Opinions
2016: From the Best to the Worst
Perseverance is the price of freedom


The Pulse nightclub (Washington Blade photo by Michael K. Lavers)
On Sunday morning, June 12, I arrived on Pennsylvania Avenue to set up my group’s Capital Pride table and learned the awful news of the Pulse nightclub massacre. That Sunday night, the Tony Awards were dedicated to the victims, and the company of Hamilton performed the Battle of Yorktown without muskets.
2016 was the year of Hamilton, of Moonlight, and of the National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC). It was the year of Pulse. It was the year of Standing Rock. It was the year President Obama made a healing visit to Hiroshima. It was the year North Carolina Gov. Pat McCrory was defeated by his own homophobic and transphobic policies. It was the year that saw the rise of Trump. At its end, America stood on a precipice.
It was the year a black gay man, Eugene J. Coleman, was Class President and First Captain at West Point, only the third man ever to hold both titles. The anti-gay right may seek to reverse open military service; but overreach is a classic blunder that will be the right’s undoing. Coleman represents “the normative power of the actual,” as former Solicitor General Walter Dellinger put it in 2011 in criticizing Cardinal Timothy Dolan’s ferocious opposition to New York’s passage of civil marriage equality. As on that front, experience dispelled the fears.
In Annapolis last spring I saw two young men from the Naval Academy holding hands. Our integration into military culture has sunk deep roots. Those who would reverse it are rebelling against the classic virtues of honor and merit. Like most federal courts on marriage after Windsor, the military is on our side, notwithstanding the Kremlin Stooge’s gang of retired crackpot generals.
If, like the white urban hipsters mocked by Dave Chappelle and Chris Rock on Saturday Night Live, you think the 2016 election is the worst thing ever to happen in America, spend a few hours in NMAAHC. The artifacts there attest to a long, heroic struggle by African Americans against erasure. Before these precious objects could grace Lonnie Bunch’s triumphant museum, they had to be passed down by many generations.
“We have seen worse” is a refrain heard from many African Americans since Election Day. That practical wisdom is the bulwark of our republic, whose strength lies in the very diversity that our president-elect has done his best to splinter. The imagination to stand in another’s shoes cannot be imposed by any law nor defeated by any strongman. It lies at the beating heart of the American experiment.
On December 13, Rachel Maddow interviewed Attorney General Loretta Lynch in the Stonewall Inn. Stonewall did not mark the beginning of the LGBT rights movement; Frank Kameny’s fight against the D.C. vice squad preceded it, as did the riot at Compton’s Cafeteria in San Francisco. But Stonewall was a key flashpoint, and now it is a national monument. Lynch said that the bar and the events it commemorates are emblematic of the struggles of many groups for equality. A monument designation may be revoked, but the notion that such an action erases us is like someone who stops pointing at the moon and thinks the moon thereby disappears.
Tarell Alvin McCraney’s original title for Moonlight was “In Moonlight Black Boys Look Blue.” His storytelling and eye for detail gave director Barry Jenkins, cinematographer James Laxton, and talented actors a wealth of insights to work with; and it was made for far less money than the polished results would suggest. Moonlight is being touted for best movie of the year. McCraney was recently appointed chair of the playwriting program at his alma mater, Yale School of Drama. Talent, skill, perseverance, and an ability to sell your ideas can take you far.
As with playwriting, so with politics. Withdrawal and despair are out of the question. We must stay in the game, and continue telling our stories, and building and rebuilding alliances. At a crucial moment in Moonlight, the teenaged Chiron fights back. That can come at a price, to be sure. What price are we willing to pay to defend our communities, our lives, and our country? That is for each of us to answer.
Richard J. Rosendall is a writer and activist. He can be reached at [email protected].
Copyright © 2016 by Richard J. Rosendall. All rights reserved.

I thought of titling this “A long way from WorldPride” to contrast the struggles of displaced LGBTQ+ people in Kenya with the recent celebrations in Washington. But that would miss the real story.
The United States is facing a concerted right-wing effort to erase and disenfranchise minorities in the name of fighting “wokeness,” a term used to disrespect the diversity of America’s population. The phrase “DEI hires” [referring to diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives] is used mockingly to pretend that no person of color or other minority is ever qualified for any job.
Meanwhile, my friend Rosamel, a trans woman who runs a safe house in Nairobi, is the very embodiment of pride under pressure. The two-dozen residents of the house include several orphaned children of queer folk. After Rosamel was hospitalized for days due to an injury and tetanus, the children have taken to sleeping next to her and following her around because they are afraid of losing her.
If that is not family, there is none. Those who use the claim that God created two and only two sexes as justification for denying legal protections to gender-non-conforming people need to take off their blinders and see the greater complexity of God’s creation.
Whether right-wing culture warriors recognize it or not, God created intersex people and people whose brain chemistry tells them their gender is different from what was assigned at birth.
The phrase “biological males” is routinely used by people on the right in a way that reduces biology to genitalia. Perhaps even more egregiously, many in the news media uncritically accept the right-wing vocabulary.
Thus our struggle continues. We still have work to do to build and honor what many good people of faith call the Beloved Community.
I attended the WorldPride Human Rights Conference in Washington featuring delegates from across the globe. Being surrounded by so many smart, dedicated activists was invigorating despite my suffering from stress and lack of sleep.
The final session at the conference was a conversation with the Congressional Equality Caucus. One of the panelists, Rep. Becca Balint (D) of Vermont, said, regarding right-wing threats to roll back LGBTQ+ progress, that she is a glass-half-full kind of person.
She is right. We could easily sink into despair, given the aggressive attacks on our community. But we must not let the haters rob us of our joy nor deflect us from our purpose.
Before the panel began, I spoke with moderator Eugene Daniels of MSNBC, an openly gay journalist who is president of the White House Correspondents Association. I thanked him for his fearlessness and excellence.
A friend told me that he didn’t care to emulate Eugene’s fashion-forward style nor his use nail polish. But my point in praising Eugene is not that all of us should try to be him. We are a diverse people. It is rather his poise and self-confidence that deserve emulation.
Eugene’s mother told him when he was younger, “You belong in whatever room you find yourself.” Yes.
The threats to LGBTQ+ people around the globe are real and daunting. But we have one another, and the examples set by those who came before us. We also have the wisdom of those children in Nairobi, who needed no one to tell them who loves and cares for them.
I raised money to pay for repairs to the safe house, and for the walking sticks Rosamel required after her injury. The need among these displaced people is always greater than the capacity of the handful of donors. More non-governmental organizations are needed to help those forced to flee their homes and countries because of unscrupulous politicians and clergy who scapegoat them for problems they had no part in causing.
Eugene Daniels was motivated to come out after the Pulse Nightclub murders in 2016. He didn’t want to die with no one knowing his true self.
By contrast, Utah state legislator Trevor Lee (R) backs HB 77, a measure to ban Pride flags in schools and local government buildings, with an amendment allowing Nazi and Confederate flags for “educational purposes.”
We must join forces to beat back the evil nonsense currently proliferating.
To find role models, we have only to look around us and around the world. Rosamel and Eugene did not wait for permission to step up and lead.
To quote a wise ancient man whose teaching is routinely ignored by the hatemongers on the so-called Christian right: “Go thou and do likewise.”
Richard J. Rosendall is a D.C.-based writer and former president of the Gay & Lesbian Activists Alliance.
Opinions
If you are sick, or old, maybe don’t run for Congress
We need to let younger candidates run for office

I am sure I will be called heartless after people read this column. But I have come to believe that if you are sick, or old, maybe you should not run for Congress. We now have three open Democratic seats in the House of Representatives. They are open because two members over 70, who had been diagnosed with cancer before the election, decided they had to run anyway. They won, but have since passed away early in their term. The other death was a congressperson who decided it was appropriate to run for his first term at the age of 70.
I understand what being older means, and also what a cancer diagnosis is. I am fortunate and have survived three different cancers. It is also true, anyone, at any age, can die. Just listen to Joni Ernst (R-Iowa) who told her constituents they will die anyway so why worry about her voting to cut their Medicaid. But seriously, these three men should definitely have considered not running. They should have allowed a younger man, or woman, to run for what are considered safe Democratic seats. Just recently, Speaker Johnson got his ‘beautiful bill,’ actually a really disgusting bill, the one the felon in the White House is asking Congress to pass, through the House by only one vote. Just think if we had three more votes against it.
Again, each of those seats is considered pretty safe for Democrats. In recent years we have seen Sen. Diane Feinstein (D-Calif.) hold onto her seat for much too long, and then there is the Republican congresswoman who was still in the House but missing votes, who they found was living in an assisted senior living center. Her son admitted she had issues with dementia. I have to mention here, it’s not only members of Congress, but those in statehouses, and even presidents, who need to know when it is time to move on.
Running while ill is not a new phenomenon. I first saw this back in 1972, when Congressman William Fitz Ryan (D-N.Y.) had his district combined with that of Congresswoman Bella S. Abzug (D-N.Y.), based on the 1970 census. Bella decided to challenge him in the primary, and he decided to run even though he had cancer, hiding how serious it was. He won the primary against her, and then died before the general election. Bella became the Democratic candidate and won the election. There were those at the time who accused her of killing him by running against him. An outrageous accusation, the facts being he should never have run. So again, this is not something new. But I believe if Democrats want to attract more young people into politics, we need to think about this. In 2018, I wrote about term limits and retirement at 80 for the Congress and the Supreme Court. I still believe that. I am not mentioning names here, as I believe it is really a very personal thing for those who run for office. How they see their life after serving, if they are running for reelection, or what they think they can accomplish at an older age if they get elected for the first time.
Some may have read the column I wrote recently chastising David Hogg for how he is handling his PAC. I don’t disagree with his vision of supporting young people to run for state legislatures, and the Congress. I am all for that. My problem with David is how he is doing it.
We live in a difficult world, and the felon in the White House, his MAGA cult, and his sycophants in Congress, are only making things more difficult for everyone. My generation of Democrats has done many good things, and we have moved the country forward in many ways. Until Trump, we were moving forward on equality, and climate change, among so many other issues. We recognize we have a global economy, and that is good. But it is clear we have left many things undone, and faced a backlash, which brought us Trump and his MAGA cult.
So, today we need the younger generation, who are inheriting this world, to step up and take a role in running it. We need to be willing to step aside when it’s time. We can act as advisers and supporters for the younger generation. We can help them raise funds, and work to get them elected. We should always be available if they ask for help, but it is time we got out of their way when it comes to running for elective office.
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
Opinions
Pride and protests: a weekend full of division

While many Angelenos celebrated the 55th annual L.A. Pride and mainstream news outlets like ABC7 and FOX11 news covered the celebrations, the reality for many other Angelenos involved tear gas, rubber bullets, and breaking news coverage from community outlets like CALÓ News.
If we were to take a step back into the history of Pride, we would be angered by the amount of violence and pain that led to the protests on the dawn of June 28, 1969. The Stonewall uprising took place as a result of police raids at the now-infamous Stonewall Inn on Christopher Street in New York City. That night that has gone down in history as a canon event for queer and trans life, started when police raided the Stonewall Inn and arrested multiple people. The arrests and the police brutality involved, led to an uprising that lasted a total of six days.
Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera were credited as being the first people in that historical moment, to start the movement we now know and celebrate as Pride. They were brown, beautiful, people who transformed our notions of fear and action. Wherein, we must act in order to not live in fear. The people at the Stonewall Inn on that night in June all those years ago, and all of the queer and trans people now, have something deeply unsettling in common.
We both live in a constant state of fear and anxiety.
We live in such a major state of fear, that anxiety, depression and other mental health issues — including substance abuse disorders — tend to be particularly prevalent in the LGBTQ community. According to Mass Gen, the U.S. is facing a mental health crisis. Nearly 40 percent of the LGBTQ population in the U.S. reported experiencing mental illness last year. That figure is around 5.8 million people.
Pride began as the very type of protest that went on this past weekend over the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids where people have now been taken into custody, reporters have been shot with rubber bullets and tear-gassed, and where union president David Huerta was taken into custody and allegedly charged with federal conspiracy charges.
Over the weekend, I celebrated Pride. I admittedly celebrated being queer, while my other communities experienced fear in the face of arrests, tear gas to the eyes and baton blows to the head.
I am a proud child of immigrants. My mother is Colombian and migrated here in the early 80’s, settled down in West L.A and built a life with children, houses and her religious community.
My father migrated here in the mid-to-late 80’s from Mexico, where he and his family were hardworking farmers. He has worked at his job without rest, for over 35 years. He raised the ranks from line worker, to general manager. He does not miss work. He follows every rule and he is never late. Both are documented, but only because of luck and the ease of getting papers back when there weren’t so many bureaucratic steps to gaining citizenship or a green card legally.
My parents and their extended family are proof of a now-distant American dream. One in which we gain status, we become homeowners, business owners, have children and send them off to college to learn things that those parents can’t even imagine.
Though they did the best they could, my parents had other challenges and barriers to their success. So I did it for them. I did it for all of us.
My road to where I am now was paved with uncertainty, food insecurity, homelessness, and many other factors that pushed and pulled me back. The analogy I can think of to accurately compare myself to, is a powerful catapult. I was pulled down with weights that added on more and more, until one day I catapulted forward into the life I now have the privilege to live. Though I still struggle in many ways, it is the first time in my life that I am not on survival mode. It’s the first time in my life that I get to exist as a queer person who can enjoy life, build a friend group, establish deep connections with people. It’s also the first time I get to enjoy Pride as someone who is single and who has spent the past 18 months healing from my Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE’s) and from my last relationship.
It was the first time in my life as a lesbian whose been out for over a decade, that I truly planned to enjoy Pride with my groups of friends.
While I was there this weekend, my internal battle started and I felt torn between celebrating my life and my queerness, and covering the ICE raid protests happening not too far from Sunset Blvd.
What I didn’t expect, was to see so many other people at Pride, completely oblivious and completely disconnected from the history of Pride, instead glorifying corporate brands and companies that have remained silent over LGBTQ issues, while others have gone as far as rolling back their Diversity, Equity and Inclusion motions.
If Marsha P. Johnson or Sylvia Rivera were there in that moment, they would have convinced us to merge our Pride celebration with the protests. They would have rallied us all to join forces and in the spirit of Pride, we would have marched for our immigrant community members, fighting for their right to due process.
I’m not sure if I made the right decision or not, but the next 60 days will say a lot about every single one of us. We will have to learn when to act, how to react and when to find pockets of joy to celebrate in, because those moments are also acts of resistance.
The Trump administration vowed to strip away rights and has made it their mission to incite violence, fear and anxiety among all working class, BIPOC and LGBTQ people, so it is important now more than ever to unite and show up for each other, whether you’re at a Pride celebration or a protest.
Juneteenth is coming up soon and I hope to see more of us rally around our BIPOC brothers, sisters and siblings to not only fight for our rights, but to continue celebrating ourselves and each other.
In the words of Marsha P. Johnson: “There is no pride for some of us, without liberation for all of us.”
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