," Hudson explained. "So, this is where ballroom came into place. I introduced Karmin to ballroom and let her know that this is a space where you can do and be whoever you choose to be."

Once she found her stage, Wells transformed into a force of nature. "Karmin would hit that runway and set fire to that runway. Naomi Campbell, Tyra Banks would have absolutely nothing on Karmin when Karmin was on that runway," Hudson said. The community nicknamed her "the walking wonder," and in 2018, Karmin achieved legend status in the Iconic International House of Revlon — a significant milestone in ballroom culture.

"That was the happiest moment because she felt like all the things that she went through and all the things that she did have paid off," Hudson remembered. "And from that moment she said, 'Ma, we're legends. So let's become icons.' I said, 'You become an icon because I only partook in this for y'all.' So, she said, 'I'm going to become your icon and I'm going to make you proud.'"

Wells’ death is part of a devastating pattern affecting trans women of color nationwide. Abad, who has become a nationally recognized expert witness on transgender violence and social determinants of health, emphasizes that these cases often involve perpetrators who were already familiar with their victims.

"When we look at statistics, data and numbers of the 68 capital cases that Fair Michigan was able to do with a 100% conviction rate, all of those defendants had had sexual contact with our victim on more than one occasion," Abad explained. "That means that they weren't tricked. It's not like they didn't know. They were comfortable enough to come back."

The violence, Abad said, often stems from shame rather than deception. "Where the problem lies and where, unfortunately, a lot of trans women experience murder is when someone is worried about somebody finding out about their preference — whether it be for religious reasons, because they live in an urban environment, because their family won't be as accepting, maybe if they are in a gang or of a certain culture where this is not something that's acceptable."

She painted a stark picture of the reality facing trans women of color in Michigan: "African American men rather love us in private and kill us in public rather than have anybody know of their association with trans women of color. And that in itself is a powerful statement."

For community members navigating survival sex work or simply meeting new people, Abad offered practical safety advice: "Always be very vigilant of where you're going, look up the area beforehand so you know what to expect. Always send somebody a location, a picture, a screen name, something identifiable about the company that you're going to have or where you're going. So in these cases, unfortunately, if something does happen, we have a starting point to be able to identify how that happened to you and to get you justice."

As the investigation continues, Hudson draws strength from knowing that Wells’ case is being taken seriously. "They're taking this case extremely serious. There's definitely some breakthroughs. A lot of things has been happening. Video, phone records, a lot of things," she said. "We're just sitting and waiting to see what's next."

For Hudson, who has buried many chosen children over the years — to drugs, to HIV/AIDS complications and other early deaths — this loss feels different. "I have never lost a child to any type of violence. And it hits kind of different, especially when it was someone that was super close and dear to you."

Despite her grief, Hudson finds purpose in keeping Wells’ memory alive through her work in the community. As both a ballroom mother and someone who extends care beyond the scene, she continues the mission Wells embodied.

"Karmin was a blueprint of what you can overcome. Karmin was a getter. Karmin was resilient. She was determined and she was love. There was nothing that Karmin as an individual could not overcome and do," Hudson said. "She would walk through a wall of fire and come out untouched and unburned because that's how Karmin was."

Information about this case can be shared with Detroit Police at 313-596-2212 or Crime Stoppers at 1-800-SPEAK-UP for those wishing to remain anonymous. Loved ones are accepting donations through GoFundMe to help with Wells’ funeral expenses.