Learnings from NationSwell’s event on ‘Protecting the Dignity of LGBTQIA+ Youth’

While many of the bills put forth will face significant legal challenges, the message they were drafted to convey is chilling on its face: After decades spent winning new legal protections, the LGBTQIA+ community is no longer safe in America.

In Idaho, HB 675 seeks to make it a felony for parents or doctors to give hormones or puberty blockers to trans minors, reclassifying the act as “genital mutilation,” and attaching a maximum sentence of up to life in prison. In Iowa, Gov. Kim Reynolds in March signed the pernicious HF 2416 into law, which prohibits transgender youth from playing on sports teams that correlate to their gender identity. And on July 1 — just two days after a NationSwell hosted a panel discussion dedicated to “Protecting the Dignity of LGBTQIA+ Youth” — the Ron DeSantis-backed piece of legislation known colloquially as the “Don’t Say Gay” law went into effect in Florida, effectively banning public school teachers from any mention of sexual orientation or gender identity in the classroom.

During NationSwell’s mainstage event, Colorado Gov. Jared Polis — the first openly gay man to be elected governor of a U.S. state — used his opening remarks to call upon “all 50 states” to protect same-sex marriage in state law amid fears that the Supreme Court will soon revisit the landmark Obergefell v. Hodges decision. And panelists Carl Siciliano, founder of the Ali Forney Center, Sam Ames, director of advocacy and government affairs at The Trevor Project, and Janelle Perez, a Florida State Senate candidate — alongside moderator Lauren Baer, a managing partner for Arena — joined Polis in calling for swift action to affirm the dignity and protect the rights of queer youth.

Below are some of the key takeaways from the conversation.


Young people — particularly homeless queer youths — have always been at the heart of the fight for LGBTQ+ dignity. While the trans activists Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera are most often credited with throwing the first brick during the Stonewall uprising of 1969, Carl offered the prescient reminder that the homeless queer youths hanging out in Sheridan Square that night were also instrumental in contributing the “lightning rod moment” that sparked the riots. As Siciliano noted: “Queer youth have always been at the center of the movement that launched our rights, and even 50 years later, we still have to work so hard to protect queer youth. It’s not just a smooth march towards progress.”

Pay attention to who is being left out of the conversation. As Ames noted, the Stonewall riots were about who was being disenfranchised and silenced — an important reminder we need to carry with us today in identifying the communities or groups most vulnerable to the constant string of attacks against the queer community. Sex workers, unhoused people, and incarcerated individuals who identify as LGBTQIA+ will all need special attention in the fight for dignity, and getting involved with and embedded in those communities at the local level will be more important than ever before.

The “gay agenda” exists, and it involves making the world safer for future generations. While conservatives frequently play political football with the idea of a monolithic “gay agenda” that seeks to trick and corrupt heterosexual children, Perez argued that the opposite is actually true. “‘You’re so worried about the gay agenda, but the gay agenda is just that we want to make things better for the generation behind us,” she said. “We’re all fighting for them to have a better life than we did, and we’re seeing that our fight isn’t over.” While GOP lawmakers frequently use the specter of the “gay agenda” to malign the LGBTQ+ community as predators and groomers in pursuit of their legislative agendas, Perez said that having conversations about a different type of agenda — one that seeks to protect queer and trans youth and their families — will need to be had loudly and often to counteract that political propaganda.

Trans girls — the “most marginalized of the marginalized” — are being targeted with particular ferocity. According to Ames, the discourse is currently being dominated by two primary groups: demagogues and dogmatists. While the dogmatists are the same religious crusaders who have long sought to undermine gay rights, the demagogues are relatively new as a phenomenon, and frequently use hate-mongering to fuel their aspirations for higher offices. Both groups have set trans girls in the crosshairs of their anti-gay agendas, targeting gender-affirming care — access to which has been proven to be highly correlated with suicide risk — with particular enthusiasm.

Mobilizing the politically apathetic will be a critical part of the fight to preserve LGBTQ rights. According to Siciliano, if the queer community and its allies hopes to protect the community from the legal threats it currently faces, they will have to engage people who are not typically politically engaged, using threats to freedoms as a galvanizing force. 

“It’s without a doubt that LGBTQ youth are going to face more risk of homelessness, bullying, suicide; look in your local communities to those who are dealing with these issues and connect, try to protect the young people who are going to face the brunt of these attacks,” he said. “Do what you can to support the organizations working to protect young people.”

Take the fight offline. Posting infographics to Instagram won’t be enough; as Baer pointed out, the next phase of the fight will necessarily involve showing up in real life and engaging with communities directly. Although it’s still important to read, listen, and tweet when necessary, enshrining the dignity of LGBTQ youth must also involve practical tactics like supporting direct service organizations and, if you’re planning to run for office, attending political training sessions like those offered by Arena that can help you run a winning campaign.

“During this critical time, don’t sit back,” Lauren said. “Lean in and become involved, because everything really is on the line for the queer community.”

This LGBTQ Gym in the South Is About So Much More Than Fitness

“As soon as you walk in [to a regular gym], someone is redirecting you, saying, ‘You’re in the wrong locker room. You’re in the wrong restroom,’” says Dillon King, a transgender man based in Louisiana. “You’re not there to make anybody else uncomfortable. But … it makes you realize, [you are] in fact making somebody uncomfortable just by being here.”
King is not alone in feeling this way. For all the good they can do for our health, gyms tend to be spaces that create rigid boundaries around expectations based on gender. And in the face of harassment and discrimination, many gender nonconforming people choose to simply stay home.
After years of uncomfortable experiences at the gym, King decided to create one where people like him could feel free to pursue healthy lifestyles — without judgment. And so he and his wife founded Flambeaux CrossFit in 2016 in Metairie, Louisiana, just a few miles outside of New Orleans.
Flambeaux doesn’t use gender categories to differentiate its equipment or restrooms, and emphasizes that all fitness levels, backgrounds and gender expressions are welcome.
The gym has become a center of fitness and community for queer people and their allies. “It seemed [before] that most of our get-togethers were at clubs, nightclubs, going out, staying up late, drinking always,” King told the SunHerald. With Flambeaux, the Kings have created a welcoming space for the LGBTQ community that also connects with their passion for fitness and healthy living.
“It’s more than a gym, it’s like a family,” says Flambeaux member James Husband.
Watch the video above to meet King and the team, and to learn more about Flambeaux.
More: This Nonprofit Offers a Lifeline to Transgender People — Just as They Need It Most

This Nonprofit Offers a Lifeline to Transgender People — Just as They Need It Most

When the news broke last week that the Trump Administration is considering legally defining gender as biologically fixed at birth, a panic took hold in the transgender community.
“Trans people are not new to dealing with bullies,” says Elena Rose Vera, deputy executive director of the suicide prevention nonprofit Trans Lifeline. Yet when the memo was released, Trans Lifeline’s call volume “immediately quadrupled,” Vera says. “After decades of work to build a more compassionate and equitable society, [these] attacks seek to punish them for the joy they have found, to drive back progress by any means necessary.”
The memo, drafted by the Department of Health and Human Services, is the latest in a series of statements and legislation issued by the administration that have left the transgender community feeling under siege. In the face of this news, Trans Lifeline views their work as more critical than ever. “I have lost many friends and loved ones in the community to violence and suicide — people who faced systematic and constant deprivation, humiliation and trauma,” says Vera. “Every one of those lives was precious.”
Other activists agree. “The erasure of your identity and your very existence makes you panic at your core,” Zeke Christopoulos, a transgender man and director of the advocacy group Tranzmission, told The Guardian. “It felt like a kick in the stomach.”


Trans Lifeline, which Vera says is the only crisis support hotline program run completely by and for the transgender community, aims to both support people on the brink of crisis and empower them to live healthier and more financially stable lives. A recent study found that 29 percent of transgender people in the U.S. live in poverty, more than double the national average, while housing and employment discrimination can push transgender people into less-than-legal forms of employment to make ends meet.
In 2017, Trans Lifeline merged with Trans Assistance Project, a microgrants program that helps pay recipients’ legal and administrative fees and guides them through the process to attain documents like passports, driver’s licenses and immigration papers. The goal is to give transgender people the tools that “make a happy, hopeful and honest life more possible, reducing the circumstances that lead to crisis and despair,” says Vera. Thus far Trans Lifeline has distributed over $166,500 to transgender people in need and have answered over 55,260 calls for help.
Activism and advocacy within the transgender community are critical, but everyone has a role to play in making the country safer for trans people, Vera says. “We all have friends, family, neighbors — perhaps a religious community, or a union, or a school or workplace — who we can talk to about treating trans people with respect,” she says. “Trans people have always existed, everywhere in the world, and no power in the world could keep us from existing.”
MORE: Rising Violence Will Not Deter the Transgender Visibility Movement
 

The Faces of America’s Diverse New Leadership

It’s a watershed moment and a season of firsts in U.S. politics. London Breed was just elected as San Francisco’s first African-American woman to serve as mayor. Hoboken, New Jersey, mayor Ravinder Bhalla is the nation’s first Sikh to hold that position. Danica Roem is the first transgender woman elected to the Virginia House of Delegates. And there is a record-breaking number of female candidates — more than 300 and counting — who are currently running for seats in the House.  
Here are four up-and-coming candidates who, if elected, will upend the status quo and make history in the process.

Stacey Abrams

In May, former state House minority leader Stacey Abrams secured the Democratic nomination for governor of Georgia. Abrams is the first black woman to be chosen as a major party’s nominee for governor, and if elected, she would be the first black woman to ever govern over a state in the nation’s history.
“I am humbled by the opportunity to, you know, sort of tile this ground for folks. But I’m also excited about what it means for everyone who has yet to see themselves reflected in leadership in America,” Abrams told the New York Times after her win against former state Democratic Rep. Stacey Evans. “My goal is to make certain everyone has a seat at the table and that folks can see themselves and their values reflected in our government.”
One of Abrams’ biggest challenges is the state’s Medicaid expansion.
Georgia was one of 19 states that didn’t expand Medicaid services offered through Obamacare. A recent report by the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation suggests that if the state were to expand Medicaid in the near future, it could provide health insurance to 473,000 more residents in 2019.
“Medicaid expansion is transformative for our state,” Abrams told the Times. “It will help every facet, every community, and I’m just deeply saddened and ashamed that we haven’t done so already.”

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New Mexico congressional candidate Deb Haaland could make history as the first Native American woman to serve in Congress.

Deb Haaland

“So tonight we made history,” Deb Haaland told a crowd of supporters on June 6, after winning the primary for New Mexico’s 1st Congressional District. If Haaland wins — as she is expected to — she will be the first Native American woman ever elected to Congress.
But it’s not just a win for diversity. One of Haaland’s top priorities, she says, will be environmental protection. “I’m concerned that if we don’t do more to protect our open spaces and reduce climate change, there will be devastating and lasting impacts on us and future generations,” Haaland wrote on the Daily Kos. “Ignoring climate change sets up our students and workforce for failure by not educating them about the needs of the future.”
New Mexico has recently experienced an oil boom, with Exxon and other companies investing billions in oil production. This also means that the state currently ranks third in the nation for crude oil production, which runs counter to the idea of reducing carbon emissions. Despite this fact, Haaland, a former Democratic state party leader, has proposed to make New Mexico the “clean energy leader” in the nation. “I will fight special interests in Washington who exploit Native, rural, and low income communities,” she wrote, “for the purpose of fracking and drilling that pollutes our environment.”

Diverse leaders 3
Congressional candidate Dan Koh is focusing on improving Massachusetts’ education system.

Dan Koh

Dan Koh was Arianna Huffington’s chief of staff and the first general manager of Huffpost Live before being chosen as Mayor Marty Walsh’s chief of staff in 2014 — all before Koh turned 30.
At 33, Koh is taking on a congressional race for Massachusetts’ 3rd District — and he’s raised $2.5 million in less than a year. If Koh wins, he will be the first Korean-American Democrat in Congress.
A product of a Massachusetts education, with two degrees from Harvard, one of Koh’s primary positions is a better education for everyone in the Bay State. “Massachusetts has one of the best education systems in the country, yet too many of our students are being left behind, especially in under-resourced neighborhoods,” reads his website.
It’s true that Massachusetts has some of the highest-ranked schools in the country, even when compared to other nations. But with Secretary of Education Betsy DeVos’ focus on voucher programs, which Koh argues guts public school funding, there are fears about the future of the state’s education system.
Koh proposes a three-pronged approach to helping education flourish in the state: invest in tuition-free community college; support funding for teacher development and recruitment; and provide universal pre-K for all students.

Diverse leaders 4
As the daughter of immigrants, Lupe Valdez says, “It is my goal to make sure that young Texans don’t face the same inhumane treatment I witnessed firsthand growing up.”

Lupe Valdez

After securing the Democratic primary nomination in late May, Lupe Valdez is the first openly gay Latina to run for governor of Texas.
A former Dallas County sheriff and a hardline progressive, Valdez could be a major player in the immigration debate by leading a state that is in the middle of a heated partisan battle on how to secure the nation’s borders.
A challenge Valdez faces in protecting immigrants is the state’s SB4 law — similar to Arizona’s “show me your papers” law — which allows police officers to act like immigration law enforcement and ask for proof of citizenship during, for example, a routine traffic stop.
“Standing up for immigrant communities has been a staple of my life,” Valdez writes on her website. “It is my goal to make sure that young Texans don’t face the same inhumane treatment I witnessed firsthand growing up.”
Valdez has said she grew up in the poorest zip code in San Antonio, with migrant parents who had eight kids. But through military training and access to good public education, she was able to thrive despite these odds. “I’m the candidate of the everyday working Texan, and I’m going to be their voice,” she says.

Editor’s note: A previous version of this article incorrectly stated that Dan Koh was running in Boston; he is, in fact, running for Massachusetts’ 3rd District, which is just north of Boston.

The Cops Standing With, and for, the Gay Communities They Serve

Not long after New York City police Detective Brian Downey slides into a corner seat at Philip Marie, a restaurant serving American comfort classics in Manhattan’s West Village, the owner drops by. He’s all smiles as he shakes Downey’s hand, welcoming him back for the umpteenth time.
“This place, it’s been good to us. They support us,” Downey says. “I want to support people who support us.”
Support is something of a loaded word for Downey. As a member of the NYPD, his job is to help and protect the public at large. But as the president of the force’s only LGBTQ fraternal organization — the Gay Officers Action League, or GOAL — his other role is to serve and support his brothers and sisters dressed in blue … and rainbows.
Gay police officers straddle two worlds: Outside the force, they are sometimes viewed with suspicion by their own kind. As part of the force, they’re navigating the very institution largely responsible for the violence that led to the modern gay rights movement. It can be a dizzying experience, knowing that the policies and practices of the NYPD haven’t historically aligned with their activism.
But Downey and others credit GOAL, a 36-year-old organization started at a time when many cops stayed in the closet, with bringing them wider recognition and respect among their fellow officers.
“Even in the short time I’ve been here, things have changed dramatically from [former Commissioner] Bill Bratton’s last term and now with [Commissioner James P.] O’Neill. We’re respected, and we are looked to for guidance,” Downey says. “And, believe it or not, we’re considered the cool kids — the queer kids are the cool kids.”

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Members of GOAL at the group’s 2018 NYPD Pride Celebration.

It wasn’t always this way. In fact, the gay rights movement was born out of a riot against the police. In 1969, New York City officers raided the Stonewall Inn, a gay club in Greenwich Village, sparking violent protests and clashes that lasted six days.
And back then, as now, the struggle between being both a cop and a gay activist wasn’t easily reconciled.
In 1981, NYPD Sgt. Charles Cochrane stood up at a city council meeting and outed himself. “I’m very proud of being a New York City policeman, and I’m equally proud of being gay,” he said to a stunned audience. He was testifying in support of a bill that would ban discriminatory hiring practices based on sexual orientation. Cochrane recognized the need for a sea change and, with the Stonewall riots still fresh on the city’s mind, started GOAL the next year.
Today, GOAL has more than 2,000 members from police agencies across the tri-state area and chapters in Philadelphia, Chicago and greater New England. The groups attend AIDS vigils, host meet-and-greets for neighbors to connect with LGBTQ officers, sometimes over coffee, and march in pride parades to show their visibility among a community still raw over the history of past tangles with police.  
“Bridging the gap between the community and the NYPD is one of the most important things we have been able to accomplish,” says Sgt. Ana Arboleda, vice president of the NYPD’s GOAL. “It’s an ongoing process, yes, but it’s important for the [gay community] — which has this mentality based on history that you can’t be both gay and a police officer — to see that there are gay cops out there. And it’s important for the police department to see that we are part of their workforce.”
That message resonates with Carl Locke, an NYPD detective and a member of GOAL. Before he joined the force 17 years ago, Locke was a social worker and director at the Gay and Lesbian Anti-Violence Project, where he investigated cases of police violence against the gay community.
“When I came into the police department, I came in because there’s only so much change you can [enact] on the outside,” he says. “Sometimes you have to to fix from within.”
And that change has, indeed, been noticeable — especially where optics are concerned. The NYPD is one of the most diverse police forces in the nation and has a handful of openly transgender administrators and uniformed officials.  
On June 12, a few weeks before this year’s Pride Parade, Downey stood at the front of an auditorium in New York’s police headquarters for an annual event to honor the city’s gay officers. Hundreds of gay cops and their straight allies were standing as the national anthem played. But the focus wasn’t on the U.S. flag; instead, the crowd was gazing at the transgender flag and the LGBTQ rainbow flag hoisted up, side by side.
“That was a historic moment,” Downey says the next day at Philip Marie. “The transgender flag — flying in police headquarters — is something I don’t think I would’ve ever imagined seeing five, 10 years ago.”
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“The transgender flag — flying in police headquarters — is something I don’t think I would’ve ever imagined seeing five, 10 years ago,” says NYPD Detective Brian Downey.

Members of GOAL see themselves as activists within a police department that has been historically slow to change. Even as recently as a few years ago, GOAL wasn’t allowed to hold Pride Month events, like the one this month to recognize their gay colleagues, at police headquarters.
But the tide has changed, in part because of GOAL’s work and the state inspector general’s mandate to make the NYPD more inclusive of transgender and gender-nonconforming citizens. Since 2012, the department has provided inclusivity training, led by members of GOAL, to talk about implicit biases and has directed every officer to take an inclusivity refresher course, which cadets are required to initially complete while at the academy.
And for other GOAL members outside of the NYPD, such as Lt. James Tracy of the Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey, police department, the ability to be openly gay while in the police force is important to make those meaningful changes.
Before coming out at work, Tracy kept his boyfriend a secret from coworkers. His boss made disparaging remarks about his sexuality, which resulted in a series of legal suits. But overall, he says, his presence on the force has had an impact on his small police department.
“They see me as a good cop because I do my job, and they haven’t changed the way they treat me,” Tracy tells NationSwell. “And that was super-important for me, that they didn’t act differently.”
Despite progress made at their workplaces, members of GOAL say that same acceptance is harder to come by within their own community.
“There are a lot of people who don’t like police officers,” says Locke. “There have been plenty of times when people are just not happy you’re there. But it’s a little different getting it from your own community, because they of all people should know you’re doing something to make a change.”
Police officers taking part in pride parades have gotten pushback the past few years, as more awareness and media presence has focused on unfair treatment of black citizens and the unsolved murders of transgender people.
“I do feel that we have to constantly remember that we’ve come so far, but also how easily things can get taken away,” says Locke, adding that it’s important to remember the police’s part in the history of the Stonewall uprising. “But it’s also a time that we celebrate who we are. Pride is much more complicated than just a protest.”

Standing for Country, Standing for Self

I didn’t grow up with military service in mind. Honestly, I joined the Air Force because I wanted to be an astronaut. In sixth grade, I went to a space camp and asked, simply, “How do I do this?”
From then on, I became obsessed with the Air Force. I was going to join the U.S. Air Force Academy, and nothing was going to change my mind. I even carried around the Academy’s college handbook in my backpack throughout high school.
I had such high aspirations for being in the military; I thought I’d be joining one huge family. But early on, I realized that wasn’t going to be the case. If the military was a family, it was one that wasn’t accepting of me. And that can make a person feel trapped and alone.
Before even enlisting in 2005, the fear of being outed was on my mind. That was because at the time, you couldn’t be gay and also serve in the military. Back when social media consisted of AOL chat rooms, people would mock me when I told them I wanted to join the Air Force Academy.
“‘Oh, you’re trying to go into the Air Force Academy, and you’re a fag?’” was something I heard often.
So I kept it in. After high school I attended Valley Forge Military Academy, a military prep school and junior college in Pennsylvania, and I made sure to stay tight-lipped about my sexuality. It wasn’t long before I saw first-hand what happened to people like me who didn’t keep quiet.
One of the cadets had been talking to other gay men online. Eventually word got out, and other cadets began blackmailing and harassing him. He was terrified, and it was my first experience of seeing what could happen to me under the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, which was still in effect. The law allowed a gay man or woman to serve in the military — so long as they stayed closeted and no one knew. If they were outed, they could be kicked out.
By the time I realized my dream and enrolled at the Air Force Academy a year later, a deep loneliness had set in. At some point, you realize that you are gay and that you need to seek out your own happiness and find other people like you. So that’s what I started to do.
What began as a way to simply connect and make friends with other gay cadets on Craigslist — the Academy has a unique zip code that makes it easy to find each other — turned into a nightmare. One professor, who was and still is very vocal about his ties to an anti-gay Christian organization, found out and began harassing me.
When I graduated in 2009, I was being blackmailed because of my sexual orientation. This continued even after I moved down to Alabama to start my technical training. Eventually, I had a breakdown. I couldn’t handle the stress, and I came out to my straight friends serving alongside me. They were all so supportive and understanding. The next day, they voted me their flight commander.  
To these guys, being gay and in the military was not a big deal. And that, for me, was a big deal — that here’s all these straight guys whom I just came out to, who learned about my situation, and they not only supported me, they also saw me as a leader.
That kind of empowered me to say to myself, “Wow, maybe I can change some things.”
So I did.

Josh Seefried, center, and members of OutServe-SLDN commemorate LGBT Pride Month at the New York Stock Exchange in 2013.

In 2010, just before DADT was repealed, I started an organization called OutServe. Though its advocacy has grown in scope in the years since, OutServe’s original purpose was to build an underground network for gay service members. I advocated under a pseudonym — JD Smith — and worked on telling stories to national news networks while appearing in shadow to preserve my identity.
But more than the activism, OutServe-SLDN, as it’s now known, was starting to connect people at bases. For the first time ever, service members deployed to Iraq could find another gay person and connect with them over a cup of coffee. Or if someone from Ohio was redeployed to a base in Alabama, it would be easier for them to find other gay people.
That social network is the most important thing that OutServe-SLDN has ever created, and it is my proudest accomplishment because I feel it saved lives. Seeing it succeed, I finally felt like I was creating that bit of family that was missing from the military for me and others like me.
OutServe-SLDN has grown tremendously since I left the service in January 2017. And even though DADT has been repealed, it’s still not safe to be gay in the military.
Though I never faced direct and explicit homophobia while on base, after the 2016 presidential election someone said to my face, for the first time, “Maybe this time fags won’t be allowed to serve.”
And now, with the threat of a transgender ban on the table, we need advocates more than ever.
It’s like what Harvey Milk said, which is at the end of the battle, you have to take a risk. You have to be visible. And the moment LGBTQ people in the military are not visible anymore is the moment that other young gay kids don’t think that they can serve. So yes, it is going to be risky. And it is going to be hurtful, but we need gay service members to stay the course and stay visible — as much as possible.

— — —

As told to staff writer Joseph Darius Jaafari. This essay has been edited for style and clarity. Read more stories of service here.
Homepage photo by Andrew Renneisen/Getty Images.

The 10 Most Powerful Documentaries of 2017

To say the year in politics has been a whirlwind would be an understatement. Expensive natural disasters ravaged great swaths of the country, immigration and tax reform provoked wicked political attacks from both the right and the left, and stark revelations from women exposed a culture of sexual assault that touches almost every industry. And that’s just been the last four months.
In film, though, it was a year of fantastic documentaries that moved, inspired and challenged us. Here, our top perspective-changing films of 2017.

“Chasing Coral”

Years of overfishing and boating have caused coral reefs around the world to vanish, as they transform from once-vibrant homes for a diverse array of wildlife to colorless rock devoid of life. “Chasing Coral” follows a team of scientists, photographers and divers as they try to answer the question: Why are the world’s coral reefs are disappearing, and what we can do about slowing their untimely death?

“The Death and Life of Marsha P. Johnson”

The rise of the LGBTQ movement is often talked about through the lens of gays and lesbians, but very little ink has been given to how the drag and transgender communities played an equally significant role. One of the most prominent names in the fight for equality was Marsha P. Johnson, a transwoman and activist who was well known in New York City’s gay scene for decades, beginning with her role in the Stonewall Inn riots of 1969. But her mysterious death in 1992 has been debated for years. Was it an inside job by the mob? The NYPD? Or was it all just a tragic accident?

“Heroin(e)”

In Huntington, W. Va., the opioid epidemic is killing people at a rapid pace. The small city’s fire department fields dozens of calls a day relating to overdoses, but it has few resources to help everyone who needs it. This short documentary follows three local women as they battle the crisis in the city known as the “overdose capital of America”: the fire chief who dispenses life-saving drugs, the church leader who helps get women off the streets, and the judge who keeps addicts out of jail and with their families.

“I Am Evidence”

Mariska Hargitay, best known for her role as Detective Olivia Benson on “Law & Order: SVU,” has been one of the most vocal activists for getting rape kits tested and prosecutions made across the nation. Her film, “I Am Evidence,” explores the widespread problem of untested, backlogged rape kits, and the thousands of women each year who don’t get to see justice because of it.

“I Am Not Your Negro”

This Rotten Tomatoes certified-fresh movie is wholly inspired by the unfinished work of writer and social critic James Baldwin, an openly gay black man and civil rights activist famously known for his debate in Cambridge against William F. Buckley in 1965. The movie, narrated by Samuel L. Jackson, is an intensely sobering look at race in America, and how far we haven’t come in mending racial wounds.

“Nobody Speak”

We all had our love/hate relationship with Gawker, the now-defunct website known for its dogged, and sometimes unapologetic, journalism covering (and skewering) anything celebrity- and media-related. But the company’s brash take on free speech was challenged in a lawsuit brought by Terry Gene Bollea, aka Hulk Hogan, after Gawker published a sex tape starring the former wrestler. The court case was a mix of jaw-dropping legal tap-dancing and dark money that traced back to Peter Thiel, one of President Trump’s earliest endorsers in Silicon Valley that had some major beef of his own with the website.

“Quest”

Filmed over the course of 10 years, “Quest” looks at the life of one family in North Philadelphia and juxtaposes the question of what it means to be a typical American family when gun violence and danger lurk everywhere in the neighborhood you call home.

“Rat Film”

Like it or not, rats are very similar to humans. Beyond genetics, we are just as filthy and opportunistic as the rodents that ravage our cities. In Baltimore, there’s not just a rat problem, “there’s a people problem,” as one of the film’s subjects points out. The documentary examines the rodent infestation in one small area of Baltimore — a city plagued by poverty and high crime rates — and how the issue speaks more to the divide in quality of life between white and black communities than adequate pest control.

“Strong Island”

In 1992, Yance Ford’s brother, William Ford Jr., was shot and killed in New York. Ford Jr. was black, the shooter white, and the jury refused to indict. Decades later, Ford has channeled his frustrations into a true crime documentary that questions the investigation into whether his brother’s death was a murder or an act of self defense.

“The Work”

Imagine being put into a prison for four days with hardened criminals. What would you learn about them? About yourself? “The Work” profiles three men from the outside who join a days-long group therapy event at California’s Folsom State Prison. The men get an inside glimpse into what it really means to be incarcerated in America, and the challenges inherent with rehabilitating oneself.

 

The Rise of Transgender Political Candidates

If visibility is key to influencing policies and the lawmakers who write them, then LGBTQ advocates could soon have reason to celebrate. Since the start of 2017, the number of transgender people campaigning for office has risen —leading multiple news outlets to dub 2017 the “year of the transgender candidate.”
So far, there have been 29 transgender individuals to appear on ballots this year, according to the Trans Candidates Project.
The result, hope activists, could change the way the U.S. debates sexual-identity politics, especially in an era when the culture wars have become so inflamed that state lawmakers routinely dedicate time and resources to dictating which bathrooms their constituents can use.
“Our opponents are pushing for anti-trans laws, and we really believe that trans lawmakers are the antidote,” says Elliot Imse, director of communications for the Gay & Lesbian Victory Fund, a nonpartisan political action committee. “When you have LGBTQ people in power it changes the conversation, and it changes policy.”
The number of trans people in the U.S. is estimated to be 1.4 million, or 0.6 percent of the national population, according to a June survey using federal and state data. The elected world, however, is out of step with the general population, Imse argues. “There are 520,000 elected officials and positions nationwide. Just six are held by openly trans people. We’re talking severe underrepresentation,” he says.
That imbalance, coupled with anti-trans policies in general, such as President Trump’s executive order banning trans people from military service, has lately been spurring action of a different sort. Instead of hitting the streets in protest, trans individuals are now hitting the streets for campaign signatures.

THE CASE FOR UP-CLOSE-AND-PERSONAL

“It’s purely about visibility,” says Mayor Jess Herbst of New Hope, Texas. A majority of the 600 people who live in her small Dallas suburb had likely never even met someone who’s transgender. At least, before this year.
Herbst took over as mayor in the spring of 2016, when she was still known as “Jeff.” This past January, Herbst announced her transition in an open letter to the town’s residents.
“I’m not especially sensitive to the pronoun I’m called, and I expect people to take time to make the change,” she wrote. “I will continue as Mayor and hope to do the very best for the town.”
Since then, little has changed in New Hope. Life is business as usual.
“In general, when I used to see people from my town — they wouldn’t shun me, necessarily — but they wouldn’t say hello,” Herbst tells NationSwell. “Now they do. After talking to me and getting to know me, there’s no less or more discussion around social issues.”
Since coming out as transgender, Herbst has been active in showing local support for trans issues, such as lobbying and protesting against Texas’ anti-trans bathroom bills, which have twice been voted down in the state.
But Herbst says that even in her own community, simply being visible has changed the way people view trans issues. She recounts a story about a close friend who had distanced himself after she announced her transition. He’s since become an important advocate for Herbst and the causes she supports.

As transgender visibility increases in local communities, so does support around LGBTQ issues such as nondiscrimination legislation.

TRANSFORMING ATTITUDES

Though the situation is anecdotal, what happened in Herbst’s small conservative town — where nearly 55 percent of voters in the county voted for Trump last November — is emblematic of what can happen when legislators are introduced to people outside of their demographic.
Research has backed this up. A 2015 study by the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill found that countries with more transgender representatives had a dramatically higher track record of providing civil rights to gay people. And in a 2016 study, published in the journal Science, research showed that a single 10-minute conversation between a neighborhood canvasser and self-professed transphobic voters actually reversed perspectives to be more inclusive of the trans community.
It’s a premise that former Missouri state Sen. Jolie Justus, a Democrat and a lesbian, has seen in action. In 2013, she persuaded enough Republicans to pass a nondiscrimination bill. Nearly all of them — nine in total — happened to be seated around Justus in the senate chamber as she spoke.
As MetroWeekly, an LGBTQ publication based in Washington, D.C., put it, “To vote against protections for an abstract community was one thing, but it was much more difficult voting against discrimination protections for Jolie and her wife, Shonda.”
One of the biggest hurdles for transgender and gay politicians is keeping social issues from seeping into the debate on other topics, such as the economy, education and infrastructure.
The tactic taken by Danica Roem, a transgender woman who won her district primary for Virginia’s House of Delegates this past June, was to put economic issues on the table first and address social ones later, according to people familiar with her campaign. (Roem’s campaign manager would not comment on the details of her campaign for this story.)
“[Roem is] a historic candidate, but when she knocks on doors she talks to people about jobs and economic issues. When you’re working with a conflicted voter who’s perhaps not vehemently anti-LGBTQ, but isn’t quite 100 percent on board with LGBTQ concerns, those are the people that these trans candidates need to reach,” says Imse. “Meeting people on the issues at a human level, [like Danica did], just allows people to shine and break through.”
Victory Fund, where Imse works, has been leading the effort since 1991 to get more LGBTQ candidates elected, providing campaign, fundraising and communications support. The organization primarily focuses on local and state elections to help combat anti-equality measures.
“We’re really seeing this political backlash against trans people, and trans folk won’t stand for it,” Imse says. “The reality is that trans people are deciding to step up and make lasting change.”

Tweets, but No Laws — Support for Transgender Service Members Comes From All Sides

President Trump tweeted in late July that the military would not “accept or allow” transgender service members. The news blindsided transgender members of the U.S. military deployed in hotspots and active war zones around the world.
“There’s a lot of anxiety and chaos that’s been injected into the system. It’s a national security issue, we need [our service members] focused and doing their jobs. Not afraid of losing them,” says Matt Thorn, executive director for Outserve-SLDN, the nation’s largest advocacy group for gay and transgender service members.
To be clear, nothing has been put into law yet. Politico obtained a message from the chairman of the Joint Chiefs, Marine Gen. Joseph Dunford, that said there will be no changes in how the military deals with transgender service members, “until the President’s direction has been received by the Secretary of Defense and the Secretary has issued implementation guidance.”
Until then, recent history, advocates and elected officials collectively offer precedent for protecting LGBTQ rights within the military.

Outserve’s fight for LGBTQ rights in the military

OutServe began as a secret Facebook group during the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” days when gay men and women could be discharged from the military for their sexual orientation. Since connecting with more than 4,000 service members, the group merged with the Servicemembers Legal Defense Network to form OutServe-SLDN, an influential lobbying force fighting for civil rights within the armed forces for LGBTQ service members.
The organization’s efforts have paid off. In 2011 the military (with the support of the U.S. Senate) repealed its historic anti-LGBT “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy. And OutServe-SLDN’s founder, Josh Seefried, was contacted by Pentagon officials to help shape future policy.
In 2012, a report issued by the Palm Center, an independent research institute on public policy, found that a year after “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” was repealed, there was no change in service members’ abilities to complete their missions or work — putting conservatives at ease on how the change in policy would affect day-to-day duties.
Then two years ago, the Senate nominated Eric Fanning, who is openly gay, to his former post as Army secretary under President Barack Obama.
The ban for transgender service members was lifted in June 2016, removing the last barrier of service for members of the LGBTQ community. The decision came after a study found that the cost to pay for transgender service members’ gender reassignment and medication would cost less than one percent of the entire military budget, according to a RAND Corporation report that was conducted while the ban was still in place.
In July 2017, OutServe-SLDN worked with the American Military Partner Association against the Hartzler Amendment, which cut government funding for transition surgeries and hormone therapy treatments for transgender service members. The amendment failed 214-209.
As a result of President Trump’s announcement, OutServe-SLDN is preparing for legal battles to help protect transgender military members currently serving and to fight any regulation that might come from the White House. “If it comes to it, we’re prepared to go to court if he puts anything on paper,” says Thorn.

Bipartisan support for LGBTQ service members

Working in tandem, policy makers from both sides of the aisle are also standing up for LGBTQ rights. Former Defense Secretary Ash Carter, who lifted the transgender ban last year, said Trump’s decision would, “send the wrong signal to a younger generation thinking about military service.”
Sen. John McCain, who has recently gained renewed fame (thanks to his speech on bipartisanship), said in a statement, “We should all be guided by the principle that any American who wants to serve our country and is able to meet the standards should have the opportunity to do so — and should be treated as the patriots they are.” Though, he reserved his opinion on whether transgender service members would serve until medical studies were done.
And other members of Congress have returned fire on Twitter. Sen. Orrin Hatch of Utah posted a statement on the social platform that said, “I don’t think we should be discriminating against anyone. Transgender people are people, and deserve the best we can do for them.” Meanwhile, Sen. Rob Portman of Ohio wrote, “All who serve in our military deserve our gratitude [and] respect. We should not turn away people who are willing [and] able to serve this country.”
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