Opinions
Creating Change protests not anti-Semitic
Allegation stifles debate, gives cover to Israel
Protesters on Jan. 23, 2016, gather outside reception at the National LGBTQ Task Force’s annual Creating Change Conference in Chicago that was to have featured two LGBT rights advocates from Israel. (Photo courtesy of Andy Thayer/Gay Liberation Network)
Last week, the National LGBTQ Task Force held its annual Creating Change conference in Chicago. The Task Force, established in 1973, set out to build a future where everyone is free to be themselves in every aspect of their lives,” across a variety of issues including employment, healthcare, and basic human rights.
According to the conference program, Rea Carey, executive director of the Task Force, welcomed participants with these words: “That’s why we are here this week: to tear down ALL the barriers we face between us and true liberation — and to support and lift-up one another in spirit, camaraderie and love.” (Emphasis their own).
However, one particular event on Jan. 22 put these noble words to the test. A session with A Wider Bridge, a pro-Israeli LGBT organization, was challenged by protesters and cancelled over the organization’s cooperation with the Israeli government whose policies violate the human rights of Palestinians living under occupation. The cancellation of the event raised eyebrows, prompting a barrage of angry reactions and accusations of anti-Semitism against the protesters and conference organizers. For instance, Slate Magazine’s LGBTQ blogger ran the headline “The LGBTQ Left Has an Anti-Semitism Problem,” an OUT magazine headline notes that the protests were “pure anti-Semitism,” and 90 LGBTQ activists signed a statement to Carey describing the protests as “anti-Semitic” and “dangerous,” posing the following question: “where do we as a progressive social movement go from here?” A cursory search of news surrounding the event brings up 80+ articles of similar views. For her part, Carey released a “crystal clear” statement: “the National LGBTQ Task Force wholeheartedly condemns anti-Semitism and anti-Semitic statements made at any Task Force event including our Creating Change Conference,” promising a review of the event and improvements to cope with “the challenges of a growing attendance.”
The Blade’s own Mr. Kevin Naff shared his opinion in an account of his own experience with A Wider Bridge, Israel, and Palestine. Yet, despite his coolheaded appeal to ensure that all voices should be heard, including critical ones, Mr. Naff reaches a similar conclusion: the protests were offensive and anti-Semitic.
Were they?
I do not believe so. Instead, I believe the repeated deployment of anti-Semitism against those who criticize Israel and the wide arm of organizations it works with is both unsophisticated and demeaning. In fact, the charge of anti-Semitism is merely an iteration of a larger force that has dominated the Israeli-Palestinian conversation in the U.S. It’s the kind of force that unleashes itself almost by default at any hint of strongly grounded criticism of Israel. It’s called civility. As Steven Salaita puts it in his work, Uncivil Rites, civility is a regime that always has difficulty accommodating systematic critiques, let alone expression of those critiques in unfashionable manners. Of course, the protestors were disruptive, uncomfortable perhaps, and so is every bit of the goals the Task Force seeks to accomplish, or any “progressive” civil rights movement for that matter. Change, at least the effective kind, does not come with comfort. If that were case, then the history we know about many civil rights movements in this country and around the world would be a lie.
Perhaps one particular chant at the protests drove such strong disapproval, to the tune of challenging a deeply rooted and accomplished organization: “Palestine will be free from the river to the sea.” A superficial reading would invariably cause anyone who hears it to believe it means the destruction of Israel. Yet, most of the reactions fail to understand that the chant is equally applicable to an increasingly embraced idea: the one State solution, where freedom should indeed reign from the river to the see. Alternatively, as U.S. Ambassador to Israel put it, we are left with a single state with two standards of adherence to the rule of law, one favorable to Israelis and one unfavorable to Palestinians.
Not only is the charge of anti-Semitism unsophisticated and incapable of grappling with the realities of the Israeli occupation of Palestine, it also does far greater harm than good. Nearly all the opinions assumed their views with the understanding that the session with A Wider Bridge should have been permitted to take place. I do too. But, unlike those opinions, mine is a view that does not find it necessary or appropriate to say that silencing the session is anti-Semitic. Rather, permitting it to take place would only be a commitment to the principles and ideals of the Task Force and Creating Change – something that is neither Semitic nor anti-Semitic.
The irony is that opinions rallying around anti-Semitism practically commit the same mistake: silencing and discrediting the protestors. In doing so, the harm is twofold. The other side is almost instantly excluded from the conversation, marked as undesirable or uninvited, and therefore it also stifles the conversation. For instance, in an exchange on Facebook, one friend commented on Mr. Naff’s opinion, “I stopped [reading] at the description of the protest as anti-Semitic and of “Palestine will be free from the river to the sea” as a “genocidal chant [that] is an overt call for the destruction of Israel.”
Finally, one illegal Israeli settler recently shared his thoughts on the matter, “there’s still anti-Semitism in America,” speaking about country clubs and neighborhoods in Chicago that exclude Jews. Yet, one rarely hears about this sort of anti-Semitism. It seems as though nowadays anti-Semitism only dominates the headlines in the Israeli-Palestinian context, especially when Israeli policies are criticized.
As the progressive movement works to recover from this episode, it would be wise to understand that scapegoating a tremendously painful past, one where anti-Semitism wreaked havoc and unspeakable horrors, would only reinforce the idea that all voices should be heard as long as they conform to the rules of civility. The issue is not about the Task Force’s ability to handle growing attendance; rather it’s about what it, and the progressive movement at large, will do when challenged by an increasingly knowledgeable audience about Israel’s human rights violations. After all, nearly a quarter-century of peace negotiations grounded in civility has nothing to show but stagnation or regressive change at best, surely not a change genuinely committed to the human rights of all.
Commentary
He is 16 and sitting in a Cuban prison
Jonathan David Muir Burgos arrested after participating in anti-government protests
Jonathan David Muir Burgos is 16-years-old, and that fact alone should force the world to stop and pay attention. He is not an armed criminal, nor a violent extremist, nor someone accused of harming others. He is a Cuban teenager who ended up behind bars after joining recent protests in the city of Morón, in the province of Ciego de Ávila, demonstrations born out of exhaustion, desperation, and the growing collapse of daily life across the island.
Those protests did not emerge from privilege or political theater. They erupted after prolonged blackouts, food shortages, lack of drinking water, unbearable heat, and a level of public frustration that continues to deepen inside Cuba. People took to the streets because ordinary life itself has become increasingly unbearable. Families are surviving for hours and sometimes days without electricity. Parents struggle to find food. Entire communities live trapped between scarcity and silence.
Jonathan became part of that reality.
And today, he is sitting inside a Cuban prison.
The World Health Organization defines adolescence as the stage between approximately 10 and 19 years of age, a period marked by emotional, psychological, and physical development. That matters deeply here because Jonathan is not simply a “young protester.” He is a minor. A teenager still navigating the fragile years in which identity, emotional stability, and personal growth are being formed.
Yet the Cuban government chose to place him inside a high-security prison alongside adults.
There is something profoundly disturbing about a political system willing to expose a 16-year-old boy to the psychological brutality of prison life simply because he exercised the right to protest. A prison is never only walls and bars. It is fear, humiliation, emotional pressure, intimidation, and uncertainty. For a teenager surrounded by adult inmates, those dangers become even more alarming.
The situation becomes even more serious because Jonathan reportedly suffers from severe dyshidrosis and has previously experienced dangerous bacterial infections affecting his health. His condition requires proper medical care, hygiene, and adequate treatment, precisely the kind of stability that is difficult to guarantee inside the Cuban prison system.
Behind this story there is also a family living through a kind of pain impossible to fully describe.
Jonathan is the son of a Cuban evangelical pastor. Behind the headlines there is a mother wondering how her child is sleeping at night inside a prison cell. There is a father trying to hold onto faith while imagining the emotional and physical risks his teenage son may be facing behind bars. Faith does not erase fear. Faith does not prevent parents from trembling when their child is imprisoned.
And this is where another painful contradiction emerges.
While a Cuban pastor watches his son remain incarcerated, there are still political and religious voices outside Cuba romanticizing the Cuban regime from a safe distance. There are people who speak passionately about justice while remaining silent about political prisoners, repression, censorship, and now even the imprisonment of adolescents.
That silence matters.
Because silence protects systems that normalize abuse.
For too long, parts of the international community have spoken about Cuba through ideological nostalgia while refusing to confront the human cost paid by ordinary Cubans. The reality is not romantic. The reality is families surviving in darkness, young people fleeing the country in massive numbers, parents struggling to feed their children, and now a 16-year-old boy sitting inside a prison after joining a protest born from desperation.
No government has the moral right to destroy the emotional and psychological well-being of a teenager for exercising freedom of expression. No ideology should stand above human dignity. And no institution that claims to defend justice should remain indifferent while a child becomes a political prisoner.
Jonathan David Muir Burgos should not be in prison.
A 16-year-old boy should not have to pay for protest with his freedom.
Commentary
Celebrate Pride in Lost River, a slice of rural heaven
West Virginia LGBTQ getaway hosts events June 12-14
“Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong, West Virginia …” Those immortal lyrics describe one of the best-kept secrets for LGBTQ Washingtonians: Lost River, W.Va.
Less than 2.5 hours from the D.C. metro area, Lost River, in Hardy County, W.Va., is a haven for LGBTQ Mountaineers and our nearby city neighbors. From queer-owned businesses and artwork to a vibrant community of LGBTQ residents, Lost River has been a destination for LGBTQ visitors seeking a mountain getaway for nearly 50 years. For some, our rural community has become home for those who want to trade city life for country living.
Because Lost River welcomes all, we celebrate Pride each year in our slice of heaven.
Lost River Pride Weekend will be held June 12–14, the weekend prior to Capital Pride. If you haven’t been, our Pride is a little different from the urban Pride events most people are used to. In Lost River, forget the multinational corporate sponsors. Instead, think about local talent, grassroots community organizations, and our version of patriotism on full display. Most of all, we welcome people from all walks of life to live authentically as themselves, regardless of where they come from, how they think, or how they love. We truly welcome everyone.
Coincidentally, Lost River Pride Weekend is being held on President Trump’s birthday weekend, including a variety of traffic-jamming events in the D.C. area and the upcoming fight on the White House lawn. Why not come visit Lost River for the day or the weekend (we have some wonderful places to stay) and get a taste of West Virginia living?
While our town has only about 500 people at any given time, we swell to over twice that during Pride weekend. Friday evening includes an intimate cabaret at the Inn at Lost River (whose general store is on the National Register of Historic Places). Our centerpiece, the Lost River Pride Festival, is hosted on Saturday at the local farmers market, followed by an afternoon drag pool performance and an evening performance by the world-renowned Tom Goss at the Guesthouse Lost River. Finally, we finish the weekend with a closing brunch at the Inn to reaffirm our Pride. In between events and throughout the weekend, visitors and locals indulge in local art, restaurants, and more.
We recognize that West Virginia isn’t always seen as welcoming to LGBTQ people. State law does not protect against discrimination based on sexual orientation or gender identity, and cultural stereotypes remain persistent. Additionally, trans girls are prohibited from participating in sports of their affirmed gender in schools. In a state considered one of the most conservative, it can be difficult to see progress.
However, our community exists to prove that progress is possible. In fact, due to the work of statewide groups such as Fairness WV, 21 municipalities have passed local ordinances prohibiting discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity, covering more than 13 percent of the West Virginian population. Last year, Lost River Pride sponsored the first-ever equal cash prize for the nonbinary category of the Lost River Classic, a local bike race held annually. There is hope in every corner of our community.
Recently, Lost River Pride was the only West Virginia contingent in the 2025 World Pride Parade, which was held during Capital Pride Weekend. I will always remember our rugged truck coming down 14th Street to a sea of diverse, friendly faces, while waving our state flag and hearing many voices singing “Country Roads” in every remix available (trust me, there are many).
Lost River Pride is one of only a handful of Pride organizations in West Virginia and one of the few structured as a nonprofit. We sponsor the only LGBTQ scholarship in Eastern West Virginia for a graduating senior from a local high school. Moreover, we provide monthly community programming and make frequent donations to local allied nonprofits, including the fire department, food pantry, and schools.
I encourage you to attend Lost River Pride Weekend, especially this year’s Lost River Pride Festival on Saturday, June 13, from 12-4 p.m., at the Lost River Farmers Market (1089 Mill Gap Road, Lost City, W.Va. 26810). Feel free to reach us at [email protected] or visit our website at lostriverpride.org for more information.
Tim Savoy is president of the board of directors of Lost River Pride.
Opinions
Protection should mean protection
Disbelief as court modifies protective order against Pasha
There is a particular kind of disbelief that Black queer women know intimately. It is not always explicit. It shows up in hesitation, in “both sides” framing, and in systems that require us to prove, again and again, that we are worthy of safety.
We see that disbelief happening now with the temporary protection order (TPO) involving an individual, D. Pasha. He is accused of repeatedly harassing staff, board members, and volunteers at the Capital Pride Alliance, which led the organization to ask the court for protection.
The Capital Pride Alliance did not seek this order lightly. They spent over a year documenting his harassment, and several witnesses gave almost two hours of testimony about a pattern of behavior that caused real fear. The organization also spent months working out how to legally protect its staff, volunteers, board, and contractors from this individual.
At first, the Court agreed and issued a stay-away order that included CPA’s office and other locations, setting a clear boundary to protect staff, volunteers, and community members.
But that protection did not last.
After the order was issued, Pasha spoke with a reporter from the Washington Blade and learned that CPA shares office space with the DC LGBTQ Center. It is important to note that he didn’t know this detail before. He then sought an emergency hearing, claiming he needed access to “vital services” from the CPA and DC LGBTQ Center shared offices.
The Court granted it, allowing access with a 24-hour notice to CPA. According to the Court, the modification was based on Mr. Pasha’s claim that denying him entry to the DC Center would prevent him from accessing essential support services provided there. Although CPA objected and highlighted the lack of recent service usage and the availability of alternatives, the Court determined that his stated need for services warranted an exception to the stay-away order.
Let’s be clear about what this means.
There is no record of him accessing services or being at the DC LGBTQ Center in over a year. Numerous organizations across DC provide the same services he cited: food, clothing, computers, Wi-Fi, without placing him in proximity to the people who testified against him.
And yet, the Court modified the order to allow exactly that.
Then it escalated. Following the modification, he sent more than 20 emails and text messages in attempts to gain access to our office space, triggering another emergency hearing. At that second emergency hearing, the court maintained its previous decision, allowing Mr. Pasha continued access to the location.
This is not a technicality. This is a failure of real protection.
The outcome was shaped not just in the courtroom, but in how it was presented afterward.
Recent coverage centered the acceptance of a less restrictive order, while giving the person at the center of this case a platform to define the narrative in his own words. He was described as an LGBTQ activist, quoted at length, and presented with his name, voice, and image, including statements like “I am happy with what we have accomplished so far,” “even if I lose this case, I am glad that I spoke up,” and that “the truth will come out.”
That framing does not exist in a vacuum. It omits important context about the pattern of conduct that led to this case, including the history and the events that followed the Court’s initial order. It also gives weight to claims about access to services that are not reflected in actual usage.
At the same time, the hours of testimony describing a pattern of conduct that caused fear, serious alarm, and emotional distress are reduced to a small part of the story. The individuals who came forward are largely unnamed, unseen, and unheard. The record that was built in court is condensed, while his narrative is expanded.
When one side is given visibility, voice, and narrative, and the other is reduced to summary, that is not balance. It is distortion.
We also need to be honest about who is being asked to bear the consequences of that failure.
Two Black queer women testified. They followed the process. They showed up, told the truth, and trusted the system to do what it is designed to do: protect them.
Instead, the system created a pathway back to proximity, back to fear.
That is not a neutral outcome. It is a choice about whose safety matters most and whose safety can be compromised.
This is not an isolated incident. It reflects a broader pattern in how systems fail Black women, survivors, and LGBTQ+ people, especially at the intersections of those identities.
According to the Human Rights Campaign, data shows that over 60% of bisexual women and more than 40% of lesbian women experience physical violence or stalking.
Violence does not start with homicide. It starts with being dismissed, with being minimized, and with systems that do not act fairly or quickly when harm is reported.
It starts when people question the credibility of Black queer women.
When access is granted to those who cause fear, instead of protection being fully extended to those who experience it.
And it continues when we treat these outcomes as unfortunate, rather than unacceptable.
Capital Pride Alliance believes in access. We invest in it. We help sustain the very services being cited in this case. But access cannot come at the expense of safety, especially when alternatives exist, and risk is known.
The question here is not complicated: what does protection actually mean, and who deserves it?
If a court acknowledges harm but still allows proximity, is that protection?
If Black queer women testify and are still placed within reach of the person they testified against, what message does that send?
We cannot keep calling these systems fair if they keep putting the same people at risk.
Courts need to think about safety in a broader sense, one that reflects real life rather than just following procedures. This means looking at not only direct threats, but also ongoing harassment, intimidation, and the real fear survivors feel when they must share space with someone who has harmed them.
Real changes could include ensuring stay-away orders are enforced even in shared spaces, working with community groups to offer alternative ways to access services, and asking survivors about their safety needs before changing protection orders. Courts should also get training on the experiences of Black queer women and LGBTQ+ survivors, so their voices and realities are at the center of decisions.
Our community needs to work toward real safety and protection. Because visibility without safety is not liberation. Protection that can be so easily undone is not protection at all.
May 28 is LGBTQ+ Domestic Violence Awareness Day.
#SeenAndBelieved is a call to action: recognize the harm, trust survivors, and create systems that truly protect them.
June Crenshaw is COO of the Capital Pride Alliance.
Blade Foundation awards 9th journalism fellowship to AU student
Jason Collins dies at 47
Polish government to recognize same-sex marriages from EU countries
America’s broken pipeline of mental healthcare for trans youth
GLAA releases ratings for 18 candidates running for D.C. mayor, Council, AG
Learn more about queer love
Comings & Goings
New Hungarian prime minister takes office
DJ Chanel Santini is bringing the heat and some gender-fluid diversity to XBIZ Miami
