Arts & Entertainment
Queery: Jerame Davis
The Stonewall Democrats director answers 20 gay questions
Jerame Davis, executive director of National Stonewall Democrats, has high hopes for November.
“I think after the Olympics are over and when the conventions kick off and people really start tuning in in earnest, I think the more people get to know Mitt Romney, the more people are going to get turned off,” he says. “He can’t hold a consistent position on any issue.”
Davis — his first name is pronounced “Jeremy,” says, “That’s very troubling, especially for the LGBT community.”
But haven’t Obama’s views — such as his recent change of position on same-sex marriage — changed perhaps even more starkly?
“Any politician will have some inconsistencies,” Davis says. “With Romney, he’s just craven. It’s totally for political gain without any sort of conviction. There’s nothing driving him except his desire for public office.”
Davis and his partner of 14 years, blogger Bil Browning of Bilerico, moved to Washington two years ago for Davis to accept a position — though not the one he’s in now — with the Stonewall Democrats. He’d been active with the group in his native Indiana where he worked for years as a political and IT consultant, and says when the opportunity became available to work in D.C., he couldn’t resist.
“The intersection of politics and LGBT organizing is really kind of perfect for me,” he says. “To merge those both into the activism I do is a super bonus.”
Davis, 37, has an 18-year-old daughter, Paige, born when he was just 18, who lives with her mother in Indiana, though she lived with he and Browning for eight years.
Davis lives in Adams Morgan and enjoys reading, tinkering with technology and playing video games in his free time.
“There’s something about blowing up virtual bad guys that calms my nerves,” he says.
How long have you been out and who was the hardest person to tell?
I came out at 21. The hardest person to tell was my daughter’s mother, but not for the reason you might think. A few years prior, just before my daughter was born, she had been the first person in my life to question my sexuality and I didn’t want to have to admit she had been right. She still claims she has better gaydar than me.
Who’s your LGBT hero?
As a geek, I have to say Alan Turing. Without Turing to break the German codes, the outcome of WWII could have been a lot different. Despite this fact, he was prosecuted for his homosexuality and chemically castrated by the British government he had served faithfully all his life. Only this year has parliament introduced a bill to pardon Turing and finally restore honor to his name.
What’s Washington’s best nightspot, past or present?
I really don’t go out much, but I prefer JR.’s or the Eagle over Town or Cobalt. You can usually find me at 9:30 club when Blowoff is in town.
Describe your dream wedding.
Simple. Low-key. I think anniversaries are far more important than weddings.
What non-LGBT issue are you most passionate about?
Equal and free access to the Internet. Some folks call this net neutrality, but it’s more than just that single issue. Corporations are finding ways to circumvent existing law while still pressing hard in Congress for the right to completely lock out competing content providers.
What historical outcome would you change?
The 2000 election. Our economy, our foreign policy and so many other things would be radically different if we could wipe the slate clean from the George W. Bush presidency.
What’s been the most memorable pop culture moment of your lifetime?
I’m 37 years old. There have been way too many to name just one. Even in the context of strictly LGBT pop culture moments, how do you pick just one?
On what do you insist?
Honesty. It’s the basis for any relationship with another person.
What was your last Facebook post or Tweet?
“Stonewall Democrats have moved offices! Our new digs are fabulous — thanks Progressive Congress for the space and all you do to make America a better place.”
If your life were a book, what would the title be?
“Against All Odds”
If science discovered a way to change sexual orientation, what would you do?
Let’s hope it never does. What a terrible idea.
What do you believe in beyond the physical world?
As an atheist firmly grounded in scientific learning and reasoning, I don’t believe there is anything beyond the physical world, but I am willing to be proven wrong.
What’s your advice for LGBT movement leaders?
As a current “LGBT movement leader,” I think I’ll skip this question for now.
What would you walk across hot coals for?
A lot of things. Hot coals actually aren’t that big a deal.
What LGBT stereotype annoys you most?
The meme that all trans people are crazy is probably the most insidious because it’s as pervasive in the LGBT community as it is outside it.
What’s your favorite LGBT movie?
“Milk.” We don’t know enough of our history and Harvey’s legacy is something every person in America should know.
What’s the most overrated social custom?
The position of the toilet seat. Is it really so much work to move it into the position you need when you use the bathroom?
What trophy or prize do you most covet?
Nothing. Glory and accolades are great, but they aren’t what drive me.
What do you wish you’d known at 18?
That being out and proud would change my life in such a positive and profound way.
Why Washington?
Washington was always in my top five cities to live in after escaping the Midwest, but it was taking a job at National Stonewall Democrats that finally brought me to our nation’s capital.
Just as humans have always had meals, queer humans, too, have enjoyed meals. Yet what is it that makes “queer food” distinct?
At the beginning of May in Montreal, the Queer Food Conference 2026 sought not to answer that question, but to further interrogate it. The conference united scholars, activists, artists, journalists, farmers, chefs, and other food industry professionals for three days of panels, workshops, discussions, and, yes, meals, in an inclusive, thoughtful, contemplative-yet-whimsical environment, taking a comprehensive view of the landscape of queer food.
The two organizers – Professor Alex Ketchum, at the Institute for Gender, Sexuality, and Feminist Studies of McGill University in Montreal, and Professor Megan Elias, Director of Food Studies & Gastronomy at Boston University – met in 2022 when Elias acted as a peer reviewer for Ketchum’s second book, “Ingredients for a Revolution,” a wide-ranging history of more than 230 feminist and lesbian-feminist restaurants, cafes, and coffeehouses from 1972 to the present in the US.
Elias, taken by the book and its exploration, invited Ketchum to speak at one of Elias’s courses, at which pastries were served and feminist bread making was baked into conversation. Elias floated the idea of co-organizing a queer food conference – and a hot 24 hours later, Ketchum said yes, with plans sketched out, from grants to topics to speakers. In parallel, the duo started to conceptualize “Queers at the Table,” a book based on their work (published last year).
The conference, the book, the research: their work is, in part, grounded in the question: What is queer food? True to queer theory, each has her own nuanced response as drivers of their research, challenging the traditional and looking beyond norms of food studies. Ketchum’s view is that it is grounded on food by and for the queer community, in specific histories, and especially in the labor behind the food. Elias posits that queer food is at the intersection of queerness and culinary studies, beyond gender norms and binaries, back to the societal basics of queer food as part of queer humans always having meals. “Queer food destabilizes assumptions about food, gender and sexuality, making space for a wider range of relationships to food,” she says.
The academics’ professed enthusiasm, however, rarely reached beyond small circles.
“I regularly attended big food studies conferences, but almost never saw presentations about gender identity beyond women’s roles,” says Elias about her prior work, and when her students would ask for additional literature about sexuality and food, results had been sparse. Ketchum echoed this gap: When she was in graduate studies, she received hesitation from leadership about her chosen field of study. By 2024, however, queer food as an area of study and practice had grown, whether in popular culture or well as in publishing, setting the stage for the first Queer Food Conference in 2024 in Boston. Their aim at that even was to launch the subfield of queer food studies into the mainstream, so that fellow academics, students, and those interested in the space could convene, “creating space for others to build,” says Ketchum. “People were enthusiastic.”
Once Ketchum and Elias published “Queers at the Table” in 2025 (notably, gay author John Birdsall also published a book examining queer identity through food last year, “What Is Queer Food?”), they laid the foundation for the 2026 conference in Montreal. This edition was an “embodied” conference, inclusive of various ontologies in queer food studies: theory, labor, art, taste, an interdisciplinary, expansive grounding.
Topics ranged from cookbooks and influencers to farming and land movements, bars and cafes, brewing and baking, history and sociology, writing and printmaking, healthcare and community, and centering marginalized – especially trans – voices.
Naturally, food was centered. The conference’s keynotes were not academics, but the chefs themselves who created the food with their own hands that attendees ate over the three days. “Not to disregard a pure academic space,” says Ketchum, “but to not have food in a room when we talk about food would be wild.”
Jackson Tucker, a Distinguished Graduate Fellow at the University of Delaware, said that “What I found [at the conference] was a genuinely diverse gathering: scholars who did grounded social research but also practitioners, organizers, and people who had never thought about an academic conference in their lives and didn’t need to. That mix is the soul of this whole project for me. Without the people who are out in the world doing queer food, the conference wouldn’t exist.”
Ketchum – her home being Montreal – also worked to fold in community-driven events so that attendees could get a taste of queer food in the city outside of classroom walls; for example, attendees participated in a collaborative evening pizza-making class at a queer-owned pizzeria.
The interdisciplinary nature of the conference led to sharing of research, thoughts, activities, and planning. There was a “value of bringing people together of different backgrounds, which leads to richer discussion,” she says.
Elias picked up on this theme: “I saw people bonding and connecting and believing in Queer Food Studies,” – one of the central goals that Ketchum noted, further legitimizing a nascent field. As both professors continue their research and leadership, they envision a continued layering of centering the queer experience and community through the shared value and study of food.
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Gay Men’s Chorus celebrates 45 years at annual gala
‘Sapphire & Sparkle’ Spring Affair held at the Ritz Carlton
The Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington held the annual Spring Affair gala at the Ritz Carlton Washington, D.C. on Saturday. The theme for this year’s fete was “Sapphire & Sparkle.” The chorus celebrated 45 years in D.C. with musical performances, food, entertainment, and an awards ceremony.
Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington Executive Director Justin Fyala and Artistic Director Thea Kano gave welcoming speeches. Opening remarks were delivered by Spring Affair co-chairs Tracy Barlow and Tomeika Bowden. Uproariously funny comedian Murray Hill performed a stand-up set and served as the emcee.
There were performances by Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington groups Potomac Fever, 17th Street Dance, the Rock Creek Singers, Seasons of Love, and the GenOUT Youth Chorus.

Anjali Murthy, a member of the chorus and a graduate of the GenOUT Youth Chorus, addressed the attendees of the gala.
“The LGBTQ+ community isn’t bound by blood ties: we are brought together by shared experience,” Murthy said. “Being Gen Z, I grew up with Ellen [DeGeneres] telling me through the TV screen that it gets better: that one day, it’ll all be okay. The sentiment isn’t wrong, but it’s passive. What I’ve learned from GMCW is that our future is something we practice together. It exists because people like you continue to show up for it, to believe in the possibilities of what we’re still becoming”
The event concluded with the presentation of the annual Harmony Awards. This year’s awardees included local drag artist and activist Tara Hoot, the human rights organization Rainbow Railroad as well as Rocky Mountain Arts Association Executive Director, Dr. Chipper Dean.
(Washington Blade photos and videos by Michael Key)































Equality Prince William Pride was held at the Harris Pavilion in Manassas, Va. on Saturday, May 16.
(Washington Blade photos by Landon Shackelford)
















