Opinions
Loneliness fuels isolation, drives violent behavior
Let’s commit to creating a world of belonging to keep us whole

Erin Uritus (Photo courtesy of Uritus)
On the morning before the Parkland shooting, my 6-year-old daughter had a fire drill at school — her class lined up neatly outside as the building was cleared for safety. When she got home she told me she doesn’t mind fire drills so much but that the really scary drills are the ones where they don’t go outside. Tears welled up in my eyes as she described the drills where they have to hide under their desks or in the closets — she said she doesn’t really understand them, but she knows it’s about someone from the outside trying to hurt her.
We are in a national crisis. I am grateful for the people and organizations demanding sensible gun laws – something long overdue—and I am, like all of us ought to, doing self-reflection about what my part is in putting an end to these tragedies.
My life’s work, at its heart, is focused on solving the problem of loneliness. Loneliness fuels isolation, it feeds pain, it is the driver of irrational and violent behavior. Loneliness at its very worst tells us that there is no one else out there, that our only hope for fullness is lashing out. Of course, all of us have felt lonely at times and of course, very few of us have acted out in violent ways, but if we can solve this for everyone, no matter how deep or shallow the feeling might run, I believe we will transform our society into one in which our children aren’t having to prepare for school shooters between math and recess. And to create that transformation, it’s key we understand what we’re facing.
We’ve learned loneliness is not about social isolation, which means it’s harder to spot in both directions — people can be quite fulfilled alone and not feel lonely and people can be entrenched in community and still report loneliness. In fact, a study at UCSF found that the majority of people who are lonely are married and live with others. And here’s what was so worrying to me — an analytic study that drew in the experiences of more than 3 million people, found loneliness peaks in young adults. And young adults or millennials make up the largest portion of our population and in the coming years, the biggest demographic in our workforce.
And loneliness is not just a problem, it’s an epidemic. What may have been considered a concept that once lived on the pages of a meditation blog has become a serious and evidence-based area of research with half a dozen Harvard Business Review articles focused on our national wave of loneliness. Here’s what we know: 40 percent of adults in America are lonely (and that’s self-reported so we can be fairly certain it’s actually much higher) and that loneliness reduces our lives as if we were smoking 15 cigarettes a day. Imagine someone you love was smoking nearly a pack of cigarettes a day, would you talk to them about it? If it was 40 percent of the people you knew, would you think we ought to collectively talk to them?
The ability to be our authentic selves and to see others as theirs is the antidote to loneliness. When we’re the truest versions of who we are and we’re welcomed and included because of that, it is all but impossible to muster up a lonely feeling. My organization works with our country’s largest companies and government Employee Resource Groups to create workplaces where all of us are encouraged to be our authentic selves and all of us are included. And when we’re successful in that work, what starts out as a series of handbook policies and checked boxes gets reborn as belonging. And belonging is our holy grail.
One of my heroes, Brene Brown, reminds us that it’s harder to hate close up, that we need to move in. Go to work and move in. Encourage your children to find someone they don’t like at school and move in. Let’s, as a country, move in. Because this is not a problem that will be fixed on Capitol Hill or in a boardroom or on television—we need Congress to pass gun laws that will keep us safe, and we need all of us to commit to co-creating a world of belonging to keep us whole.
Erin Uritus is the CEO of Out & Equal Workplace Advocates, the world’s premier nonprofit dedicated to achieving global LGBTQ workplace equality. She is a longtime executive with experience in corporate, non-profit and government sectors.
Commentary
Second ‘lavender scare’ is harming our veterans. We know how to fix it
Out in National Security has built Trans Veterans State and Local Policy Toolkit
Seventy years after the first “lavender scare” drove LGBTQ Americans from public service, a second version is taking shape. Executive directives and administrative reviews have targeted transgender servicemembers and veterans, producing a new wave of quiet separations and lost benefits.
The policy language is technical, but the result is personal. Veterans who served honorably now face disrupted healthcare, delayed credentials, or housing barriers that no act of Congress ever required. Once again, Americans who met every standard of service are being told that their identity disqualifies them from stability.
Out in National Security built the Trans Veterans State and Local Policy Toolkit to change that. The toolkit gives state and local governments a practical path to repair harm through three measurable actions.
First, continuity of care. States can keep veterans covered by adopting presumptive Medicaid eligibility, aligning timelines with VA enrollment, and training providers in evidence-based gender-affirming care following the World Professional Association for Transgender Health Standards of Care Version 8.
Second, employment, and licensing. Governors and boards can recognize Department of Defense credentials, expedite licensing under existing reciprocity compacts, and ensure nondiscrimination in state veterans’ employment statutes.
Third, housing stability. States can designate transgender-veteran housing liaisons, expand voucher access, and enforce fair-housing protections that already exist in law.
Each step can be taken administratively within 90 days and requires no new federal legislation. The goal is straightforward: small, state-level reforms that yield rapid, measurable improvement in veterans’ daily lives.
The toolkit was introduced during a Veterans Week event hosted by the Center for American Progress, where federal and state leaders joined Out in National Security to highlight the first wave of state agencies adopting its recommendations. The discussion underscored how targeted, administrative reforms can strengthen veterans’ healthcare, employment, and housing outcomes without new legislation. Full materials and implementation resources are now available at outinnationalsecurity.org/public-policy/toolkit, developed in partnership with Minority Veterans of America, the Modern Military Association of America, SPARTA Pride, and the Human Rights Campaign.
These are technical fixes, but they carry moral weight. They reaffirm a basic democratic promise: service earns respect, not suspicion.
As a policy professional who has worked with veterans across the country, I see this moment as a test of civic integrity. The measure of a democracy is not only who it allows to serve but how it treats them afterward.
The second “lavender scare” will end when institutions at every level decide that inclusion is an obligation, not an exception. The toolkit offers a way to begin.
For more information or to access the toolkit once it is public, visit outinnationalsecurity.org/toolkit.
Lucas F. Schleusener is the CEO of Out in National Security.
For years, the far right has relied on a familiar infrastructure to wage its political battles: coordinated legal networks, back-channeled money, and an ever-growing pipeline of model legislation that moves quietly from one statehouse to another. What used to be a fringe ecosystem of activist lawyers has matured into something far more muscular. Today, the attacks on LGBTQ Americans—especially transgender people—are not random. They are designed, drafted, and deployed by a disciplined constellation of groups that understand how to move legislation with precision. And if Democrats, civil rights advocates, and national LGBTQ organizations continue treating each bill as an isolated outrage rather than a unified offensive, this machine will keep outpacing them.
Most Americans have never heard of outfits like the Alliance Defending Freedom, the American Principles Project, the Leadership Institute’s law arm, or the network of state-based policy shops that orbit the Heritage Foundation. But these entities now function as the shadow authors of state legislation. The anti-trans sports bans that appeared in more than 20 states did not arise organically; they were cloned from drafts circulated by ADF attorneys. The same is true for bills restricting gender-affirming care, limiting name and pronoun accommodations in schools, or expanding “religious liberty” carve-outs that allow discrimination against LGBTQ employees or customers. Legislators often change a few words, swap in a local sponsor, and reintroduce the same provisions session after session — giving the impression of momentum when, in reality, only a handful of ideologues are writing the nation’s culture-war script.
The operational model is simple: produce a bill, partner with a state-level think tank, recruit a legislator to introduce it, and provide legal testimony to defend it. But the strategic sophistication lies upstream. These groups have spent years cultivating relationships with attorneys general, state solicitors, and conservative judges who are sympathetic to their worldview. They draft legislation with litigation in mind, anticipating which language will survive scrutiny before the federal courts they have worked diligently to remake. They treat policy, politics, and jurisprudence as a seamless ecosystem; meanwhile, LGBTQ advocates are forced to fight on three fronts at once, often with smaller budgets and no comparable network of state-by-state affiliates.
What is most striking now is the acceleration. Bills that used to be test-driven in one or two states are being introduced in a dozen simultaneously. After the Supreme Court’s Dobbs decision, the same legal strategists pushing abortion bans pivoted almost immediately toward restricting trans health care, framing puberty blockers and hormone therapy as “sterilization.” The rhetorical shift was not accidental. It was a deliberate legal construction designed to open the door to future Fourteenth Amendment challenges, should the movement secure a case capable of reaching the Supreme Court. This is not simply a legislative fight; it is the groundwork for long-term judicial warfare.
And yet, Democrats and even national LGBTQ groups often treat these measures as if they were spontaneous outbursts of local prejudice. That is politically naïve. The reason similar bills appear in Idaho, Florida, Tennessee, Kansas, and Ohio at the same time is because they originate from the same set of PDFs stored on the same servers belonging to the same legal networks. The far right has embraced an industrial model of anti-LGBTQ policymaking: mass production, rapid deployment, and coordinated amplification by media channels that echo the same talking points across state lines.
The consequence is that the burden falls on queer people themselves—especially trans people—to respond to an avalanche of bills, hearings, lawsuits, and administrative changes that no individual or small advocacy team can fully track. When you have a network of attorneys feeding language to legislators, drafting amicus briefs, and preparing future litigation strategies in advance, you create an asymmetry that is difficult to counter with reactive press releases or one-off legal challenges. This imbalance of power is not about public opinion, which still supports LGBTQ equality by wide margins. It is about institutional positioning. The far right has placed its lawyers where the pressure points are: in state AG offices, in coordinated legislative caucuses, in judicial clerkships, and in the nonprofit legal trenches where issue fights are shaped long before the public hears about them.
There is a path forward, but it requires abandoning the old model of treating each bill as a separate emergency. LGBTQ organizations need a unified, long-range strategy that mirrors the discipline of the groups attacking them. That means state-by-state legal surveillance, rapid drafting of counter-model legislation, formal partnerships with progressive state AGs, and a standing litigation coalition capable of anticipating—not just responding to—legal threats. It also means investing in local leaders who understand that these bills are symptoms of a national machine, not quirks of their hometown politics.
What’s at stake here is nothing less than the architecture of civil rights in the United States. The far right is attempting to rewrite the legal landscape through volume and repetition, hoping courts will eventually treat these contrived bills as reflections of a shifting national consensus. They are betting that if they introduce enough legislation, in enough states, for enough years, the judiciary will reinterpret LGBTQ equality not as a settled constitutional principle but as a contested social question that can be narrowed or rolled back. Their ultimate goal is not just to restrict trans rights today but to lay the doctrinal groundwork for limiting LGBTQ protections for a generation.
The community can still win this fight, but only if it sees the battlefield clearly. These bills are not local skirmishes—they are coordinated acts of legal engineering. And it is time the pro-equality movement built an equally coordinated system to match them.
Isaac Amend is a writer based in the D.C. area. He is a transgender man and was featured in National Geographic’s ‘Gender Revolution’ documentary. He serves on the board of the LGBT Democrats of Virginia. Contact him on Instagram at @isaacamend
Opinions
Everything is Everything
Transformer’s 21st Annual Benefit Art Auction & Gala at the LINE DC November 19, 2025
In Washington, DC, art has never existed in isolation—it thrives where people gather and create. Art isn’t an accessory to the city’s identity—it’s foundational to it. This city was designed by artists, built by craftsmen, and has been continuously shaped by creative vision for more than two centuries. While other American cities grew organically around commerce or geography, Washington was imagined first, drawn by hand, and constructed as a deliberate artistic expression of democratic ideals. The result is a living gallery where public art doesn’t just reflect our history; it actively shapes how we understand citizenship, memory, and identity.
For 23 years, Transformer has been a cornerstone of DC’s contemporary art scene, committed to uplifting emerging and underrepresented artists who challenge boundaries and engage audiences with new experimental artistic concepts. On November 22, 2025, Transformer will host Everything is Everything, our 21st Annual Benefit Art Auction & Gala at the LINE DC, a night dedicated to celebrating the power of connection through art, performance, and community.
Everything is Everything is an extension of our non-profit organization’s cutting-edge vision, bringing together artists across different mediums, aesthetics, and walks of life. This philosophy embraces interconnectedness: where art, identity, and community are a part of the same living fabric. The gala brings together hundreds of people to celebrate art & artists, featuring over 140+ artworks in a public exhibition available for silent bidding. Guests also enjoy our innovative Artist Activated Experiences Lounge, featuring immersive installations by DC based queer artists Bumper, Katie Magician, Div0id, JaxKnife Complex, Stitches DC, Hennessey and Kunj.
In a time when queer and drag performers face renewed cultural and legislative attacks, Everything is Everything affirms that freedom of expression is not optional—it’s essential. Our “Celebration of DC Club Kids” pays tribute to DC’s legendary Club Kids and nightlife culture—those radiant spaces that have long nurtured queer creativity, self-expression, and freedom. Produced at the Gala in collaboration with queer artist collective haus of bambi, this performance honors our city’s history while celebrating the diversity and creativity that will continue to shape its future. Everything is Everything culminates in a show-stopping performance by iconic New York City based performance artist, cabaret singer, and drag artist Joey Arias.
As Transformer’s Everything is Everything Gala Committee, we’ve experienced firsthand how artists in DC transform spaces, challenge norms, and build community. The Gala is a celebration of that creativity and resilience. It is also a crucial act of support: proceeds from the Everything is Everything Benefit Art Auction & Gala directly supports artists while sustaining Transformer’s year-round exhibitions and programs that elevate emerging artists and arts leaders within DC and beyond. In doing so, Everything is Everything ensures that experimental and inclusive artistic practice, particularly of queer, trans, and BIPOC artists, continues to thrive.
Because in DC, art isn’t just something we look at—it’s something we live, share, and fight to protect.
Purchase tickets to Everything is Everything, Transformer’s Annual Benefit Art Auction & Gala at onecau.se/everythingiseverything. Learn more about Transformer’s mission at www.transformerdc.org.
- Transformer’s Everything is Everything Gala Committee: Allana D’Amico, Sondra Fein, Theresa Nielson, Jennifer Sakai, Christopher Addison, Monica Alford, Samantha Dean, Samira Farmer, Carole Feld, Celina Gerbic, Ally Helmers, Allison Marvin, Marissa McBride, Tom Noll, Crystal Patterson, Victoria Reis, Dorothy Stein, Emily Strulson, Gregg Tourville, José Alberto Uclés, and Hanna Thompson
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