Opinions
I survived Pulse and am ready to March For Our Lives
Parkland students need our help to defeat NRA

It’s been nearly two years since the massacre at Pulse in Orlando. (Washington Blade photo by Michael K. Lavers)
It has been nearly two years since the worst night of my life. On June 12, 2016, a gunman entered Pulse Nightclub in Orlando, just a few yards from the bathroom where I stood, and opened fire. What at first sounded like a music malfunction turned out to be gunshots. Armed with an assault rifle and countless rounds of ammunition, the shooter killed 49 people, including my best friends, Drew Leinonen and Juan Guerrero.
For the past 20 months, I have committed myself to saving this country from gun violence. At first, my involvement felt like a coincidence. I instantly became an unwitting voice for other survivors and victims of mass shootings across America. But as the weeks went on, my voice and message steadied. I railed angrily on a broken political system that would cast aside mass violence as a pop culture phenomenon. I called out lawmakers that leveraged Orlando’s pain to get a leg up on the campaign competition. And I begged for legislation that would stop these things from happening again. I felt an obligation, a responsibility to keep those 49 Pulse victims from dying in vain. I felt challenged to ensure that Drew’s voice didn’t die on the dance floor with him.
That’s why the news of a shooting in Parkland, Fla., felt like a gut punch. In one instant, all the pain and trauma of Pulse came flooding back and I wondered if I had failed those students. I considered the hours spent fighting for change and wondered if it had all been in vain. I wondered if I had let Drew down once again.
Then a miraculous thing happened: the survivors from Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School opened my eyes. The first time I met these students, I was saddled with my sense of failure and regret. I stood with half a dozen of them and tried to think of words of encouragement to share. But I was speechless. How could I possibly have anything to share when, after 18 months of work, I had come up empty? How could I look them in the eyes when I had failed them, just like so many others before me? And just when my silence turned to discomfort, that incredible group of students locked themselves in a hug around me and told me that things would be alright.
That is why March For Our Lives is so important. And it’s the reason I will be in Washington, D.C. marching alongside the incredible students from Marjory Stoneman Douglas. They have gathered around the people of this country, wrapped in a big group hug, and reminded us that the future is still bright. In one month, these teenagers have taken on one of the most polarizing issues in our nation’s history, amassed a social media army, and threatened the very existence of the gun lobby that currently cripples our political system. But they cannot win this battle alone. Where I once grappled with grief and regret, I am now filled with hope and determination. When this new community of survivors takes to the streets to demand justice, we must all be there to lift them up, clear their path, and protect them from the pitfalls ahead.
The LGBTQ community has seen more than its share of horror and pain. All too often, we are the targets of violence and hatred. But what the Pulse shooting taught me is that we are not victims, we are warriors. And just like so often before, it is our duty to take to the front lines of progress and fight for the change this country deserves; this time with new allies by our side. See you on March 24 when we March For Our Lives.
Brandon Wolf is vice president of TheDruProject. Reach him via thedruproject.org.
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.
Greenland
The Greenland lesson for LGBTQ people
Playbook is the same for our community and Europeans
I understand my own geopolitical limits and don’t pretend to know how Europeans should respond to U.S. threats to seize Greenland or retaliate against anyone who opposes them. However, as I mentioned in March, it’s clear that for Europeans and LGBTQ+ people alike, hug-and-kiss diplomacy is over.
In practice, that means responding to the U.S. administration’s provocations with dialogue, human‑rights rhetoric, and reasoning may now be counterproductive. It looks weak. At some point, Europeans will have to draw a line and show how bullying allies and breaking international agreements carry a cost — and that the cost is unpredictable. On the surface, they have few options; like LGBTQ+ communities, they are very behind in raw power and took too long to wake up. But they still have leverage, and they can still inflict harm.
Maybe it is time for them to call the bluff. America has a great deal to lose, not least its reputation and credibility on the world stage. Stephen Miller and Pete Hegseth, with all their bravado, obviously underestimate both the short‑ and long‑term geopolitical price of ridicule. Force the United States to contemplate sending troops into an ally’s territory, and let the consequences play out in international opinion, institutions, and markets.
In the United States, LGBTQ+ communities have already endured a cascade of humiliations and live under constant threat of more. In 2025 our symbols and heroes were systematically erased or defaced: the USNS Harvey Milk was quietly renamed after a straight war hero, Admiral Rachel Levine’s title and image were scrubbed from official materials, Pride flags were banned from public buildings, World AIDS Day events were defunded or stripped of queer content, the Orlando memorial and other sites of mourning were targeted, the U.S. lead a campaign against LGBTQ+ language at the U.N., and rainbow crosswalks were literally ripped up or painted over. We cannot simply register our distress; we must articulate a response.
In practice, that means being intentional and focused. We should select a few unmistakable examples: a company that visibly broke faith with us, a vulnerable political figure whose actions demand consequences, and an institution that depends on constituencies that still need us. The tools matter less than the concentration of force — boycotts, shaming, targeted campaigning all qualify — so long as crossing certain lines produces visible, memorable costs.
A friend suggested we create what he called a “c***t committee.” I liked the discipline it implies: a deliberate, collective decision to carefully select a few targets and follow through. We need a win badly in 2026.
These thoughts are part of a broader reflection on the character of our movement I’d like to explore in the coming months. My friends know that anger and sarcasm carried me for a long time, but eventually delivered diminishing returns. I am incrementally changing these aspects of my character that stand in the way of my goals. The movement is in a similar place: the tactics that served us best are losing effectiveness because the terrain has shifted. The Greenland moment clarifies that we must have a two-pronged approach: building long-term power and, in the short term, punching a few people in the nose.
