Opinions
Army enters the 21st century
Fanning confirmation highlights changing times
Last Sundayās New York Times editorial section was interesting. Reading has-been columnist Maureen Dowd trash Hillary Clinton, maybe for the 100th time, letting her apparent frustration and jealousy over Hillaryās success show was trivial and annoying.
There was, however, an exciting and important editorial that was the real news of the week in which history was made. The Times only had half the story in an editorial headline most likely to embarrass them in the future when they look back on it. It read āAn Openly Gay Man Now Runs the Army.ā Maybe one day soon the Times will realize if they wanted to make a real point the headline would have been: āMost Qualified Man Confirmed to Run the Armyā and then could have added āWho Also Happens to Be Gay.ā
It must be a dream of Eric Fanningās one day to be written about without the word āgayā in front of his name as if it was actually his first name. One day they will simply write Eric Fanning, brilliant and qualified Secretary of the Army, was the first man to serve in a leadership capacity in three branches of the military.
Eric has already had an illustrious career. He was on the staff of the House Armed Services Committee and served in two positions for the president, first as a special assistant in the Immediate Office of the Secretary of Defense and then as associate director of political affairs in the White House.
His career has included working at the Business Executives for National Security, a D.C.-based think-tank and at Robinson, Lerer & Montgomery, a strategic communications firm in New York. At the Department of Defense he served as deputy undersecretary and deputy chief management officer for the Department of the Navy and deputy director of the Commission on the Prevention of Weapons of Mass Destruction Proliferation and Terrorism.
President Obama nominated him and he was confirmed as Under Secretary of the Air Force in 2013. He then became Acting Secretary of the Air Force when Michael Donley resigned, serving for six months. His exemplary career continued and President Obama nominated him to be Secretary of the Army. On May 17, after eight months of waiting, the Senate confirmed him.
One of his first acts as secretary was to participate in the West Point graduation this past Saturday. I can only imagine what went through his mind that day. According to the New York Daily News, the speaker, Vice President Joe Biden said, āgreater diversity, including more women and openly gay soldiers, will strengthen the country’s armed forces. Having men and women together in the battlefield is an incredible asset, particularly when they’re asked to lead teams in parts of the world with fundamentally different expectations and norms.” They went on to report, āMore than 950 cadets received their degrees and commissions as second lieutenants. Among them were the first seven women to be commissioned into combat divisions since combat restrictions for them were lifted.ā Then the vice president in a salute to class president Eugene “E.J.” Coleman who had come out as gay said, āBefore the repeal of the military’s āDon’t Ask, Don’t Tellā policy in 2010, E.J. would have been discharged from the Army, and we would have lost an incredible talent. Thanks for your courage, E.J., and I expect we’re going to hear big things from you, pal.” So at West Point Saturday morning Fanning saw one of his troops, the newly minted second Lieutenant Coleman, a young African-American gay man from Virginia, lead his graduating class. Both these men make our country and the LGBT community proud.
But there was a downer this week that shows us vigilance is still needed. The San Diego Gay Men’s Chorus was heckled off stage and not allowed to sing at a San Diego Padres baseball game. The team issued the following apology: āThis evening during the pre-game ceremony a mistake was made in the Petco Park control room that prevented the San Diego Gay Menās Chorus from performing the National Anthem as scheduled. We apologize to anyone in the ball park who this may have offended, and have reached out to the chorus to express our deep regret for the error.ā
Clearly they miss the point. They should be apologizing to all Americans who should be offended by what happened.
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBT rights and Democratic Party activist. He writes regularly for the Blade.
Commentary
Sexting with younger guy has me asking: How queer am I?
Reflections on LGBTQ life in 2024
Once upon a time, not all that long ago, a man sexted another man.
There were words. There were pictures. There were filthy questions and even filthier responses. You know, the way a good sexting convo ought to be, for those who dabble.
One man was 33. The other, 24. And while it comes as no shock that I was the 33-year-old, it may be more surprising to learn it was the 24-year-old who grabbed the reins.
What kinks you into? he asked.
Shit ā I didnāt know. I barely even bottomed before the pandemic, and now I had to know my kinks?
Iām open, I replied, evasively. You?
His response left me coughing: āLove musk sweat ws public group rough bb verbal bate edge roleplay and very open-minded.ā
Now Iām no prude (in fact, many would call me a downright whore) but this young man articulating his kinks and fetishes in such detail blew my mind. When did he learn what he liked? At 24, all I wanted was to top a guy and leave with as little communication or attachment as possible. At 33, I wasnāt sure what a few of the items he listed even meant.
Perhaps I shouldnāt be surprised when young men ā and the younger generation across the LGBTQ spectrum in general ā have already figured out their sexual interests. I arrived in D.C. from Idaho in 2008 as a fresh-faced 18-year-old; I came out three years later in 2011. Attitudes toward queerness have shifted substantially since then, and these days it is undeniably easier for younger people to explore their sexual and gender identities (which, by the way, is fantastic).
But this conversation left me wondering: What do I like? I havenāt sought out that many new sexual experiences, and while fetishes, kinks, and sexual desires can seem trivial, theyāre inextricably intertwined with gender and relationships. If I canāt articulate what I like in the sack (or in public, if I dare), then how do I know what Iām seeking from a long-term partner, or if thatās even what I want?
As soon as I came out, I thought my job was done. All I needed after that was to snatch up a cutie and settle down. Instead, my identity centered on building my career in politics, where sexual openness isnāt as appreciated. I, like many D.C. queers around me, moved here bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to change the world for good.
Then came a tough lesson: Just because I wanted to improve the world didnāt mean people wanted me to. I was inexplicably fired from not one job but two, and suddenly the do-gooder in me grew jaded. The career I dedicated years to was suddenly ripped from my hands, and I became so disillusioned I didnāt even want it back. Oh, and the cherry on top: My boyfriend dumped me two days later.
Once everything unraveled, I wondered: Was the me of the past the me I truly wanted? Or was I reflecting back what I thought everyone wanted me to be?
Well, a few major meltdowns and an extended slut phase later, my life couldnāt be more different. I now work at a new gay bar in town to support myself, and Iāve given myself space to pursue the arts. This former straight-laced, type-A, tightly wound gay abandoned the safe track and he couldnāt be more terrified. He also couldnāt be more excited.
But losing my old career also left an existential-sized hole in my identity. So, as I sexted this 24-year-old with newfound awareness of my limitations, I decided this must change.
How? As I said, I work at a gay bar in one of the queerest cities in America. Now more than ever Iām surrounded by those who are LGBTQ and every shade in between. Why not learn from those around me, whether younger, older, or around the same age, but whose experiences are no less queer? Why not carve out time to have in-depth discussions and discover what the possibilities are?
If being queer means to go against the established norms of gender and sexuality, then thereās still plenty of territory for me to explore. No longer can ābottomā or ātopā be my only options.
So, the purpose of this column ā aptly titled Queer Quest ā is to capture my exploration of queer identity. Itās not to teach you as much as it is to teach myself, and you can either learn alongside me or simply be entertained. At the very least, Iāll have a series of portraits on what itās like to be queer in the mid 2020s. At most, Iāll have a better understanding of who I am as a queer person.
Then maybe, just maybe, Iāll become a better sexter.
Jake Stewart is a D.C.-based writer.
Commentary
What will you do to make Pride safe this year?
Anxiety reigns among American Jews after Oct. 7
Each year, hundreds of thousands of Jews and supporters of Israel attend Pride marches. With a few exceptions, these spaces have always been safe and welcoming for the broader Pride community.
But this year is different.
For American Jews, anxiety reigns as we head into this Pride season. The appalling rise of antisemitism since Oct. 7 forces us to ask difficult questions. As many Jews increasingly feel alienated and excluded from progressive spaces, weāre left to wonder: If I wear a Jewish symbol, march with a Jewish group, or wave a rainbow flag adorned with the Star of David, will I be safe at Pride?
Even before Oct. 7, LGBTQ Jews had plenty of reason to feel trepidation about their safety at Pride. From blanket bans on Stars of David at past Pride gatherings to antisemitism on display at the recent Sydney Pride, too often Jews feel forced to choose between their LGBTQ and Jewish identities and hide their connection to Israel.
Since Oct. 7, terms like “apartheid,” “genocide” and “Zionism equals racism” are increasingly thrown around casually, often without a nuanced understanding of their impact or the realities they oversimplify. This rhetoric not only alienates but also endangers Jewish queer people. It makes us feel emotionally unsafe. It increases the chances that we will be physically unsafe as well.
We must not allow the Israel-Palestine conflict to be imported into Pride.
I will always remember the euphoria of the first Pride rally I attended. I was barely 18 years old, in a crowd of people of all ages, races, genders and gender orientations ā and they were like me. Queer. It felt safe. It was the first time I experienced that feeling of safety, and it will always stay with me.
Like Pride events everywhere, it was a vibrant, colorful space for LGBTQ people to celebrate our true authentic selves, without fear or reservation.
But that feeling of safety wasnāt shared by everyone in my small New England town. I soon noticed a few people scattered throughout the crowd wearing paper bags over their heads, with eye holes so they could see but not be seen. I later learned that those faceless people were teachers who, in those days before civil rights protections, needed to protect their identities and their careers.
They did not feel safe. Will Jews and those who are connected to Israel feel safe this year?
The history of Pride is a testament to courage in the face of adversity. It wasn’t long ago when attending Pride events was a defiant act against societal norms, where participants like those teachers faced tangible threats of discrimination, ridicule and even violence. Even today in some places, our queer community still navigates a gauntlet of hatred as we try to celebrate who we are.
It’s crucial to recognize that within the Jewish community, there is a wide spectrum of views on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, including many who are deeply committed to advocating for Palestinian rights. In fact, many of the 1,200 innocent Israelis murdered on Oct. 7 were Zionists who devoted their lives to reconciliation and peace with their Arab neighbors.
We are at a pivotal moment, one that demands action: What can we do to ensure Pride remains a safe space for everyone, including Jewish participants?
It’s imperative that Pride committees around the country proactively address these concerns. They must implement training programs focused on de-escalation and fostering an environment of understanding and respect.
As individuals who stand in solidarity with the values of Pride, each of us must consider our role in this effort. Will you march alongside those of us who feel vulnerable, offering your presence as a shield against intolerance? Will you engage in dialogues that challenge the importation of external conflicts into Pride, advocating instead for a celebration that unites rather than divides?
The true test of inclusivity at Pride lies not merely in welcoming a diverse crowd, but in ensuring that every participant feels safe and valued. If we remain indifferent to the vulnerabilities faced by Jewish queer people this Pride season, we will fall short of the very ideals of inclusivity and solidarity that Pride stands for.
Just as we expect schools to protect trans and nonbinary students like Nex Benedict, we have a responsibility in the LGBTQ community to ensure that people can carry an Israeli flag or a Palestinian flag, wear a yarmulke or a hijab and be safe.
As we look forward to this year’s Pride, let us commit to making it a space where safety is not a privilege afforded to some but a right enjoyed by all. Let’s engage with our local Pride committees, advocate for comprehensive safety measures and stand in solidarity with those who feel at risk.Ā
Only then can we celebrate the true spirit of Pride, rooted in love, acceptance and the unwavering belief in equality for all.
Ethan Felson is the executive director of A Wider Bridge.
Opinions
How to protect your sobriety on St. Patrickās Day
Celebrate with a supportive friend and carry a mocktail
Sobriety can be challenging, whether you overcame alcohol or drug addiction or chose to abstain from alcohol for a healthier life. Holidays like St. Patrickās Day can serve as a reminder of the past or could be looked at as another day.
Many celebrate St. Patrickās Day sober, as there are generally family-friendly gatherings, community events, or even sober celebrations. If you have concerns about your sobriety, there are practical tips you can use to protect it on St. Patrickās Day.
For instance, remind yourself why you are sober, and donāt do it alone. You can still have fun and celebrate but do it with other sober people. Everyone has their reasons for stopping drinking; remind yourself of those reasons and hold yourself accountable.
Know your triggers; it doesnāt matter if you are a recovering addict or have removed alcohol from your life. Be cautious around possible triggers that pose a challenge. Most people in this situation choose to skip the bar and find something fun to do or go to a sober St. Patrickās Day celebration.
Keep a non-alcoholic drink or mocktail in your hand. People will not bother you to ask if you want a drink if you already have something to sip on, like a mocktail. This also leads to planning how to say no. You will encounter social pressure if you go to a bar on St. Patrickās Day. Itās unavoidable. Itās wise to practice ways to refuse alcohol.
Finally, if all else fails, take a walk outside if you feel overwhelmed. The most straightforward solutions are usually the best. Remove yourself from any situation you know will lead to relapse. This is also why itās essential to be with a sober friend or loved one; there is accountability and someone to lean on.
The benefits of being sober are plentiful, along with the numerous health perks, such as better quality sleep, more mental alertness, and lessened anxiety or depression. Yet, there is one benefit that is not necessarily always spoken about.
Being sober on St. Patrickās Day or any day removes all chances of impaired driving. Unfortunately, days that promote heavy alcohol use may increase the chances of drunk or drugged driving. For example, in Washington State, impaired driving has been involved in roughly half of fatal crashes for decades. In 2022, 52% of traffic fatalities involved an impaired driver, according to the Traffic Safety Commission.
Moreover, drivers ages 21 to 30 make up one-third of impaired drivers in fatal crashes, and another 20% are ages 31 to 40. If you are celebrating St. Patrickās Day sober, take the necessary precautions and look out for one another. If you choose to consume alcohol, drink responsibly, know your limits, and do not drink and drive.