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Growing up with gay godparents

It all seemed normal, until I reached middle school

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By INGRID GOOCH

In my parents’ house there is a photo on the mantle, faded from years of exposure to the sun. It has always been a part of our house; for as long as I can remember, that faded photo has overlooked our family room. In it, my mom is dressed in blue and gold and two men are standing to her right. Her hair is up in a bun, decorated with flowers, and she is resting her hand on her stomach. The men are in suits with the most jovial expressions on their faces. I am also in the photo, though I was not yet born. I did not arrive until five months after this photo of my godparents’ civil union was taken. I never thought much about that photo until I began to grow up and realize that the world is not quite the haven of tolerance and acceptance of diversity that I had always assumed was typical.

Tolerance and acceptance of diversity are core values in our family, and this faded photo reminds me of the gift that my parents gave me by modeling these values over the course of my life. Today, civil unions and gay marriage are discussed openly in the news, but 17 years ago, before this topic was even acknowledged, we were doing it in our backyard.

As I am writing this, I am realizing that I have chosen the most difficult question to address because I have always recognized homosexuality as a normal part of life, and it had never occurred to me that this was something not everyone accepts; that loving my godparents fell into the category of acceptance and tolerance of diversity. I lost this naivety as I grew up and began to learn that homosexuality was considered a societal taboo. For example, when I started school, I would talk to people about my godparents, unintentionally making it clear that they were two men. It was a non-issue in my family, so at six years old I neither concealed it nor blurted it out. In fact, I didn’t even realize my godparents were gay until I was about 11 years old; it was that normal.

Once I got into middle and high school, though, I began to see opposition toward gays. For example, during a school dance, my straight girlfriend could not bring her straight girlfriend from another school because it was considered too “suggestively homosexual.” Additionally, I dated a boy who was horrified to discover that my cherished godparents were gay. He expressed his feelings by referring to them as “perverted” and “disgusting.” Since I had grown up with two men as godparents, this opposition was foreign to me, but once I was able to grasp that homosexuality was a controversy in our society, I made the conscious decision to support gay rights. Basically, I continued with what I had been doing all my life, exercising tolerance and acceptance of the diversity in our society, I just understood more clearly what I was really doing in making this conscious decision.

In high school, I began to lead by example rather than sitting quietly on the sidelines. Two of my high school friends found the courage the come out to me, an action that I deeply respect, as I now understand the level of trust such an action requires. Sadly, neither friend felt comfortable coming out to their parents. They both told me that if they were to tell their parents, they would be disowned. Whether that is an accurate assessment of how their parents would react is irrelevant; this is the very real fear with which they live.

I am concerned for my friends because, based on my godparents’ experiences, I know what life could be like for them. In 1984, one of my godparents was on a date with another man, enjoying a walk in the park. Thinking they were alone, they shared an innocent kiss and returned to their car. Suddenly, several men approached them, severely beat them, and chased after them with shotguns yelling that they were going to “kill you fags.” My other godparent was so tormented by the intolerance he witnessed in his school that, in order to survive, he joined the other boys in beating up gay schoolmates simply to hide the fact that he, himself, was gay — an act that he now thoroughly regrets.

Even today, despite the great progress our society has made for gay rights since the 20th century, intolerance exists en masse. My godparents cannot wear their wedding rings on their left hands, they cannot keep photos of their wedding, their vacations or their families on their desks at work; they cannot talk about their personal lives in the workplace or secure spousal insurance through their jobs; they cannot hold hands in public — all simple acts that the straight community takes for granted.

As a college-bound young adult, I respect the rights of those who disagree with me, but my concern is in the harm that intolerance of diversity can breed. I have a richer life because my friends — gay and straight — feel comfortable sharing their lives and experiences with me. Conversely, they have richer lives because I share my life and experiences with them. Our peaceful, non-judgmental coexistence benefits everyone and harms no one. This is, to me, the greatest gift that diversity in life grants us. 

Ingrid Gooch, 17, graduated from the Connelly School of the Holy Child in Potomac, Md., in June, and will attend Hood College in Frederick in the fall to study psychology and French.

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Celebrating WorldPride cruising the Norwegian Fjords

Stay strong, stay beautiful, speak up, and speak out

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(Photo by harvepino/Bigstock)

As many of you who follow me in the Washington Blade know, I love to travel. These days it is all about cruising (on the water). I take at least two cruises a year, and plan them out years in advance so it’s not always guaranteed they won’t conflict with something else I may want to do at the same time. This time it turned out my bucket list cruise to the Norwegian Fjords and the Arctic is going to happen right in the middle of WorldPride in D.C. I had planned on sitting with the mayor at the Shakira opening concert, which sadly was cancelled. 

This particular cruise has been on my bucket list for more than 40 years. Before she passed away, my mom ran the largest Title XX senior center in New York City. This was back in the early 1980s. She would often plan trips for those who came to the center, taking them to fun places. One of those trips was a cruise through the Norwegian Fjords. Mom came home with amazing pictures and from that time I swore one day I would get there myself. Nearly three years ago, before D.C. was awarded WorldPride, I spoke with my favorite travel agents at My Lux Cruise, and began to plan and promote the idea of this trip with them. So now this dream of mine is coming true.

My cruises, while not gay cruises, are always with large groups from the LGBTQ community. So, I will be celebrating my Pride on this trip traveling with a group of about 85 members of the community. Some from D.C., others from my second home in Rehoboth Beach, and others from around the United States, and around the world. Many are the same people who travel with me on my annual transatlantic cruises. This year, that one will be on the Celebrity ASCENT leaving Oct. 31 out of Rome, and traveling 13 days to Ft. Lauderdale. Still time for you to join me on that one.

I left for London on June 3 so missed the biggest weekend of WorldPride in D.C. By the time you read this column, it will be in full swing, and a huge success, thanks to the work of the Capital Pride Alliance, and so many others. 

On the morning of June 5,, I will be boarding a bus from my London hotel for the ride to Southampton, where we will meet the Celebrity APEX for our 12-day cruise. Scott and Dustin, my travel agents, and good friends, will host a sail-away party onboard, where I will get to see old friends, and make new ones. The next morning, we will arrive in Bruges, (Zeebrugge) Belgium. I love Bruges and will be spending the day in town. From there it’s on to places I haven’t been before, including Norway and the Arctic Circle. Day three we arrive in Flam, Norway, where we have already booked a railway trip up the mountain; day four will be cruising the Arctic Circle; day five we will be in Tromso, Norway; day six in Honningsvag, Norway; day seven is again cruising around the Arctic Circle; day eight is in Geiranger, Norway; day nine in Alesund, Norway; day 10 in Haugesund, Norway; day 11 is at sea; and day 12 we arrive back in Southampton. I have arranged to go directly to the airport for an afternoon flight back to D.C. While I really regret missing WorldPride, what I am happy about is missing the June 14 birthday parade planned by the felon in the White House. 

In each of the cities in Norway we will be taking tours, and be off the ship for most of the day. One of the interesting things I look forward to is during this time of the year, we will have about 20 hours of daylight, which should be something different. Unfortunately, this will not let us see the Northern Lights, but then you can’t have everything. 

I look forward to hearing from all my friends back in D.C. about their fun experiences with WorldPride, and I know there will be lots of great stories to share. I will be sharing some of my experiences from the cruise with you in a blog I will be writing for the Blade. I wish everyone a happy WorldPride wherever you are, and whatever you are doing. Stay strong, stay beautiful, speak up, and speak out, knowing we all make the world a better place.


Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist. 

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2025: the year that Pride changed

We need to bring some Marsha P. Johnson energy to the party this year

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(Washington Blade file photo by Michael Key)

Rewind back to 2017. Trump took office following his election win, and Republicans controlled both the House and the Senate. Superstar Katy Perry suffered a public relations disaster following the release of her latest album. Nintendo brought us a brand-spanking-new Switch, while a now-iconic horror movie—written and directed by a Black man—became a smash hit among critics and audiences alike. 

Well, this feels familiar. Why, then, does Pride in 2025 feel so different? The year 2017 was my first D.C. Pride, and I distinctly remember having a blast and feeling celebratory, even in the wake of Trump’s election. Now instead of Pride, all I feel is anxious, which sucks given this year D.C. hosts WorldPride, too. Upon some reflection, I distilled three reasons as to why. 

The first is highly personal and comes with an update: I recently switched bars. Early this year, I experienced a profound crisis that, sadly, came with substance abuse. It was the most challenging time of my life, and while I may write about it someday, for now I’m still processing its impact. Fortunately, my colleagues at The Little Gay Pub stepped up in a major way to help their struggling coworker. I’d love to take this moment to thank them, since I have yet to properly do so. The work they did to assist me speaks volumes about the staff’s character, and I am forever grateful for their friendship and guidance. 

Now I work at Spark Social House, the new LGBTQ alcohol-free bar and café. Yes, you read that right: an alcohol-free bar. You can also think of it as a nonalcoholic “third space” for the LGBTQ community, but hey, if you are tipsy, stop in for a grilled cheese. We’re open until 4 a.m. on weekends for a reason, and I work the late shift most Saturday nights. 

My switch between bars was the healthier move, but it underscores why Pride is a bit complicated for me this year. I’m navigating severe and unexpected changes in my life, and as a result, Pride fell off my radar. I also know I’m not alone. Here in D.C., thousands of people lost their jobs abruptly, causing many to question who they are in an otherwise austere, corporate landscape. Meanwhile, the news cycle became bleaker than before, so in times like this it’s easy to isolate. Personally, I isolated myself for months after leaving the Pub, and navigating large crowds became the last thing I wanted. It makes sense, then, why WorldPride might feel as overwhelming as a stampede of rhinos. 

The second reason is the political context. Yes, Trump has been president before, and yes, he recently appointed the highest-ranking openly gay official in our nation’s history, but still his presidency ushered in attacks on LGBTQ rights. To start, look to my home state of Idaho, which this year passed a resolution calling on the Supreme Court to overturn its 2015 decision on same-sex marriage. Idaho’s brashness here is the direct result of the reelection of Trump, who knowingly appointed three conservative justices to the high court during his first term. 

Unfortunately, policies like this are cropping up across the country, like in Ohio, where there’s currently a bill to celebrate “natural family” month, or in Florida, where our history is being erased from schools and libraries. Outside the country, Trump’s defunding of crucial USAID programs leaves queers around the globe in peril. Big-named corporations like Target basically abandoned us, while the Department of Homeland Security can now spy on us solely for our gender identity or sexual orientation. So yes, in the face of all this, dancing with my shirt off and making out with the dude beside me doesn’t feel as fun as it used to. Strange how that happens. 

The final, and perhaps most salient, reason Pride changed are the relentless attacks on our transgender, genderqueer, and drag artist brothers, sisters, and siblings. These attacks are heinous. While many queers fear a rollback of rights, it has already begun for trans people. This year alone, there grew a laundry list of what trans people can’t do: participate in sports, work in safe spaces, serve in the military, or simply pee unbothered. Tell me: what group of people have their lives controlled to that level of minutiae? I don’t know—prisoners, maybe? 

Outside the stripping of their rights and dignity, the language directed at the trans community has turned vile. This is best represented by the antics of Rep. Nancy Mace (R-S.C.). Mace is so obsessed with everyone else’s genitalia in the bathroom, it borders on sexual harassment. This is made more egregious given she once seemed exemplary for Republicans on gay and transgender equality, yet for some dubious reason, she went from that to poster child of LGBTQ+ hatred. Now she purposely misgenders trans people, leading me to believe we should misgender him to see how he likes it, so I’ll start: Nancy Mace is such a dreadful, horrid, odious bigot, I lazily Google searched synonyms for vile to describe him, because he certainly ain’t worth the extra effort, ain’t he? 

However, Nancy the Mancy is not the only Republican to support these terrible views. Trump himself spent more on anti-trans ads than any other topic in his most recent campaign, but don’t worry—his appointment of a gay man to Treasury Secretary makes up for it. No, actually, it doesn’t, but for some gays it does, which blows my mind. Republicans made a trade-off between the gay and trans communities, because we’re what? That’s right: interchangeable. Grab any letter and you’re good, apparently. Or no letters at all, if you’re Richard Grenell. 

Nowadays, coming out trans is undoubtedly the bravest of all queer identities, not only because you’ll lose your rights, but you’ll face deeper hatred as well. Still, trans people like Rep. Sarah McBride (D-Del.) remain unfazed, which speaks to their remarkable poise and courage. But can we say the same for the rest of the queer community? Are we capable of not fleeing in the face of such hatred? Seeing some of us sell out our queer family leaves me wondering. As a reminder: family doesn’t sell out family, and when you do, I no longer want you in my family. I think that’s fair. 

So, for these three reasons, Pride changed in my book. To better understand why, I also looked up the definition of the word ‘pride.’ Turns out there isn’t one definition but two, the first being “a feeling of deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from the achievements of those with whom one is closely associated.” A few years into securing corporate support and our right to marry, this describes how Pride felt in 2017. But the second definition is “consciousness of one’s own dignity.” To me, this better summarizes Pride in 2025, for it became the year they tried to steal our dignity, which also makes it the year we must stop them from doing so. This more closely aligns to the first Pride of our queer ancestors, for in the face of even more hatred and fewer rights, they persevered.  

So, grab that metaphorical brick—it’s time we bring some Marsha P. Johnson energy to Pride this year. Remember our haters want us divided and isolated because that’s how they win. This means I, too, must pull my head out of my ass and change my attitude toward Pride while I still can. WorldPride organizers fought tirelessly to secure our events, particularly during this difficult year, so let’s enjoy them. If drag artists are performing, go support them if you can, and events focused on our solidarity matter more than ever before. Let’s take our energy and spread it like glitter everywhere we can throughout the whole damn year. 

The best part is I know we’re capable, for if the queer community can show up in my lowest moments, we can certainly show up for us all. My next three columns will focus on our most targeted family members: the trans, genderqueer, and drag artist communities. Since people back home read my stuff, for better or for worse, it’s worth highlighting to them the profound beauty of each. 

So sure, Pride is different this year, but whether that’s good or bad is now up to us. I know which I’m choosing. Do you? 


Jake Stewart is a D.C.-based writer and bar back.

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Making sense of a dark Pride season

Trump’s attacks have deterred WorldPride visitors but we won’t be erased

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(Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

WorldPride was supposed to attract up to three million visitors to the Nation’s Capital for a once-in-a-lifetime celebration that would boost all of the region’s queer-owned businesses and shine a bright light on the progressive, pro-LGBTQ city that is Washington.

Then came the 2024 election. 

In an instant, the mood shifted. Then the anti-trans attacks came — eliminating “X” gender markers on passports, a trans military ban, efforts to criminalize affirming healthcare. The list goes on. Many trans people fear for their safety and those with the means are fleeing the country, as the Blade has reported.

As WorldPride drew closer, there were travel warnings from here and abroad for trans tourists and boycott calls from allied countries. 

As we commemorate the 50th anniversary of LGBTQ Pride in D.C., it’s important to remember why we come together each June. We celebrated Pride before corporate sponsors embraced us and we will continue to celebrate and protest as our fair-weathered “allies” drop like flies amid Trump’s petty threats. We don’t need rainbow-colored Doritos and Oreos. We need safe and affirming spaces for our own to gather, celebrate, grieve, and protest the many injustices perpetrated by Trump and his toadies in Congress.

The first D.C. Pride, held on Sunday, June 22, 1975 and organized by local legend Deacon Maccubbin and the staff of Lambda Rising, sought to draw attention to New York’s Liberation Day March held that June 29 that drew thousands commemorating the 1969 Stonewall Rebellion. The D.C. City Council proclaimed June 22 as Gay Pride Day. The Blade published a crowd estimate of 2,500 for that first celebration and noted that many attendees were busy dodging NBC and Channel 7 news cameras out of fear of being outed.

Fast-forward 50 years and the city’s Pride events draw hundreds of thousands as the city embraces LGBTQ visibility and equality each June. 

After so many years of progress, 2025 feels dark, as our trans community is attacked, our friends in the federal workforce face harassment and termination, immigrant communities are hunted, HIV funding is gutted, and journalists, musicians, actors, and artists are deemed enemies of the state. It’s inconceivable to many of us that Trump could defeat Kamala Harris and take our country backwards so fast, crippling an economy that was booming under Joe Biden.

In the face of all this darkness, it’s important that we show up for WorldPride. Many LGBTQ people no longer feel safe or comfortable living authentically and openly. So those of us who are more privileged have to show up and be seen and heard. The WorldPride boycott calls are disappointing and misguided. No one ever said a social justice movement would be an endless party. This is hard work filled with setbacks and heartbreaks. Many of us won’t live to see a day in this country when the work is finished but that’s the point — we show up to make things easier on the next generation. Rather than stay home, all of us, along with our straight allies, should attend the marches and parades (and fireworks displays!) and send a clear message to Trump that we will not be erased. He and his cronies have deleted scores of pages from government websites from the SBA to the Interior Department, scrubbing any mention of LGBTQ history, as if we never existed. The Blade’s 56-year archive tells another story.

It’s the story of a loving community fighting to overcome police brutality, AIDS indifference, hate crimes, legalized discrimination, racism, hate, and bigotry to forge happy and productive lives under the American promise of equality. We’re not there yet but WorldPride offers an opportunity to stand up and be seen and counted. 

So I hope everyone reading this will join us at the many events scheduled to celebrate Pride. It may seem like a small thing but there is power in numbers. Help us show the world that Donald Trump has not extinguished or exhausted us. He has reinvigorated us and inspired a renewed sense of purpose and dedication to justice. See you at WorldPride.


Kevin Naff is editor of the Washington Blade. Reach him at [email protected].

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