Opinions
Renewed hope in India
I now have more explicit legal protections there than here

India’s Supreme Court on Sept. 6, 2018, struck down the country’s colonial-era sodomy law. (Photo by Legaleagle86; courtesy Wikimedia Commons)
When I came out to my dad, one of the first things he said was: “I wonder how many people in our family were gay but couldn’t say anything.”
I once looked through the family tree he has kept for 25 years, scanning seven generations of direct ancestors and distant relatives, wondering whose truth died with them.
During one visit to India, my grandmother took me to visit an old friend of hers. He was smartly dressed and well spoken, the sole occupant of an apartment littered with books and art. As my grandmother explained, he was a “confirmed bachelor” who had never married.
I think of him often. I’ll never know for sure if he was gay or not, but I do know there were generations of gay men in India who only had two options: a marriage based on a lie or a quiet life alone in the closet. And I wonder how different my life would have been if my family had stayed in India instead of immigrating to America when I was three years old. Which option would I have picked?
Thankfully, I had other options. I grew up and came out in an America just beginning to awaken to the cause of LGBTQ equality. I followed Ellen DeGeneres out of the closet and Edie Windsor to the altar. Later, I followed my dreams all the way to Barack Obama’s White House.
For these reasons, among others, I will always be extraordinarily proud to be an American. In no other country is my story – immigrating, coming out, marrying the person I love and starting a family, serving the highest office in the land – even possible.
And yet, that pride has always come with a corresponding set of complicated emotions about India, a deep personal connection tempered by sadness, guilt, and resignation.
Recently, my husband and I have talked about living abroad for a year or two when our daughter is older. In many ways, living in India would be a powerful way to teach her about a country that may not be a part of her genetic makeup but is nonetheless a very real part of who she is, who her appa is, and the values we hope to instill in her.
But every time we talk about it, I rule it out. How could we live as a family – even temporarily, and even with the privilege of American citizenship – in a place where our very relationship is criminal?
All of that changed on Sept. 6, when India’s Supreme Court unanimously struck down Section 377, the provision of the penal code criminalizing homosexuality, and further ruled that discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation is prohibited.
It’s difficult to overstate the importance of this ruling. Not only did Section 377 codify discrimination, it was used for years as a tool by government and police to raid, arrest, and stigmatize queer Indians. In their judgements, the Justices spoke to this long history of oppression, calling Section 377 “irrational, indefensible, and manifestly arbitrary,” speaking to the inherent dignity and equality owed LGBTQ individuals, and calling for full and equal protection under the law – a goal we have yet to attain here in America.
It’s not lost on me that, as a consequence of this historic ruling, I now have more explicit legal protection in the land of my birth than in the land that I love.
That said, this is just the first step. Much like Lawrence paved the way for the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” and the freedom to marry, India too will have to grapple with the meaning and implementation of full equality for its LGBTQ citizens.
But for now, it signals the beginning of an end to loveless marriages and closeted confirmed bachelors. Even more importantly, it shows the way to a future of endless possibilities and unlimited options for future generations of Indians – and Indian Americans.
In January, my husband, daughter, and I will travel to India for a family reunion. In many ways, we will be returning to exactly the same country we’ve visited before. But in one very important way, we will be visiting a new land, with renewed hope for the future.
Gautam Raghavan served as President Obama’s liaison to the LGBTQ and AAPI communities from 2011 to 2014, currently advises the Indian American Impact Project and Biden Foundation, and is the editor of the forthcoming ‘West Wingers: Stories from the Dream Chasers, Change Makers, and Hope Creators Inside the Obama White House’ to be published by Penguin Books on Sept. 25.
Opinions
New research shows coming out is still risky
A time of profound psychological vulnerability
Coming out is often celebrated as a joyful milestone – a moment of truth, pride, and liberation. For many LGBTQ+ people, that’s exactly what it becomes. But new research I co-authored, published in the journal Pediatrics this month, shows that the period surrounding a young person’s first disclosure of their sexual identity is also a time of profound psychological vulnerability. It’s a fragile window we are not adequately protecting.
Using data from a national sample of lesbian, gay, and bisexual people, our study examined what happens in the years before and after someone comes out to a family member or a straight friend. We weren’t looking at broad lifetime trends or comparing LGBTQ+ youth to heterosexual peers. Instead, we looked within each person’s life. We wanted to understand how their own suicide risk changed around the moment they first disclosed who they are.
The results were unmistakable. In the year a person came out, their likelihood of having suicidal thoughts, developing a suicide plan, or attempting suicide increased sharply. Those increases were not small. Suicide planning rose by 10 to 12 percentage points. Suicide attempts increased by 6 percentage points. And the elevated risk didn’t fade quickly. It continued in the years that followed.
I want to be very clear about what these results mean: coming out itself is not the cause of suicidality. The act of disclosure does not harm young people. What harms them is the fear of rejection, the stress of navigating relationships that suddenly feel uncertain, and the emotional fallout when people they love respond with confusion, disapproval, or hostility.
In other words, young LGBTQ+ people are not inherently vulnerable. We make them vulnerable.
And this is happening even as our culture has grown more affirming, at least on the surface. One of the most surprising findings in our study was that younger generations showed larger increases in suicide risk around coming out compared to older generations. These are young people who grew up with marriage equality, LGBTQ+ celebrities, Pride flags in classrooms, and messaging that “it gets better.”
So why are they struggling more?
I think it’s, in part, because expectations have changed. When a young person grows up hearing that their community is increasingly accepted, they may expect support from family and friends. When that support does not come, or comes with hesitation, discomfort, or mixed messages, the disappointment is often devastating. Visibility without security can intensify vulnerability.
Compounding this vulnerability is the broader political environment. Over the last several years, LGBTQ+ youth have watched adults in positions of power debate their legitimacy, restrict their rights, and question their place in schools, sports, and even their own families. While our study did not analyze political factors directly, it is impossible to separate individual experiences from a climate that routinely targets LGBTQ+ young people in legislative hearings, news cycles, and social media.
When you’re 14 or 15 years old and deciding who to tell about your identity, the world around you matters.
But the most important takeaway from our study is this: support is important. The presence, or absence of family acceptance is typically one of the strongest predictors of whether young people thrive after coming out. Research consistently shows that when parents respond with love, curiosity, and affirmation, young people experience better mental health, stronger resilience, and lower suicide risk. When families reject their children, the consequences can be life-threatening.
Support doesn’t require perfect language or expertise. It requires listening. It requires pausing before reacting out of fear or unfamiliarity. It requires recognizing that a young person coming out is not asking you to change everything about your beliefs. They’re asking you to hold them through one of the most vulnerable moments of their life.
Schools, too, have an enormous role to play. LGBTQ+-inclusive curricula, student groups, and clear protections against harassment create safer environments for disclosure.
Health care settings must also do better. Providers should routinely screen for mental health needs among LGBTQ+ youth, especially around the time of identity disclosure, and offer culturally competent care.
And as a community, we need to tell a more honest story about coming out. Yes, it can be liberating. Yes, it can be beautiful. But it can also be terrifying. Instead of pretending it’s always a rainbow-filled rite of passage, we must acknowledge its risks and surround young people with the support they deserve.
Coming out should not be a crisis moment. It should not be a turning point toward despair. If anything, it should be the beginning of a young person’s journey toward authenticity and joy.
That future is possible. But it depends on all of us – parents, educators, clinicians, policymakers, and LGBTQ+ adults ourselves – committing to make acceptance a daily practice.
Young LGBTQ+ people are watching. And in the moment they need us most, they must not fall into silence or struggle alone.
Harry Barbee, Ph.D., is an assistant professor at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health. Their research and teaching focus on LGBTQ+ health, aging, and public policy.
Letter-to-the-Editor
Candidates should pledge to nominate LGBTQ judge to Supreme Court
Presidential, Senate hopefuls need to go on the record
As soon as the final votes are cast and counted and verified after the November 2026 elections are over, the 2028 presidential cycle will begin in earnest. Polls, financial aid requests, and volunteer opportunities ad infinitum will flood the public and personal media. There will be more issues than candidates in both parties. The rending of garments and mudslinging will be both interesting and maybe even amusing as citizens will watch how candidates react to each and every issue of the day.
There is one particular item that I am hoping each candidate will be asked whether in private or in public. If a Supreme Court vacancy occurs in your potential administration, will you nominate an open and qualified LGBTQ to join the remaining eight?
Other interest groups on both sides have made similar demands over the years and have had them honored. Is it not time that our voices are raised as well? There are several already sitting judges on both state and federal benches that have either been elected statewide or approved by the U.S. Senate.
Our communities are being utilized and abused on judicial menus. Enough already! Challenge each and every candidate, regardless of their party with our honest question and see if honest answers are given. By the way … no harm in asking the one-third of the U.S. Senate candidates too who will be on ballots. Looking forward to any candidate tap dancing!
Opinions
2026 elections will bring major changes to D.C. government
Mayor’s office, multiple Council seats up for grabs
Next year will be a banner year for elections in D.C. The mayor announced she will not run. Two Council members, Anita Bonds, At-large, and Brianne Nadeau, Ward 1, have announced they will not run. Waiting for Del. Norton to do the same, but even if she doesn’t, there will be a real race for that office.
So far, Robert White, Council member at-large, and Brooke Pinto, Council member Ward 2, are among a host of others, who have announced. If one of these Council members should win, there would be a special election for their seat. If Kenyon McDuffie, Council member at-large, announces for mayor as a Democrat, which he is expected to do, he will have to resign his seat on the Council as he fills one of the non-Democratic seats there. Janeese George, Ward 4 Council member, announced she is running for mayor. Should she win, there would be a special election for her seat. Another special election could happen if Trayon White, Ward 8, is convicted of his alleged crimes, when he is brought to trial in January. Both the Council chair, and attorney general, have announced they are seeking reelection, along with a host of other offices that will be on the ballot.
Many of the races could look like the one in Ward 1 where at least six people have already announced. They include three members of the LGBTQ community. It seems the current leader in that race is Jackie Reyes Yanes, a Latina activist, not a member of the LGBTQ community, who worked for Mayor Fenty as head of the Latino Affairs Office, and for Mayor Bowser as head of the Office of Community Affairs. About eight, including the two Council members, have already announced they are running for the delegate seat.
I am often asked by candidates for an endorsement. The reason being my years as a community, LGBTQ, and Democratic, activist; and my ability to endorse in my column in the Washington Blade. The only candidate I endorsed so far is Phil Mendelson, for Council chair. While he and I don’t always agree on everything, he’s a staunch supporter of the LGBTQ community, a rational person, and we need someone with a steady hand if there really are six new Council members, out of the 13.
When candidates call, they realize I am a policy wonk. My unsolicited advice to all candidates is: Do more than talk in generalities, be specific and honest as to what you think you can do, if elected. Candidates running for a legislative office, should talk about what bills they will support, and then what new ones they will introduce. What are the first three things you will focus on for your constituents, if elected. If you are running against an incumbent, what do you think you can do differently than the person you hope to replace? For any new policies and programs you propose, if there is a cost, let constituents know how you intend to pay for them. Take the time to learn the city budget, and how money is currently being spent. The more information you have at your fingertips, the smarter you sound, and voters respect that, at least many do. If you are running for mayor, you need to develop a full platform, covering all the issues the city will face, something I have helped a number of previous mayors do. The next mayor will continue to have to deal with the felon in the White House. He/she/they will have to ensure he doesn’t try to eliminate home rule. The next mayor will have to understand how to walk a similar tightrope Mayor Bowser has balanced so effectively.
Currently, the District provides lots of public money to candidates. If you decide to take it, know the details. The city makes it too easy to get. But while it is available, take advantage of it. One new variable in this election is the implementation of rank-choice voting. It will impact how you campaign. If you attack another candidate, you may not be the second, or even third, choice, of their strongest supporters.
Each candidate needs a website. Aside from asking for donations and volunteers, it should have a robust issues section, biography, endorsements, and news. One example I share with candidates is my friend Zach Wahls’s website. He is running for United States Senate from Iowa. It is a comprehensive site, easy to navigate, with concise language, and great pictures. One thing to remember is that D.C. is overwhelmingly Democratic. Chances are the winner of the Democratic primary will win the general election.
Potential candidates should read the DCBOE calendar. Petitions will be available at the Board of Elections on Jan. 23, with the primary on June 16th, and general election on Nov. 3. So, ready, set, go!
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
