Commentary
Bruce Jenner’s transition is the most public ever
Kudos to ABC News for responsible interview
After months of teasing, tabloid intrusions, a fatal car crash and a trans community holding its breath, America’s hero, who, in Sawyer’s words, “embodied the muscle and glory of America,” had come home, and said, simply, “I am a woman.”
Most remarkably, Jenner, who still wants to be called Bruce and “he” at this stage of the transition, a transition that has progressed in fits and starts for 30 years, was humble and respectful to the trans community. Admitting his ignorance and stating, “I am not a spokesperson for the community,” nevertheless he was proud and hopeful that his courage, recognized by all of his children and his mother, his sister and his exes, would bring about change. Considering that fewer than 10 percent of Americans knew a trans person before Friday night, that change is very likely. The vast reach of this program, on television and social media, globally as well as nationally, makes this the most public of all gender transitions. His refusal to be personally dragged into tabloid style journalism comes as a relief to many who feared the worst.
Jenner’s story is one I could have written for myself, one familiar to me from my friends and colleagues. It’s a story of the trans movement of the past half century, but most importantly, can now be seen as just the beginning of the story. The discussion about trans children, highlighted by the very common, now classical tale of most adult trans women having been confused about their gender as children, laid a marker for the next generation. Drs. Norman Spack and Jo Olson spoke eloquently about their work with children, and to ABC News’ credit, they only promoted one opponent of transition, Dr. Stephen Levine. His words were relatively benign and lost in the overwhelming positivity of the representatives from the trans community, from Professor Jenny Boylan to model Geena Rocero and political and corporate activist Diego Sanchez.
The role of the Kardashians was minimized, as Jenner made clear he was a Jenner, not a Kardashian. Yet the Kardashians, like Jenner’s children, were also highly supportive of their stepfather. Very significantly, while the program followed the traditional structure of a trans coming-out story, with the visit to the childhood home, replete with decades of family photo albums, Jenner made it very clear he would stay away from the salacious. He stated that, “filming and shooting [surgery] would be degrading.” So we weren’t, and can hope not to be, subjected to the usual shots pre and post-operatively, and maybe even spared the makeup lessons and getting dressed. After all, how exciting is watching all that? This is real progress in the evolution of telling trans stories.
Notably Jenner emphasized that his brain was always more female than male, that while he never felt “trapped in the wrong body” it was a situation that he knew was a fact of his life, and that the lonely, introverted child who rarely socialized has never really disappeared. As Dr. Spack said very simply about all trans persons, “If they were wonderful people before, they’ll be wonderful people after.” Transition just makes you authentic; it doesn’t change your personality or character.
Like most trans women of his generation, he tried to prove his masculine gender to himself, but in spite of being hailed as the greatest male athlete of 1976, he felt defeated by his failure to be himself. If that won’t give pause to the proponents of reparative therapy for trans kids, nothing will. It’s fitting that Jenner’s story has arrived so soon after the statement from the White House in opposition to conversion therapy for gay and trans kids. There must be some very unhappy Republicans listening to this religious person speak so clearly and humbly.
Oh, wait, it gets worse – Jenner is also a Republican! Not a surprise, as wealth and privilege do have a habit of causing people to prioritize their personal assets over societal needs. Jenner isn’t the first Republican public transitioner, either, as Susan Stanton had him beat by almost a decade. While he said he’s willing to meet with Sen. Mitch McConnell and House Speaker John Boehner, I have a feeling he will learn quickly just who his friends really are. He unassumingly recognized that much of the trans community fares far worse than he because of his class and racial status, and I don’t expect the Republican Party to embrace him. But if Ted Cruz would love his daughters if they were gay, I suppose anything is possible.
This program was an example to America of responsible journalism, free from titillation and the usual intrusive questions. It should also be an example to those Republican legislators who have introduced a slew of anti-trans (and anti-gay) legislation this year, particularly targeting children in school. There is hope that after seeing this broadcast their shame will cause them to reconsider and back down like some of their colleagues have already done.
And as for Nikolai Avilov, 1976 decathlon bronze medalist from the defunct Soviet Union – “yes, you former commie bastard, you did lose to a woman.”
Today, on World AIDS Day, we honor the resilience, courage, and dignity of people living with HIV everywhere especially refugees, asylum seekers, and queer displaced communities across East Africa and the world.
For many, living with HIV is not just a health journey it is a journey of navigating stigma, borders, laws, discrimination, and survival.
Yet even in the face of displacement, uncertainty, and exclusion, queer people living with HIV continue to rise, thrive, advocate, and build community against all odds.
To every displaced person living with HIV:
• Your strength inspires us.
• Your story matters.
• You are worthy of safety, compassion, and the full right to health.
• You deserve a world where borders do not determine access to treatment, where identity does not determine dignity, and where your existence is celebrated not criminalized.
Let today be a reminder that:
• HIV is not a crime.
• Queer identity is not a crime.
• Seeking safety is not a crime.
• Stigma has no place in our communities.
• Access to treatment, care, and protection is a human right.
As we reflect, we must recommit ourselves to building systems that protect not punish displaced queer people living with HIV. We must amplify their voices, invest in inclusive healthcare, and fight the inequalities that fuel vulnerability.
Hope is stronger when we build it together.
Let’s continue to uplift, empower, and walk alongside those whose journeys are too often unheard.
Today we remember.
Today we stand together.
Today we renew hope.
Abraham Junior lives in the Gorom Refugee Settlement in South Sudan.
Commentary
Perfection is a lie and vulnerability is the new strength
Rebuilding life and business after profound struggles
I grew up an overweight, gay Black boy in West Baltimore, so I know what it feels like not to fit into a world that was not really made for you. When I was 18, my mother passed from congestive heart failure, and fitness became a sanctuary for my mental health rather than just a place to build my body. That is the line I open most speeches with when people ask who I am and why I started SWEAT DC.
The truth is that little boy never really left me.
Even now, at 42 years old, standing 6 feet 3 inches and 225 pounds as a fitness business owner, I still carry the fears, judgments, and insecurities of that broken kid. Many of us do. We grow into new seasons of life, but the messages we absorbed when we were young linger and shape the stories we tell ourselves. My lack of confidence growing up pushed me to chase perfection as I aged. So, of course, I ended up in Washington, D.C., which I lovingly call the most perfection obsessed city in the world.
Chances are that if you are reading this, you feel some of that too.
D.C. is a place where your resume walks through the door before you do, where degrees, salaries, and the perfect body feel like unspoken expectations. In the age of social media, the pressure is even louder. We are all scrolling through each other’s highlight reels, comparing our behind the scenes to someone else’s curated moment. And I am not above it. I have posted the perfect photo with the inspirational “God did it again” caption when I am feeling great and then gone completely quiet when life feels heavy. I am guilty of loving being the strong friend while hating to admit that sometimes I am the friend who needs support.
We are all caught in a system that teaches us perfection or nothing at all. But what I know for sure now is this: Perfection is a lie and vulnerability is the new strength.
When I first stepped into leadership, trying to be the perfect CEO, I found Brené Brown’s book, “Daring Greatly” and immediately grabbed onto the idea that vulnerability is strength. I wanted to create a community at SWEAT where people felt safe enough to be real. Staff, members, partners, everyone. “Welcome Home” became our motto for a reason. Our mission is to create a world where everyone feels confident in their skin.
But in my effort to build that world for others, I forgot to build it for myself.
Since launching SWEAT as a pop up fundraiser in 2015, opening our first brick and mortar in 2017, surviving COVID, reemerging and scaling, and now preparing to open our fifth location in Shaw in February 2026, life has been full. Along the way, I went from having a tight trainer six pack to gaining nearly 50 pounds as a stressed out entrepreneur. I lost my father. I underwent hip replacement surgery. I left a relationship that looked fine on paper but was not right. I took on extra jobs to keep the business alive. I battled alcoholism. I faced depression and loneliness. There are more stories than I can fit in one piece.
But the hardest battle was the one in my head. I judged myself for not having the body I once had. I asked myself how I could lead a fitness company if I was not in perfect shape. I asked myself how I could be a gay man in this city and not look the way I used to.
Then came the healing.
A fraternity brother said to me on the phone, “G, you have to forgive yourself.” It stopped me in my tracks. I had never considered forgiving myself. I only knew how to push harder, chase more, and hide the cracks. When we hung up, I cried. That moment opened something in me. I realized I had not neglected my body. I had held my life and my business together the best way I knew how through unimaginable seasons.
I stopped shaming myself for not looking like my past. I started honoring the new ways I had proven I was strong.
So here is what I want to offer anyone who is in that dark space now. Give yourself the same grace you give everyone else. Love yourself through every phase, not just the shiny ones. Recognize growth even when growth simply means you are still here.
When I created SWEAT, I hoped to build a home where people felt worthy just as they are, mostly because I needed that home too. My mission now is to carry that message beyond our walls and into the city I love. To build a STRONGER DC.
Because strength is not perfection. Strength is learning to love an imperfect you.
With love and gratitude, Coach G.
Gerard Burley, also known as Coach G, is a D.C.-based fitness entrepreneur.
Commentary
Elusive safety: what new global data reveals about gender, violence, and erasure
Movements against gender equality, lack of human rights data contributing factors.
“My identity could be revealed, people can say whatever they want [online] without consequences. [Hormone replacement therapy] is illegal here so I’m just waiting to find a way to get out of here.”
-Anonymous respondent to the 2024 F&M Global Barometers LGBTQI+ Perception Index from Iraq, self-identified as a transgender woman and lesbian
As the campaign for 16 Days Against Gender-Based Violence begins, it is a reminder that gender-based violence (GBV) — both on– and offline — not only impacts women and girls but everyone who has been harmed or abused because of their gender or perceived gender. New research from the Franklin & Marshall (F&M) Global Barometers and its report A Growing Backlash: Quantifying the Experiences of LGBTQI+ People, 2022-2024 starkly show trends of declining safety among LGBTQI+ persons around the world.
This erosion of safety is accelerated by movements against gender equality and the disappearance of credible human rights data and reporting. The fight against GBV means understanding all people’s lived realities, including those of LGBTQI+ people, alongside the rights we continue to fight for.
We partnered together while at USAID and Franklin & Marshall College to expand the research and evidence base to better understand GBV against LGBTQI+ persons through the F&M Global Barometers. The collection of barometers tracks the legal rights and lived experiences of LGBTQI+ persons from 204 countries and territories from 2011 to the present. With more than a decade of data, it allows us to see how rights have progressed and receded as well as the gaps between legal protections and lived experiences of discrimination and violence.
This year’s data reveals alarming trends that highlight how fear and violence are, at its root, gendered phenomena that affect anyone who transgresses traditional gender norms.
LGBTQI+ people feel less safe
Nearly two-thirds of countries experienced a decline in their score on the F&M Global Barometers LGBTQI+ Perception Index (GBPI) from 2022-2024. This represents a five percent drop in global safety scores in just two years. With almost 70 percent of countries receiving an “F” grade on the GBPI, this suggests a global crisis in actual human rights protections for LGBTQI+ people.
Backsliding on LGBTQI+ human rights is happening everywhere, even in politically stable, established democracies with human rights protections for LGBTQI+ people. Countries in Western Europe and the Americas experienced the greatest negative GBPI score changes globally, 74 and 67 percent, respectively. Transgender people globally reported the highest likelihood of violence, while trans women and intersex people reported the highest levels of feeling very unsafe or unsafe simply because of who they are.
Taboo of gender equality
Before this current administration dismantled USAID, I helped create an LGBTQI+ inclusive whole-of-government strategy to prevent and respond to GBV that highlighted the unique forms of GBV against LGBTQI+ persons. This included so-called ‘corrective’ rape related to actual or perceived sexual orientation, gender identity, or expression” and so-called ‘conversion’ therapy practices that seek to change or suppress a person’s gender identity or expression, sexual orientation, or sex characteristics. These efforts helped connect the dots in understanding that LGBTQI+ violence is rooted in the same systems of inequality and power imbalances as the broader spectrum of GBV against women and girls.
Losing data and accountability
Data that helps better understand GBV against LGBTQI+ persons is also disappearing. Again, the dismantling of USAID meant a treasure trove of research and reports on LGBTQI+ rights have been lost. Earlier this year, the US Department of State removed LGBTQI+ reporting from its annual Human Rights Reports. These played a critical role in providing credible sources for civil society, researchers, and policymakers to track abuses and advocate for change.
If violence isn’t documented, it’s easier for governments to deny it even exists and harder for us to hold governments accountable. Yet when systems of accountability work, governments and civil society can utilize data in international forums like the UN Universal Periodic Review, the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, and the Sustainable Development Goals to assess progress and compliance and call for governments to improve protections.
All may not be lost if other countries and donors fill the void by supporting independent data collection and reporting efforts like the F&M Global Barometers and other academic and civil society monitoring. Such efforts are essential to the fight against GBV: The data helps show that the path toward safety, equality, and justice is within our reach if we’re unafraid of truth and visibility of those most marginalized and impacted.
Jay Gilliam (he/him/his) was the Senior LGBTQI+ Coordinator at USAID and is a member of the Global Outreach Advisory Council of the F&M Global Barometers.
Susan Dicklitch-Nelson (she/her/hers) is the founder of the F&M Global Barometers and Professor of Government at Franklin & Marshall College.

