Opinions
Remembering Frank
I’m honored to have crossed paths many times with the legendary activist
Not long after I arrived in Washington in October 2006, I went with Lou Chibbaro to a discussion meeting at HRC headquarters. The heads of several of the national gay groups were on a panel. Frank Kameny, who died Tuesday, was not, but was sitting in the front row. Somebody fumbled on a factoid of some sort — Kameny piped up immediately and in a stern and heated tone, corrected them, then segued into a fiery rant about injustice.
Lou leaned over to me and said, “What you’re hearing is classic Frank Kameny.” I only knew Frank by name prior to that evening. I would come to know him rather well through my work at the Blade over the coming years.
Frank certainly could be prickly — one doesn’t become a rabble rouser to the degree he was by being sweet and cuddly. But he was always very gracious to me and was willing to do anything reasonable to help accommodate my deadlines and help any way he could. I interviewed him many times in my five years at the Blade. We talked at length in 2009 — I’m so glad I have the interview recorded — about his work founding the Mattachine Society, which will celebrate its 50th anniversary next month. Our peg was the 40th anniversary of Stonewall. Frank’s opinion was that his earlier work with the Society, though small at the time, made the societal soil fertile for Stonewall a few years later and that without that, Stonewall never would have happened.
“I’m 100 perent convinced of that,” Frank said.
I can still hear in my head his description of attending the first Pride parade in New York and the utter astonishment in his voice at the number of people there. He was utterly flabbergasted.
“Right there it was in front of one’s eyes!” he said incredulously.
One of my favorite visits with Frank was also one of the most low key. I spent about an hour with him at his cluttered house in the fall of 2009 to take his photo. I’m no great photographer but Callie, our photographer at the time, didn’t have a car and Frank didn’t live near a Metro stop. It was just easier for me to swing by and take it. It was part of a photo project we did for our 40th anniversary in which we re-created several photos from the Blade’s archives. The late Doug Hinkle had taken a shot of Frank at his desk sometime in the ’70s. It wasn’t a particularly earth-shattering photo, but we wanted then-and-now shots of Frank in our retrospective. Frank took me to his upstairs den. It hadn’t changed hardly at all since the original shot was taken. He remembered exactly how he had been positioned in the original and picked up his rotary phone in exactly the same way. It was fun to see all his many accolades on the wall and observe him on his home turf. He apologized for the mess. The carpet and furniture were tattered. Talk radio played in the background. He was in no hurry and we took our time experimenting with angles and lenses.
Just about a month ago, Frank and I had another lovely phone chat. Knowing he was a night owl, I tried him one Tuesday evening about 10-ish. He much preferred late night calls to early morning ones. We talked at length about an effort that was underway to have him awarded a Presidential Medal of Freedom, the nation’s highest civilian honor. Sadly, this did not happen. I certainly have never personally known anyone more deserving. Frank knew an effort was underway by some activists. He said it would have been a lovely capstone to his life’s work.
I’m sure much will be written about Frank in the coming days. I have nothing particularly groundbreaking to add — I wasn’t there at the great moments in his life. I’m excited to hear what Lou, who has known him decades longer than I, will have to share. But I am glad that I got to know Frank and provide him with a little bit of the media limelight he so clearly enjoyed. It made me so happy to hear how excited he was to walk into town every Friday and pick up the Blade, a practice he’d been doing for years. You could tell he truly loved our paper — which he helped found. And we certainly loved him.
I would like to especially point out and publicly thank Marvin Carter for all his efforts helping Frank in recent years. Marvin did lots of little practical stuff for Frank and Marvin, please know that your efforts were appreciated by all of us who knew and admired Frank.
Authoritarianism does not announce its arrival. It’s too cowardly for that. It advances quietly, at the margins, testing how much fear and cruelty a community will tolerate and what bystanders will allow to happen to fellow human beings. History shows that queer folks, especially trans people, are often targeted first. That targeting is not incidental. It is intentional.
Defending queer rights is not a niche concern. It is a test of democratic health. A society that allows one group to be targeted will not stop there. Those who come for queer people in the morning are the same that go for educators, journalists, voters, and civil institutions in the afternoon. This is not speculation. It is a well-worn pattern.
Around the world, LGBTQ+ communities are under coordinated attack. In Russia, the so-called “international LGBTQ movement” has been labeled extremist, legally equating queer identity with terrorism. We are seeing distinct echoes of that foreign influence here at home. Elsewhere, governments criminalize queer existence, erase trans people from public life, or force people into silence through intimidation. The sequence is familiar: dehumanizing rhetoric, restrictive policy, and eventually open endorsements of violence. When these warning signs are ignored, repression accelerates.
It would be comforting to believe this is distant or abstract. It is not. In the United States, LGBTQ+ people, including trans people, have sought asylum abroad because they no longer feel safe in our own communities. When our neighbors must leave to feel safe, we have failed our community.
Experts at the Lemkin Institute for Genocide Prevention have warned that trans communities in the United States face serious and escalating danger. Their analysis is grounded in history. Genocide is not only mass killing. It is the systematic destruction of a group’s ability to exist safely and openly. Legal erasure, public demonization, exclusion from institutions, and tolerated harassment are all early stages of that process. History is clear. The time to act is before harm becomes irreversible.
Democratic backsliding rarely arrives with fanfare. It comes through school board votes, bureaucratic rules, elected leaders’ inaction, and symbolic reversals that seem small until they accumulate. This is how erosion takes hold.
In Salisbury, Md., my hometown, that erosion has become visible. The city halted the flying of Pride flags during Pride month and removed our downtown rainbow crosswalk. These were not neutral administrative choices. They sent a clear message to queer residents that their visibility and belonging are unwelcome.
When a community removes symbols that affirm dignity and safety, when books reflecting queer realities are pulled from schools and libraries, when children are excluded from participating in life simply because they are different, it creates harm. It teaches that difference is dangerous. And when politicians and people in positions of responsibility fail to protect trans kids, real harm follows: mental health crises, isolation, and even lives lost.
Pride flags, rainbow crosswalks, inclusive curricula, and supportive policies are not merely symbolic. They communicate that everyone belongs and that discrimination will not be tolerated. Removing them isolates queer people and emboldens those who see community as an exclusive club rather than a shared responsibility.
Queer liberation is not separate from the liberation of the broader community. It is inseparable from it. Living openly as queer challenges systems built on fear, rigid roles, and enforced conformity. When queer people gain ground, everyone gains ground. Each victory for queer liberation strengthens democracy itself.
This is how we know progress is possible. Every time a Pride flag stays flying. Every time a crosswalk remains painted. Every time a local ordinance protects gender identity. Every time a school affirms a student’s dignity. These are not small wins. Liberation grows through accumulation.
National politics can feel chaotic and overwhelming. Federal institutions are slow, complex, and distant. But democratic defense does not begin there. It begins locally, when neighbors show up to town halls, demand accountability, and refuse to let bigotry shape policy. It does not take extraordinary power to protect a city council chamber or a school board meeting. It takes people willing to stand up. It takes bystanders willing to step in.
This is the moment to act. Silence enables erosion. Action creates momentum. The question is not whether change is possible. It is whether you are willing to claim it.
Queer liberation is your liberation. When we defend the most targeted among us, we defend the future we all share. Every Pride flag flown, every rainbow crosswalk returned, every book left on the shelf, and every policy that affirms dignity sends a message far beyond town limits. It tells the world that democracy is being defended here.
Local victories are global victories. And every one of them matters.
Will Fries. is a Maryland communications strategist with experience in multiple major presidential campaigns.
Opinions
The felon in the White House must be stopped
Are there any decent Republican members of Congress left?
We are up shit’s creek if the felon in the White House actually thinks he has a Nobel Peace Prize. If he believes he deserves one, or Venezuelan opposition leader Maria Corina Machado had any other reason to give him hers, than it was easier, and less degrading, than going on her knees to him, as a number of men already have. I don’t know if she understood how many millions the medal could be worth. Instead, she could have used it for her people, if she didn’t want to keep it.
Machado was awarded the Nobel Prize for her work for the Venezuelan people. She spoke up for them, and fought for them. The felon couldn’t care less about them. He proved that by invading, and then supported Maduro’s vice president as president. He said he, and his fascist cohorts, would run the country, and is now stealing their oil and personally deciding what to do with it. After U.S. troops captured Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, Trump said, Venezuelan opposition leader Maria Corina Machado “doesn’t have the support within Venezuela to be its next leader, she was not consulted prior to the operation.” He went on to say, “I think it would be very tough for her to be the leader. She doesn’t have the support within or the respect within the country.” This is the slime bag she gave her Nobel Peace Prize medal to. I hope she is not naïve enough to believe he really cares about her, or her countrymen, and women.
Trump is vile, sick, and mentally deranged. He is threatening foes and allies alike. They see bending a knee to him only works for the moment, but has no long-term impact on his tiny brain. Today, he is threatening Greenland, and our NATO allies are moving their military to Greenland to protect it against the United States. Now he is threatening them with new tariffs. That would have once been unfathomable. He is saber rattling over Iran, Colombia, even Mexico. He is bombing Nigeria and Syria.
If that weren’t enough, he threatens to use the Insurrection Act to send the military into cities here. He has already sent in thousands of ICE agents. ICE is classified as a federal law enforcement agency under the Department of Homeland Security. They have authority to arrest, detain, and investigate immigration violations. However, the law is clear; ICE agents do not have unlimited power. They face significant constitutional restrictions that many people don’t realize, especially when it comes to entering homes and private spaces. But what is clear, in Minneapolis today, some of the agents are acting like the Gestapo. They are smashing car windows, pulling people out of their cars, invading homes, and workplaces, all without first having any proof the people they are going after are guilty of anything. I believe we need fair immigration laws, and they should be enforced. But this is clearly not what the felon is doing. The felon in the White House and his incompetent stooge at Homeland Security, Kristi Noem, who has no idea what the hell she is doing, are acting egregiously, and making a mockery of our democracy.
The president, Noem, Hegseth, Bondi, and the other incompetents in the felon’s Cabinet, simply pretend to forget the history of the United States. They don’t want to accept the truth; we are a nation of immigrants. It is immigrants who built our country, and are still building it. My parents were immigrants escaping from Hitler, and they came here and built a life, and in doing so, added to the greatness of our country. I want every person around the world who needs to escape from dictators, and despots, to be able to do the same as my parents did. We need to build an immigration system that allows them to do that. Instead, because of what this felon is doing, we are seeing American citizens thinking of leaving this country, and looking for asylum in others. That is really sick, but it’s happening.
Sitting in the Oval Office today we have a felon who is reveling in becoming the war president. He is taking the United States down an incredibly dangerous path, threatening our own citizens with violence here at home, and doing the same to our allies around the world. He, and the incompetents and fascists surrounding him, need to be stopped. If there are any decent Republican members of Congress left, they need to join with Democrats, and the voters, to stop him.
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
January arrives with optimism. New year energy. Fresh possibilities. A belief that this could finally be the year things change. And every January, I watch people respond to that optimism the same way. By adding.
More workouts. More structure. More goals. More commitments. More pressure to transform. We add healthier meals. We add more family time. We add more career focus. We add more boundaries. We add more growth. Somewhere along the way, transformation becomes a list instead of a direction.
But what no one talks about enough is this: You can only receive what you actually have space for. You don’t have unlimited energy. You have 100 percent. That’s it. Not 120. Not 200. Not grind harder and magically find more.
Your body knows this even if your calendar ignores it. Your nervous system knows it even if your ambition doesn’t want to admit it. When you try to pour more into a cup that’s already full, something spills. Usually it’s your peace. Or your consistency. Or your health.
What I’ve learned over time is that most people don’t need more motivation. They need clarity. Not more goals, but priority. Not more opportunity, but discernment.
So this January, instead of asking what you’re going to add, I want to offer something different. What if this year becomes a season of no.
No to things that drain you. No to things that distract you. No to things that look good on paper but don’t feel right in your body. And to make this real, here’s how you actually do it.
Identify your one true priority and protect it
Most people struggle with saying no because they haven’t clearly said yes to anything first. When everything matters, nothing actually does. Pick one priority for this season. Not 10. One. Once you identify it, everything else gets filtered through that lens. Does this support my priority, or does it compete with it?
Earlier this year, I had two leases in my hands. One for Shaw and one for National Landing in Virginia. From the outside, the move felt obvious. Growth is celebrated. Expansion is rewarded. More locations look like success. But my gut and my nervous system told me I couldn’t do both.
Saying no felt like failure at first. It felt like I was slowing down when I was supposed to be speeding up. But what I was really doing was choosing alignment over optics.
I knew what I was capable of thriving in. I knew my limits. I knew my personal life mattered. My boyfriend mattered. My family mattered. My physical health mattered. My mental health mattered. Looking back now, saying no was one of the best decisions I could have made for myself and for my team.
If something feels forced, rushed, or misaligned, trust that signal. If it’s meant for you, it will come back when the timing is right.
Look inside before you look outside
So many of us are chasing who we think we’re supposed to be— who the city needs us to be. Who social media rewards. Who our resume says we should become next. But clarity doesn’t come from noise. It comes from stillness. Moments of silence. Moments of gratitude. Moments where your nervous system can settle. Your body already knows who you are long before your ego tries to upgrade you.
One of the most powerful phrases I ever practiced was simple: You are enough.
I said it for years before I believed it. And when I finally did, everything shifted. I stopped chasing growth just to prove something. I stopped adding just to feel worthy. I could maintain. I could breathe. I could be OK where I was.
Gerard from Baltimore was enough. Anything else I added became extra.
Turning 40 made this clearer than ever. My twenties were about finding myself. My thirties were about proving myself. My forties are about being myself.
I wish I knew then what I know now. I hope the 20 year olds catch it early. I hope the 30 year olds don’t wait as long as I did.
Because the only way to truly say yes to yourself is by saying no first.
Remove more than you add
Before you write your resolutions, try this. If you plan to add three things this year, identify six things you’re willing to remove. Habits. Distractions. Commitments. Energy leaks.
Maybe growth doesn’t look like expansion for you this year. Maybe it looks like focus. Maybe it looks like honoring your limits. January isn’t asking you to become superhuman. It’s asking you to become intentional. And sometimes the most powerful word you can say for your future is no.
With love always, Coach G.
Gerard Burley, also known as Coach G, is founder and CEO of Sweat DC.

