Opinions
The real story behind NAPWA’s collapse
Justice not served by sending Oldham to prison

Frank Oldham (Washington Blade file photo by Michael Key)
Having bitten my tongue at the advice of Frank Oldham’s attorneys as we waited for “justice” to prevail, I, as one of NAPWA’s longest serving board members, am finally able to set the story straight regarding how we concluded we had no choice but to close the doors on the first national AIDS organization, whose genesis was the Denver Principles.
I joined the NAPWA board in 1999, invited by Teri Anderson, interim executive director, and served until 2012. I am a married, heterosexual white woman, living with AIDS, mother, grandmother and great grandmother. I chaired the committee in 2005 that hired Frank, served as board chair for his first two years and on the executive committee for the remainder of his tenure.
Frank and I worked closely together to bring NAPWA out of a $250,000 deficit and into a financially positive position. Frank was a passionate, relentless fundraiser for NAPWA, using many deep relationships he had developed over his long and distinguished career, on behalf of those living with AIDS. He is a warm, gentle, consummate professional. Under his leadership NAPWA was able to struggle through the crushing downturns of 2008-2010 and maintain clean audits throughout his tenure.
Frank is a trusting soul who tries to see the best in all people, and in the last couple years recommended to the board the membership of several people who, in retrospect, did not have the best interests of NAPWA and its constituency at heart. It didn’t help that the three chairs who followed me all resigned during their tenures, leaving us the last few months with a new chair who was unable to control some members who consistently disrupted board meetings, shouted, yelled obscenities at other board members, and made it impossible to conduct meaningful business.
In the spring of 2012, Frank told members of the executive committee he would like to resign from his position, effective Dec. 31, 2012, staying with NAPWA as its fundraiser. He suggested young leadership would be a plus, ideally a gay, African-American male representing one of the populations hardest hit by the epidemic. Our board chair, who was just such a person, agreed he was willing to fill that role.
In the fall, the executive committee proposed the plan to the full board during a conference call, believing it provided for a smooth leadership transition with a known quantity. The call exploded into invective, screeching obscenities from the several disruptive members who disagreed. As a result, the board had no opportunity to discuss the advantages of the plan, and was thrown into its final chaotic months with a deeply divided board and dwindling resources.
Upon receiving an unexpected dismissal letter, Frank asked to talk with the board, but was denied that chance. Not only was Frank barred from speaking with the board, he was denied access to his office to take his personal belongings. To this day, he does not know what happened to the years of mementos he cherished—pictures of him with friends, political figures; items he had collected during his travels; his own personal records.
Being summarily dismissed and denied a board hearing, Frank—unfortunately—reacted by availing himself of what he believed he was owed in salary, vacation and sick leave. His action was not preplanned, an “embezzlement scheme,” or any intent to take other than what he felt he had a right to.
The matter could have been quickly settled by asking Frank to repay the approximately $11,000 in question—which he has done—and moving on. Instead, several of the disruptive board members, led by one in particular, continually pressured the Maryland State’s attorney to indict Frank. And contrary to the pre-sentencing investigator’s recommendation that Frank be given only supervised probation, at least one former board member petitioned the judge to add jail time, saying it would be in the best interests of the HIV community. Poppycock! The sentence has been decried by many in the community.
The former board member who appeared at the sentencing hearing, reading the “victim impact statement,” had been on the board less than a year, never served on the executive committee, and did not represent beliefs or views of we who suffered through the obstructionist tactics that characterized NAPWA’s final year. The person was shaking as he read the statement — as he should have been, knowing how disingenuous and self-serving it was.
Justice was not served by impugning the integrity of Frank Oldham, Jr. — a true warrior in the continuing battle against HIV/AIDS. We who love and respect him will continue to work for a reconsideration of his sentence with the hope we can quickly return him to continue his tireless efforts on behalf of the HIV/AIDS community.
A petition has begun urging reconsideration of Oldham’s sentence; you can sign it here.
Judith Billings is an attorney and educator who served for eight years as the elected Washington State Superintendent of Public Instruction. She served on President Clinton’s HIV/AIDS Advisory Council and has served on the board of Planned Parenthood, chaired the Council of Chief State School Officers and co-chairs the Washington Council on Public Legal Education.
Authoritarianism does not announce its arrival. It’s too cowardly for that. It advances quietly, at the margins, testing how much fear and cruelty a community will tolerate and what bystanders will allow to happen to fellow human beings. History shows that queer folks, especially trans people, are often targeted first. That targeting is not incidental. It is intentional.
Defending queer rights is not a niche concern. It is a test of democratic health. A society that allows one group to be targeted will not stop there. Those who come for queer people in the morning are the same that go for educators, journalists, voters, and civil institutions in the afternoon. This is not speculation. It is a well-worn pattern.
Around the world, LGBTQ+ communities are under coordinated attack. In Russia, the so-called “international LGBTQ movement” has been labeled extremist, legally equating queer identity with terrorism. We are seeing distinct echoes of that foreign influence here at home. Elsewhere, governments criminalize queer existence, erase trans people from public life, or force people into silence through intimidation. The sequence is familiar: dehumanizing rhetoric, restrictive policy, and eventually open endorsements of violence. When these warning signs are ignored, repression accelerates.
It would be comforting to believe this is distant or abstract. It is not. In the United States, LGBTQ+ people, including trans people, have sought asylum abroad because they no longer feel safe in our own communities. When our neighbors must leave to feel safe, we have failed our community.
Experts at the Lemkin Institute for Genocide Prevention have warned that trans communities in the United States face serious and escalating danger. Their analysis is grounded in history. Genocide is not only mass killing. It is the systematic destruction of a group’s ability to exist safely and openly. Legal erasure, public demonization, exclusion from institutions, and tolerated harassment are all early stages of that process. History is clear. The time to act is before harm becomes irreversible.
Democratic backsliding rarely arrives with fanfare. It comes through school board votes, bureaucratic rules, elected leaders’ inaction, and symbolic reversals that seem small until they accumulate. This is how erosion takes hold.
In Salisbury, Md., my hometown, that erosion has become visible. The city halted the flying of Pride flags during Pride month and removed our downtown rainbow crosswalk. These were not neutral administrative choices. They sent a clear message to queer residents that their visibility and belonging are unwelcome.
When a community removes symbols that affirm dignity and safety, when books reflecting queer realities are pulled from schools and libraries, when children are excluded from participating in life simply because they are different, it creates harm. It teaches that difference is dangerous. And when politicians and people in positions of responsibility fail to protect trans kids, real harm follows: mental health crises, isolation, and even lives lost.
Pride flags, rainbow crosswalks, inclusive curricula, and supportive policies are not merely symbolic. They communicate that everyone belongs and that discrimination will not be tolerated. Removing them isolates queer people and emboldens those who see community as an exclusive club rather than a shared responsibility.
Queer liberation is not separate from the liberation of the broader community. It is inseparable from it. Living openly as queer challenges systems built on fear, rigid roles, and enforced conformity. When queer people gain ground, everyone gains ground. Each victory for queer liberation strengthens democracy itself.
This is how we know progress is possible. Every time a Pride flag stays flying. Every time a crosswalk remains painted. Every time a local ordinance protects gender identity. Every time a school affirms a student’s dignity. These are not small wins. Liberation grows through accumulation.
National politics can feel chaotic and overwhelming. Federal institutions are slow, complex, and distant. But democratic defense does not begin there. It begins locally, when neighbors show up to town halls, demand accountability, and refuse to let bigotry shape policy. It does not take extraordinary power to protect a city council chamber or a school board meeting. It takes people willing to stand up. It takes bystanders willing to step in.
This is the moment to act. Silence enables erosion. Action creates momentum. The question is not whether change is possible. It is whether you are willing to claim it.
Queer liberation is your liberation. When we defend the most targeted among us, we defend the future we all share. Every Pride flag flown, every rainbow crosswalk returned, every book left on the shelf, and every policy that affirms dignity sends a message far beyond town limits. It tells the world that democracy is being defended here.
Local victories are global victories. And every one of them matters.
Will Fries. is a Maryland communications strategist with experience in multiple major presidential campaigns.
Opinions
The felon in the White House must be stopped
Are there any decent Republican members of Congress left?
We are up shit’s creek if the felon in the White House actually thinks he has a Nobel Peace Prize. If he believes he deserves one, or Venezuelan opposition leader Maria Corina Machado had any other reason to give him hers, than it was easier, and less degrading, than going on her knees to him, as a number of men already have. I don’t know if she understood how many millions the medal could be worth. Instead, she could have used it for her people, if she didn’t want to keep it.
Machado was awarded the Nobel Prize for her work for the Venezuelan people. She spoke up for them, and fought for them. The felon couldn’t care less about them. He proved that by invading, and then supported Maduro’s vice president as president. He said he, and his fascist cohorts, would run the country, and is now stealing their oil and personally deciding what to do with it. After U.S. troops captured Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, Trump said, Venezuelan opposition leader Maria Corina Machado “doesn’t have the support within Venezuela to be its next leader, she was not consulted prior to the operation.” He went on to say, “I think it would be very tough for her to be the leader. She doesn’t have the support within or the respect within the country.” This is the slime bag she gave her Nobel Peace Prize medal to. I hope she is not naïve enough to believe he really cares about her, or her countrymen, and women.
Trump is vile, sick, and mentally deranged. He is threatening foes and allies alike. They see bending a knee to him only works for the moment, but has no long-term impact on his tiny brain. Today, he is threatening Greenland, and our NATO allies are moving their military to Greenland to protect it against the United States. Now he is threatening them with new tariffs. That would have once been unfathomable. He is saber rattling over Iran, Colombia, even Mexico. He is bombing Nigeria and Syria.
If that weren’t enough, he threatens to use the Insurrection Act to send the military into cities here. He has already sent in thousands of ICE agents. ICE is classified as a federal law enforcement agency under the Department of Homeland Security. They have authority to arrest, detain, and investigate immigration violations. However, the law is clear; ICE agents do not have unlimited power. They face significant constitutional restrictions that many people don’t realize, especially when it comes to entering homes and private spaces. But what is clear, in Minneapolis today, some of the agents are acting like the Gestapo. They are smashing car windows, pulling people out of their cars, invading homes, and workplaces, all without first having any proof the people they are going after are guilty of anything. I believe we need fair immigration laws, and they should be enforced. But this is clearly not what the felon is doing. The felon in the White House and his incompetent stooge at Homeland Security, Kristi Noem, who has no idea what the hell she is doing, are acting egregiously, and making a mockery of our democracy.
The president, Noem, Hegseth, Bondi, and the other incompetents in the felon’s Cabinet, simply pretend to forget the history of the United States. They don’t want to accept the truth; we are a nation of immigrants. It is immigrants who built our country, and are still building it. My parents were immigrants escaping from Hitler, and they came here and built a life, and in doing so, added to the greatness of our country. I want every person around the world who needs to escape from dictators, and despots, to be able to do the same as my parents did. We need to build an immigration system that allows them to do that. Instead, because of what this felon is doing, we are seeing American citizens thinking of leaving this country, and looking for asylum in others. That is really sick, but it’s happening.
Sitting in the Oval Office today we have a felon who is reveling in becoming the war president. He is taking the United States down an incredibly dangerous path, threatening our own citizens with violence here at home, and doing the same to our allies around the world. He, and the incompetents and fascists surrounding him, need to be stopped. If there are any decent Republican members of Congress left, they need to join with Democrats, and the voters, to stop him.
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
January arrives with optimism. New year energy. Fresh possibilities. A belief that this could finally be the year things change. And every January, I watch people respond to that optimism the same way. By adding.
More workouts. More structure. More goals. More commitments. More pressure to transform. We add healthier meals. We add more family time. We add more career focus. We add more boundaries. We add more growth. Somewhere along the way, transformation becomes a list instead of a direction.
But what no one talks about enough is this: You can only receive what you actually have space for. You don’t have unlimited energy. You have 100 percent. That’s it. Not 120. Not 200. Not grind harder and magically find more.
Your body knows this even if your calendar ignores it. Your nervous system knows it even if your ambition doesn’t want to admit it. When you try to pour more into a cup that’s already full, something spills. Usually it’s your peace. Or your consistency. Or your health.
What I’ve learned over time is that most people don’t need more motivation. They need clarity. Not more goals, but priority. Not more opportunity, but discernment.
So this January, instead of asking what you’re going to add, I want to offer something different. What if this year becomes a season of no.
No to things that drain you. No to things that distract you. No to things that look good on paper but don’t feel right in your body. And to make this real, here’s how you actually do it.
Identify your one true priority and protect it
Most people struggle with saying no because they haven’t clearly said yes to anything first. When everything matters, nothing actually does. Pick one priority for this season. Not 10. One. Once you identify it, everything else gets filtered through that lens. Does this support my priority, or does it compete with it?
Earlier this year, I had two leases in my hands. One for Shaw and one for National Landing in Virginia. From the outside, the move felt obvious. Growth is celebrated. Expansion is rewarded. More locations look like success. But my gut and my nervous system told me I couldn’t do both.
Saying no felt like failure at first. It felt like I was slowing down when I was supposed to be speeding up. But what I was really doing was choosing alignment over optics.
I knew what I was capable of thriving in. I knew my limits. I knew my personal life mattered. My boyfriend mattered. My family mattered. My physical health mattered. My mental health mattered. Looking back now, saying no was one of the best decisions I could have made for myself and for my team.
If something feels forced, rushed, or misaligned, trust that signal. If it’s meant for you, it will come back when the timing is right.
Look inside before you look outside
So many of us are chasing who we think we’re supposed to be— who the city needs us to be. Who social media rewards. Who our resume says we should become next. But clarity doesn’t come from noise. It comes from stillness. Moments of silence. Moments of gratitude. Moments where your nervous system can settle. Your body already knows who you are long before your ego tries to upgrade you.
One of the most powerful phrases I ever practiced was simple: You are enough.
I said it for years before I believed it. And when I finally did, everything shifted. I stopped chasing growth just to prove something. I stopped adding just to feel worthy. I could maintain. I could breathe. I could be OK where I was.
Gerard from Baltimore was enough. Anything else I added became extra.
Turning 40 made this clearer than ever. My twenties were about finding myself. My thirties were about proving myself. My forties are about being myself.
I wish I knew then what I know now. I hope the 20 year olds catch it early. I hope the 30 year olds don’t wait as long as I did.
Because the only way to truly say yes to yourself is by saying no first.
Remove more than you add
Before you write your resolutions, try this. If you plan to add three things this year, identify six things you’re willing to remove. Habits. Distractions. Commitments. Energy leaks.
Maybe growth doesn’t look like expansion for you this year. Maybe it looks like focus. Maybe it looks like honoring your limits. January isn’t asking you to become superhuman. It’s asking you to become intentional. And sometimes the most powerful word you can say for your future is no.
With love always, Coach G.
Gerard Burley, also known as Coach G, is founder and CEO of Sweat DC.
