Local
Housemate talks about Kameny’s home life
Gay activist’s ashes to be laid to rest in Saturday ceremony
Editor’s note: This is the second of a two-part report on Timothy Clark, the sole heir of Frank Kameny’s estate. Visit washingtonblade.com for more of this exclusive Blade interview.
Timothy Clark was Frank Kameny’s sole heir; the two lived together for almost 19 years in Kameny’s D.C. home, which is now on the market. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)
LGBT rights leaders from D.C. and across the country are scheduled to honor the late gay movement leader Franklin E. Kameny Saturday morning, March 3, at an interment ceremony in the city’s historic Congressional Cemetery.
Among those expected to attend is Timothy Lamont Clark, 35, Kameny’s friend, housemate, and heir of his estate. Clark’s 19-year friendship with Kameny was unknown to many of Kameny’s collaborators in politics and gay activism.
In an exclusive interview with the Washington Blade last week, Clark said he came to know a private side of Frank Kameny as the two developed a grandfather-grandson relationship that Clark says uplifted his own life and complimented Kameny’s tireless and rough-and-tumble role as a fighter for LGBT equality for more than 50 years.
Kameny died Oct. 11 at his home in Northwest Washington at the age of 86. Several years before his death friends and associates founded the Kameny Papers Project, which arranged for the papers documenting his life’s work as a recognized architect of the gay rights movement beginning in the early 1960s to be given to the Library of Congress, where they are available to researchers and scholars.
Gay historian David Carter, author of the nationally acclaimed book “Stonewall: The Riots that Sparked the Gay Revolution,” is writing Kameny’s biography.
Clark told the Blade he has long admired Kameny’s work on the local and national stage in the struggle for gay equality. But he said he shunned the whirlwind of political and movement events and activities that Kameny relished, calling himself “a very private person.”
Clark said he met the gay rights pioneer by phone at the age of 15 when he called the Gay Information hotline that Kameny operated out of his home in 1991.
At a time when he was struggling to accept his sexual orientation coming from a strong religious upbringing, Clark said Kameny gave him support and advice through a series of phone conversations that helped him cope with coming out to his family.
“If it would not have been for Frank maybe I would have been one of those kids committing suicide because I’m gay,” Clark said.
At Kameny’s invitation, Clark said he moved into the basement apartment of Kameny’s house in Northwest Washington in 1997 at the age of 20. Clark said he moved out in 1999 to live with his boyfriend in Virginia before returning to the house between 2002 and 2003, where he remained until Kameny’s death.
Following are excerpts of Clark’s Feb. 21 conversation with the Blade.
Washington Blade: Where were you living in D.C. before you moved in with Frank Kameny?
Timothy Clark: With my grandmother.
Blade: When you met him through the gay hotline he operated, did he help you come out as gay?
Clark: Yeah. When I first called him that’s what that was about. I saw that and he just guided me through that year.
Blade: Over the years that you knew Frank Kameny, did he visit any of your relatives and family members?
Clark: Yes, yes, yes. Frank went to Christmas dinners, Thanksgiving dinners, a cookout when my cousin Milton graduated from high school. Frank was a part of my family. Frank was like a grandfather to me. My grandfather passed away when I was little, but Frank was literally like a grandfather to me. We had our ups and downs, but that’s what families do. That’s what a family does. You go through things like that.
Blade: When you moved into his house, did he make it a rent or a roommate situation?
Clark: No, that’s what I want people to understand. It was a family thing. Even when I would offer things to Frank, Frank did not accept it. We just had a bond. I remember one time that I went to the Safeway. I was shopping and I got Frank – he always ate Stouffer’s for lunch and he always ate Healthy Choice for dinner. I bought Frank the groceries and I will tell you he literally went to the ATM and he was trying to give me the money back. I don’t know what it was about me but he was always like that. He never asked anything from me. I mean I was there for him. Of course, I made his breakfasts and his dinner. And I always cooked – we had – every other Sunday he would come down for dinner with me. I would cook a big dinner. Me, him and my friend Jessica, we would eat together.
Blade: You were like a family member?
Clark: That’s exactly what Frank and I were. It would always be to me as long as I’m here. It wasn’t a tenant. And well Frank even got – can I say it? [He looks at his lawyer, Glen Ackerman. Ackerman says to go ahead and say it.] In the last year or so in his life people were making accusations about me and saying things about me and saying that well, you should be charging him rent and who is this person? And then two cops came to the house and asked Frank was he being extorted. And Frank was really — Frank sat on that couch and said I have not worked all of my life for people in the community to treat him like that. I thought that was very disrespectful because the cops wanted to meet me. Actually, a guy from [D.C. Council member] David Catania’s office came over. He was a black guy my age. He came over and we talked. He didn’t even understand it but he said these things were going around and he wanted to talk to me to better understand that. But Frank was very, very upset by that. He felt as though that should not have taken place.
Blade: Did Frank make it clear to people that you were not a problem and he wanted you to be there?
Clark: Of course, of course.
Blade: Concerning the people who were raising concerns about you, some said they worried that Frank was supporting you financially with money he needed to meet his own household expenses.
Clark: How?
Blade: Some of his friends who didn’t know you said they wondered whether you were working and able to support yourself.
Clark: No, no, no, no. I will answer that. First, my work situation has nothing to do with anybody but me. Frank did not spend his money on Timothy. That’s one thing that I can tell you. When my grandmother passed, I was left money. You can call anyone in my family. I’ve always been well taken care of. I was in a relationship and still am sort of and have always been taken care of. And Frank knew everything about my relationship where everything was coming off.
And Frank did not take any money and spend it on me. I was living with Frank. I don’t have a passport to go out of town. I’m scared of flying. The only place I went was Myrtle Beach. I talked to Frank when I went there. Frank was not spending any money on me. Everything I got, I got through me — my computer, my bed, everything.
I can’t tell you where Frank’s money went. I do know — and he’s probably rolling in his grave — but I do know when I was into his family history and all that, but I know that Frank had money and things in stocks but when the stock market crashed a few years ago, that’s what he told me. As he always used to say, I’ve never been a financial whiz — things like that. I can’t tell you where his money went.
But I can tell you that it wasn’t to keep me because I do not sell myself to anybody. And that’s what that would have been if Frank was taking care of me. There was none of that going on. I have respect for myself. I may battle with my religion and being gay but one thing I would never do is sell myself to no man and no woman. I already have to answer for being gay but not that. I would never, ever use anybody that way because I would never want anyone to do that to me — never.
That’s the only thing that I get upset about. I would never sit back and use Frank, con Frank, do anything like that to him because I have respect for him because if it would not have been for Frank maybe I would have been one of those kids committing suicide because I’m gay. I would never have done that to him at all — at all.
Blade: Most people who knew Frank Kameny politically didn’t know you. Did you ever go to political events with him or was that always his thing?
Clark: His thing. I mean Frank always wanted me included, even one of the last events with the drag queens who gave him an award. He wanted me to go. I just — I’m not that kind of a person. I’m private. Now that he’s gone I feel bad that I never went to anything.
But it was things like when he had a birthday party this past year, his last birthday party, I think it was somewhere near Logan Circle somewhere and he wanted me to go. But I didn’t go. But when he came home like the next day I got a cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory. I had two bottles of champagne and I made a little dinner and Frank came down with Jessica and me and celebrated.
Frank was like, he said this is what he was looking forward to. He loved my cooking. That’s why I never went to these things. Frank always said I wasn’t gay enough, that I didn’t care about the cause. He did, but that wasn’t my thing. Frank finally got me to go to the Gay Pride.
Blade: Do you mean the gay pride parade?
Clark: Yeah, the parade. That’s never been my thing. But he finally got me to go.
Blade: Do you think some of the rumors about you started because Frank Kameny was a famous person of sorts and just like other famous people, the public wants to know about the people who are part of their lives? He was known nationally as a preeminent leader for gay rights.
Clark: Right, and so was Whitney Houston.
Blade: That’s right, and everyone wants to know what her ex-husband is doing.
Clark: Yeah, her ex-husband. Frank and I were not lovers. Let’s get that straight… Let me just say something. I think what it is — when those people wanted to meet me — I do not talk about Timothy. I can give you my mother’s telephone number right now and you can ask her things about me. I do not talk about my personal business with anybody. And I think that’s what upset a lot of them.
Blade: Your lawyer has said you will be selling Frank Kameny’s house that you’ve inherited. What are your plans after that? Once the house is sold and this probate process is completed, are you planning on staying in this area? Have you made any decisions on that?
Clark: I’m going to Charlotte. I’m getting away. I’m moving away so I have time to really grieve and really have time to think about the memories I have of Frank. I have not been able to do that.
Blade: What are some of the things you remember of Frank Kameny?
Clark: I will never forget the last time I went to Myrtle Beach and Frank said what are you getting ready to do? Frank had called me because we always talked at 12 o’clock. I said, ‘Frank I’m paying my tab. I’m at the club.’ He said, ‘Timothy, you get back to your hotel. You don’t know those people down there — drinking and galloping around.’ I said, ‘Frank, I am 35 years old.’ I said, ‘Don’t you call me long distance telling me what to do.’ And that was one of my last fun memories of Frank.
Blade: Are you saying he obviously cared for you?
Clark: Yeah, and he fed my dog for me. He called me and said the dog has been fed. You see Frank and me we really got a kick out of each other. That’s what I can talk about. I got a kick out of Frank. I loved him to pieces.
Blade: Did you mention earlier that you did things together but they were non-political going back to when you first got to know him?
Clark: It was way back and I was still living with my grandmother. My aunt knew somebody at Ticketmaster and she got four tickets to see Patti LaBelle. I said Frank we’re going to see Patti LaBelle. He said I’ve heard of her, but Frank was into Mozart. I said Frank I want you to come. I was sitting here and Frank was sitting here and my aunt was sitting there. I took him to see his first Patti LaBelle concert. And it was so amazing.
So we went to see Patti LaBelle a couple of times. He and I went to Blue’s Alley in Georgetown. Me, him and Jessica, we went to see Eartha Kitt. And then after the show you could go upstairs and Eartha Kitt was there and she said to him, nice to meet you. And he said I’m Frank Kameny, gay activist. I said, ‘Frank not here. She’s not interested in that.’ We just laughed. So he got to shake Eartha Kitt’s hand. Frank and I did things together. The only thing he would not take part in was my gospel concerts. Other than that — he didn’t believe in that — but other than that, me and Frank did a lot of things together.
Me and Frank really shared things together. I know how Frank liked his food, his coffee — full sugar cubes; fill the coffee thing right up here and all the milk. I would make his food about 12 o’clock so about 1 o’clock it was near cold — but we shared things together.
Now, like I told you, we talked about political things, too, like about Obama, how he felt about living to see Obama be president, even though I wasn’t an Obama supporter — I was for Hillary — and things like that. That was us. We would argue about things, about the marriage thing. I said you know Frank sometimes gays want too much. I said we’re getting that much but let’s just let Obama get in and do things. And he argued me down about it but that was us. We shared.
Frank would come down in the basement because I wouldn’t come upstairs — it was a mess he wouldn’t allow me to clean up. I cleaned up and he would get mad. He said it was a mess but it was his mess and he knew where things are. But he would come downstairs and we would watch TV.
Blade: Glen Ackerman, your lawyer, mentioned that you recently moved out of the house after Frank’s death. Was there some kind of problem?
Clark: I had never witnessed anything like that day when Frank passed away. It just scares the living crap out of me. And it’s like just to be there — even though the memories are good, there’s nothing bad, but it’s the fact that I found him like that. It just breaks my heart. I don’t know. It doesn’t sit right with me. It doesn’t feel like home anymore. You know what I mean? There’s no peace any more.
Blade: Your lawyer said you were also troubled over a letter that someone hand-delivered to the house. Was it an anonymous letter?
Clark: Yeah. It was pushed through the thing [mail slot on front door]. It was just right there. And that’s just horrible for anybody to say, no matter what your opinion is, to say that. It said, ‘The nigger got everything.’
Blade: Did it have your name on it?
Clark: No, but whoever it was must have known that situation what’s going on.
Maryland
Maryland’s oldest rural gay bar — and one of the last — is a log cabin in the woods
The Lodge is a Boonsboro watering hole resembling a log cabin
By SAPNA BANSIL | In the woods of a conservative Western Maryland town of fewer than 4,000 people is an unlikely landmark of state LGBTQ history.
The Lodge, a Boonsboro watering hole that resembles a log cabin, is Maryland’s oldest rural gay bar — one of a few remaining in the country, according to historians.
For about four decades, the Washington County venue has offered safety, escape and community to queer people far from large, liberal cities. Starting Friday night, The Lodge will close out Pride month with one of its biggest parties of the year: a weekend of dancing, drinking and drag in celebration of Frederick Pride, held about 20 miles away in the area’s largest city.
The rest of this article the Baltimore Banner published on June 27 can be read on its website.
Virginia
Va. court allows conversion therapy despite law banning it
Judge in June 30 ruling cited religious freedom.
In 2020, the state of Virginia had banned the practice of conversion therapy, but on Monday, a county judge ruled the ban violates the Virginia Constitution and Religious Freedom Restoration Act, allowing the therapy to start once more.
The conversion therapy ban, which can be seen in Va. Code § 54.1-2409.5 and 18VAC115-20-130.14, was overturned on June 30 as a result of two Christian counselors who argued that their — and all Virginia parents’ — constitutional right to freedom of religion had been encroached upon when the state legislature passed the ban.
A Henrico County Circuit Court judge sided with John and Janet Raymond, two Christian counselors represented by the Founding Freedoms Law Center, a conservative organization founded in 2020 following Virginia’s conversion therapy ban. Virginia’s Office of the Attorney General entered a consent decree with FFLC, saying state officials will not discipline counselors who engage in talk conversion therapy.
Conversion therapy, as the legislation described it, is considered to be “any practice or treatment that seeks to change an individual’s sexual orientation or gender identity, including efforts to change behaviors or gender expressions or to eliminate or reduce sexual or romantic attractions or feelings toward individuals of the same gender.” The ban’s reversal will now allow parents to subject their children to these practices to make them align better with their religion.
This decision comes despite advice and concern from many medical and pediatric organizations — including the American Psychiatric Association, American Psychological Association, American Association for Marriage and Family Therapy, and the American Counseling Association, to name a few — all of which denounce conversion therapy as dangerous and harmful to those subjected to it.
The American Medical Association, the largest and only national association that convenes more than 190 state and specialty medical societies, says that “these techniques are the assumption that any non-heterosexual, non-cisgender identities are mental disorders, and that sexual orientation and gender identity can and should be changed. This assumption is not based on medical and scientific evidence,” with attached data indicating people subjected to conversion therapy are more likely to develop “significant long-term harm” as a result of the therapy.
The AMA goes as far as to say that they outright “oppose the use of reparative or conversion therapy for sexual orientation or gender identity.”
FFLC has a clear goal of promoting — if not requiring — conservative ideology under the guise of religious freedom in the Virginia General Assembly. On their website, the FFLC argues that some progressive policies passed by the Assembly, like that of freedom from conversion therapy, are a violation of some Virginians’ “God-given foundational freedoms.”
The FFLC has argued that when conservative notions are not abided by in state law — especially when it involves “God’s design for male and female, the nuclear family, and parental rights” — that the law violates Virginians’ religious freedom.
A statement on the FFLC’s website calls gender dysphoria among children a “contagion” and upholds “faith-based insights” from counselors as equal — in the eyes of the law — to those who use medical-based insights. This, once again, is despite overwhelming medical evidence that indicates conversion therapy is harmful.
One study showed that 77 percent of those who received “sexual orientation change efforts,” or conversion therapy, experienced “significant harm.” This harm includes depression, anxiety, lowered self-esteem, and internalized homophobia. In addition, the study found that young LGBTQ adults with high levels of parental or caregiver rejection are “8.4 times more likely to report having attempted suicide,” with another study finding that “nearly 30 percent of individuals who underwent SOCE reported suicidal attempts.”
Virginia Senate Majority Leader Scott Surovell, a Democrat representing Fairfax, said that the overturning of the ban on religious merit disregards the entire concept of having professionally licensed counselors.
“I have no problem if somebody wants to go look at religious counseling from their priest or their minister, their rabbi, their imam — that’s perfectly fine,” Surovell told the Virginia Mercury. “When somebody goes to get therapy from somebody licensed by the commonwealth of Virginia, there’s a different set of rules applied. You can’t just say whatever you want because you have a license. That’s why we have professional standards, that’s why we have statutes.”
District of Columbia
GenOUT Chorus offers solace, strength to LGBTQ teens
Summer camp held from June 23-27
As Pride month draws to a close and Washington begins to take down its rainbow flags and WorldPride decorations, it can be easy to confine the ideas of LGBTQ liberation to June. One historic organization in Washington has been speaking out — or singing out if you will — to ensure that LGBTQ youth are allowed to explore and be themselves every month of the year.
The Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington is one of the oldest and largest LGBTQ choruses in the world. With more than 300 members and more than 40 years in the D.C. LGBTQ community, to say it is an institution would be an understatement.
Beginning in 1981, following an inspiring performance by the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus at the Kennedy Center, a group of 18 gay men — led by a “straight” woman and friend of Washington’s gay community, Marsha Pearson — created the GMCW. Since its establishment the organization has only grown in number and relevance within the city. From hosting multiple concerts a year, international equality trips, and creating a dedicated space to “inspire equality and inclusion with musical performances and education,” the GMCW is one of the cornerstone organizations in the Washington LGBTQ community.
One of the most remarkable parts of the GMCW is its youth outreach program and choir: GenOUT. The outreach ensemble specializes in providing a space for Washington’s LGBTQ and allied youth, ages 13-18, to find their voice through song and connect that voice to community. The GenOUT program has been around since 2001, and since 2015 has provided a platform for their voices to be heard — literally — making it the first LGBTQ youth chorus in the Washington area.
The Washington Blade sat down with GenOUT Director C. Paul Heins and member Ailsa Ostovitz to discuss why GenOUT, and more specifically the GenOUT summer camp, which was held from June 23-27, has become an essential space for LGBTQ youth in the D.C. area to find their voice amid less-than-supportive administration and rising anti-LGBTQ rhetoric in the nation.
“This is my 11th season with GenOUT, and also the 11th season with Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington,” Heins said when explaining how he ended up in the director role for the self-selected, no audition required youth outreach ensemble. “I was hired in August of 2014 to start GenOUT. I spent that first fall researching other choruses, figuring out the infrastructure, promoting the chorus, and building relationships with schools, organizations, and faith communities. And then we started in January of 2015 with nine brave singers and since then, we’ve had 150+ singers from 80 or more schools in the DMV participate.”
Ailsa Ostovitz, on the other hand, being in high school had not had as much experience with choirs — yet her commitment and unwavering passion for the work she — and the other performers within GenOUT provide to each other was unmistakable.
“I’ve been a part of the course since April of 2022, and that was like seventh grade— which is wild to think about,” Ostovitz said when reflecting on how long she had been a part of GenOUT. She explained how she had begun to develop a drive for filling leadership roles within GenOUT after gaining valuable experiences and education from the organization.
“This is my first year in leadership,” she added. “The rest of the years, I kind of hung back. I really wanted to — especially last season — kind of put myself in the position of a peer and think ‘What would I want from people that are supposed to represent me to the adults? What would I want out of that?’”
And with those questions in mind, Ostovitz explained she buckled down and worked hard to get to where she is now as a member of the leadership team within the GenOUT choir.
“I spent a lot of time working with my section leader, and, looking up at him and being like, ‘What are you doing now that I can do in the future?’ And so this year, I ran for leadership,” Ostovitz said. “I got section leader, and that was cool. I’ve just spent a lot of time — most of my time in this course — learning leadership skills to kind of help me in all sorts of things in life, because I like to take control of things, and I like doing stuff.”
These leadership skills are just a handful of the things that students like Ostovitz learn while participating in the program. This year’s theme was “Make Them Hear Us!: Empowering LGBTQ+ and Allied Youth Through Music, Media, and Community,” and provided multiple opportunities for GenOUT’s members to engage with new concepts, ideas, and experiences.
From field trips to mentoring opportunities to an end-of-camp performance, it becomes clear when speaking to those familiar with the GenOUT experience: it is not your traditional summer day camp.
“The title of the camp references the anthem that GMCW has sung for many years,” Heins said. “‘Make Them Hear You’ from the musical ‘Ragtime’ encourages us to share important stories — stories that honor the fights that we’ve been fighting, the rights that we have won, affirmations that we seek for every human being, and the focus on media — specifically developing young people’s understandings of the kinds of media that they can access and use to share their voice.”
The camp offers singing and dancing lessons, creative writing exercises, LGBTQ+ history lessons, and open discussions about identity — providing an outlet for students to figure out who they want to be and find their voice.
“What this camp does, I believe, is it helps foster young people’s voices and not only encourages them to speak, but to give them the skills to speak in a way that will be heard meaningfully,” Heins added. “I have noted that youth in queer choruses like GenOUT have said that singing in a chorus allows young people to express themselves more honestly and with greater passion than other forms of expression. They’ve also said that singing with others that understand you on a very deep, profound level, makes the expression much easier and more beautiful. I think that experience is what really makes this a special opportunity for young, LGBTQ and allied people.”
Ostovitz echoed Heins’s sentiment, emphasizing that the space GenOUT provides allows her to feel empowered in ways more than by creating leadership skills that will help her later in life. GenOUT has allowed for her to see the humanity and similarities LGBTQ youth all face in a straight world.
“Joining the chorus and being in this camp, it really gives people a chance to see that every person is going through the same experience you are, on a level of finding your own identity and being confident in that,” Ostovitz said. “It really, really serves a purpose by showing there are still queer people. They’re not fizzling out — young people are queer. We want to use our voices to express what we feel and how things are affecting us, and I think that using music to do that is probably one of the most powerful ways to do that.”
In addition to allowing for internal growth and honing their singing abilities, both Ostovitz and Heins pointed out the other valuable skills students learn while in the GenOUT program. Ostovitz explicitly highlighted the mentorship program GenOUT has with GMCW, and how it has helped students like her figure out their future.
“Because we are so connected with GMCW, we run a mentorship program where, if you want to explore career, identity, whatever, we can connect you with somebody from GMCW,” Ostovitz said. “You get to spend a whole semester with a person working on your voice or your career or your what you want to do in higher education. It’s not only for things related to your queer identity, but it’s also just for life. It’s really cool.”
This year’s theme, centering around media and the many ways people can share their voice, was highlighted through the camp’s field trips to two legacy media organizations — WAMU and NBC Washington — and a discussion with staff from the Washington Blade, including Publisher Lynne Brown and International News Editor Michael K. Lavers.
“GenOUT provides a chance to get to know people from all around this area, but it also connects you to older folks, It connects you to people from the past, as well as we learn about LGBTQ history,” Heins said. “I think a camp specific thing is we want young people to understand how they can share their stories beyond just talking to their friends. There are these forms of media that are out there to share your stories, to have your voices heard, and to have a sense that these media are there for everyone. It’s not just a thing for people aged 21 and over. That was something that Lynne and Michael from the Blade were sharing with; that anyone can write in a letter to the editor. It doesn’t mean it’s going to be published, but that anyone has that opportunity. And I think that’s a great way for them to say the Blade is open to you to share your voice.”
The concept that there are people who want to, or may need to hear queer voices represented is one that is not lost on Ostovitz.
“There is something Thea says that has kind of integrated into our chorus — that someone out there needed to hear you, needed to hear your voice, needed to hear your story,” Ostovitz said. “That’s something that I kind of live by in this chorus, where I’m like, ‘I believe that there is someone out there that needed to hear this song for whatever reason, whatever it did for them. And I’m hoping to learn how much more can this chorus do for not just our little community, but how much more can it do around the world or the country — especially now.”
Living in the political center of the U.S., Ostovitz explained, has impacted how she approaches her identity, her education, and the urgency of using her voice — both as a student and as a young queer person navigating an increasingly hostile national climate.
“Being so close to the political center of the country and also a student at the same time has not been the easiest thing in the world as of late,” she said. “You’re thinking a lot about ‘Oh, I wonder if this program in my school will still exist next year,’ because a lot of the funding for physics and science programs in general has been cut. So I’m fortunate enough that Maryland has been pretty good about going against this administration. And so being in this chorus gives me a second to step back from my academics and just go somewhere for the two hours of rehearsal.”
For Ostovitz, just having those two short hours a week to focus on music — without thinking about the political climate that paints her and her choir peers as nefarious for being LGBTQ — provides solace.
“Everybody else is going through the same thing as I am, but we’re all also working towards the same goal, which is acceptance and uplifting of everybody and everyone — no matter who they are,” she said. “It kind of settles you down and grounds you. And then you just make music with people, and it’s really like a stress reducer for me.”
“Is it too trite to say that that would make people feel less alone, knowing that it’s not just a DMV thing, but that there are queer people all over?” Heins asked Ostovitz.
“No, it’s not — for sure,” Ostovitz responded. “It was a bit eye-opening.”
“A lot of us are fortunate enough to have families that support us enough to trust us and help us be passionate and mean what we do with the work that we do in this chorus — because it is optional,” Ostovitz added. “It is optional to have the courage that we have to practice and commit as much as we do, and the fact that we have a whole organization backing us on that is pretty cool.”
“We often say that we sing for those who can’t sing in a chorus like ours,” Heins said. “We sing for people who don’t have the freedom or the option to live their authentic lives. I think that’s very powerful.”
“It’s a very unique experience to be surrounded by so many people that get it,” Ostovitz said. “It’s a very joyful experience when we perform our big shows at the Lincoln Theater, being part of that production is also a very unique experience. So I think everything about this chorus is very joyfully unique.”
“I feel very proud, and I feel very inspired,” Heins said. “I feel inspired by the young voices. I feel a sense of inspiration in my own music-making, when I am able to take a piece from its very beginning all the way to the stage in a polished form. And I feel that sense of pride in knowing that I’ve helped this group of young people develop their confidence to do really amazing things.”
“GenOUT sang 22 times last year, which for any chorus is a big deal, but for a youth chorus coming from thither and yon, it is really a big deal,” Heins added. “I’m just really inspired and proud, and know that when I am in a nursing home somewhere and these folks are still out working and I know the country will be in good hands.”
UN Human Rights Council extends LGBTQ rights expert’s mandate
Maryland’s oldest rural gay bar — and one of the last — is a log cabin in the woods
USAID’s demise: America’s global betrayal of trust with LGBTQ people
Manchester is vibrant tapestry of culture, history, and Pride
Embracing the chaos can be part of the fun
Supreme Court to consider bans on trans athletes in school sports
Celebrate the Fourth of July the gay way!
Va. court allows conversion therapy despite law banning it
Doug Spearman takes his chance
