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Victory for gay dads is defeat for Trump
Ruling in parentage fight deals blow to State Department policy
Andrew Dvash-Banks and Elad Dvash-Banks always knew they wanted to have a family. They just didn’t know how difficult it would be.
“That was one of the earliest conversations that we had when we first started dating,” Andrew told the Blade days after they won a federal lawsuit over the citizenship of one of their twins. “It’s obviously a very important conversation that any couple has when they start dating, because that could be a deal-breaker. So we were both on the same page about it: we both wanted children.”
Andrew, 38, was an American in Israel pursuing his master’s degree in 2008 when he met Elad, an Israeli, now almost 34. Having a family “was always on the radar,” a goal they knew would only be achievable through alternative reproduction technology.
The couple also knew they wanted to raise their family in California. “The thing that kept us from being with all my family—my parents, my five brothers and sisters, my 14 nieces and nephews—was DOMA (the Defense of Marriage Act),” says Andrew. DOMA was the federal law that prohibited same-sex marriage and thus prevented Andrew from sponsoring his foreign husband in emigrating to America, an automatic right for married heterosexual couples.
After they finished their degrees in 2010, Andrew had to choose between his family in Los Angeles or “being with the man I love. I don’t think anyone should ever have to be in that situation, to have to choose between the two. Obviously, I chose the man I love,” says Andrew. The coupled moved to Toronto in 2010 and got married.
Three years later, after DOMA was overturned, they started the application process for Elad to get a green card. That was finally approved in 2015, so they started to plan their family.
“For same-sex couples, family planning is a different process from different-sex couples,” says Elad. “It requires research, it requires preparation, it requires saving, it requires a lot of things that other couples don’t have to go through.”
They decided on surrogacy that was “all-consuming, mentally, financially, and time-wise,” says Elad. Both contributed genetic materials and subsequently chose “the two highest quality embryos that coincidentally were one from my genetic material and another from Andrew’s genetic material to be used in the pregnancy.”
Aiden and Ethan Dvash-Banks were born four minutes apart in September 2016. Four months later, Andrew and Elad went to the U.S. consulate in Toronto to prepare for their permanent move to LA.
“We came prepared with the boys’ birth certificates—obviously, we are listed on each birth certificate, exclusively, the two of us on each— and all the documents that are required and all the fees to pay,” says Andrew. “We were shocked and baffled and hurt by the response that the State Department official gave us—that she was going to require us to take a DNA test to prove the genetic connection between myself, the American citizen, and both children.”
The official referred to a State Department manual “that interprets the Immigration and Nationality Act and has a biological requirement that does not exist in the actual immigration law,” Elad says, when assisted reproduction technology is involved.
“Her question not only undermined the fact that we are one family, not only created a distinction between both of our kids—that we were legally on their birth certificates from the day that they were born—she also created a distinction between us and other, heterosexual couples, that she would never have asked this question,” says a still angry Elad. “If Andrew and I were a man and a woman, we would show up at a consulate with two beautiful children that have both of our names, on both birth certificates, she would never ask that.”
Elad asked the official directly if she would have required a DNA test of an infertile American man in a heterosexual relationship who used a sperm donor. “It’s at my discretion who I ask for proof of genetic connection,’” Andrew recalls the official saying.
They took the DNA test only to have Aiden granted citizenship and Ethan denied when the results determined that Andrew was not his biological father. However, Ethan was granted a tourist visa that expired last December.
Andrew and Elad Dvash-Banks reached out to Immigration Equality and with the law firm of Sullivan & Cromwell LLP, filed suit against the State Department on Jan. 22, 2018. “The State Department is refusing to acknowledge the citizenship of children whose parents are same-sex married couples. This policy is not only illegal, it is unconstitutional,” Aaron C. Morris, executive director of Immigration Equality and the couples’ attorney, said in a statement. “This action by the State Department disenfranchises children born to bi-national same-sex parents and places an undue burden on their families.”
On Feb. 21, they won. Los Angeles-based District Court Judge John F. Walter wrote in his 11-page ruling that 2-year-old Ethan Dvash-Banks “has been an American citizen since birth.” He also called the State Department official’s interpretation of the citizenship law “strained” at best.
But Walker did not rule on the constitutional merits of the overall State Department policy, making the ruling limited in scope and therefore not necessarily applicable to other families. Immigration Equality is hoping a similar case the advocacy organization filed on the same day and is fighting in Washington on behalf of a lesbian couple living in London will tackle the inequality of the policy’s application to same-sex and heterosexual couples. A judge in that case is considering whether or not the case should be dismissed or go to trial.
Immigration Equality had been working with the Obama administration on updating the policy and Hillary Clinton’s campaign also seemed interested, Morris tells the Blade. When the Trump administration wouldn’t even talk to Immigration Equality, they started looking for alternative ways to help with legal services and advice.
The State Department issued a statement saying “it was reviewing the ruling, but did not respond to questions about what it would mean for the policy going forward,” the New York Times reported. They have 60 days to appeal the ruling.
“I’m an American citizen, my tax dollars are going the State Department. This consulate is representing me and my interests,” says Andrew. “Who are they to turn to me and tell me that my son is not my son? I cut his umbilical cord. I’ve been there since the minute he took his first breath. I’ve changed every poopy diaper. I’m his father. I’m on his birth certificate. Just because I don’t share a genetic connection with him doesn’t make me any less his father than Elad. So it’s very hurtful.”
“I think there’s a fundamental problem with presumption of parentage,” says Elad. “When you see a heterosexual couple with kids, you assume that both of those parents are the genetic parents of those kids. But that might not be correct, and in fact there are many heterosexual couples who are not both genetically related to their kids. In same-sex couples, this presumption does not exist. We don’t enjoy the presumption of parentage because we are in a same-sex relationship. And that is, in our mind, the problem with the distinction that the State Department is making.”
The couple say they feel “so relieved, and so happy, that the court agreed” that Ethan is the same as his twin brother,” says Elad. But “with all the happiness and the joy of the decision, no one can give us back the two years of stress, of sleepless nights, of worries, of health issues for us, that we had to endure—wrongfully, because it wasn’t our fault. The State Department made the wrong decision. The judge’s decision says that clearly—that Ethan was an American citizen at birth. So, with the joy and the happiness of the decision, things are now corrected and are as they were supposed to be. But no one can give us back those two years we lost.”
Morris notes the internal harm caused to both parents and a child who is told they are not equal to their sibling. But he also sees hope ahead.
“We’ve been fighting for a very long time to ensure equality and we are still winning,” says Morris. “It’s a never-ending struggle. But it’s always worth the fight.”
The Immigration Equality hotline is 212-714-2904. But Morris suggests going to the organization’s website where there is a lot of useful information to help get you to the right person: immigrationequality.org.
a&e features
New book celebrates 1970s dance music icons
‘A Night at the Disco’ features interviews with Donna Summer, Debbie Harry, more
If you’re a fan of 1970s-era dance music, don’t miss the irresistible new book by Christian John Wikane and Alice Harris, “A Night at the Disco,” which revisits more than 90 interviews conducted with some of the biggest names in pop culture.
“A Night at the Disco” (ACC Art Books) was published on March 24, and distributed by Simon & Schuster. It celebrates more than 100 artists who sparked a phenomenon in dance music from 1970-1979 and features excerpts from interviews with everyone from Donna Summer to Debbie Harry.
Lost City Books (2467 18th St., N.W.) will welcome author Christian John Wikane for a book signing and conversation about “A Night at the Disco” on Thursday, April 16 at 6 p.m. Details at lostcitybookstore.com. Bird in Hand Coffee & Books in Baltimore (11 E. 33rd St.) )will also host a Q&A with the author on Wednesday, April 15 at 6 p.m. Details at theivybookshop.com.
Below is an excerpt from “A Night at the Disco.”
“I’ll let in anyone who looks like they’ll make things fun.” Steve Rubell is guiding a New York Times reporter through Studio 54 as resident DJ Richie Kaczor dazzles the crowd with records by CHIC, Odyssey, and T-Connection. “Disco, that’s where the happy people go,” The Trammps sing as dancers spin and twirl underneath tubes of flashing lights. Seven months since Rubell and co-owner Ian Schrager opened Studio 54 in April 1977, it’s welcomed untold numbers of “happy people” … at least those lucky enough to pass through the doors.
“We were part of the chosen few,” says André De Shields, who immortalized the title role in The Wiz on Broadway at the time. “We could show up at Studio 54 and the doorman at the velvet stanchion would look over everyone and point to us from The Wiz to come in, that kind of thing.” As the lead vocalist in the GRAMMY-nominated Dr. Buzzard’s Original Savannah Band, whose debut modernized big band sophistication for the discothèques, Cory Daye had carte blanche in the club. “The energy was like a New Year’s Eve party every night,” she says. “I would go up to the mezzanine and watch the mechanical light pillars go up and down, metallic confetti falling from the ceiling, the spoon and the moon. I was so fascinated and enamored by it.
“When a certain song came on, the people would just rush to the dance floor. There was no contact dancing — the hustle was pretty much on its way out — but it was just an amazing experience to see all the cultures together. It was a fusion of cultures, which described my life and my band, so I was right at home there.”
“Studio 54 was the place,” adds Linda Clifford. “Crazy parties. If you could think it, you would see it. It was like a circus. Just an amazing place to be. I worked 54 so many times. It was like a second home to me. The people there treated me so well. The crowd always seemed to enjoy my show. I always had a good time with them. That was the most important thing: making sure that they had fun.”
Well before Studio 54 opened, disco had become a business juggernaut. “A four billion dollar market and still growing,” Billboard announced in February 1977, with dance music offering more variety than ever. “There is no longer a single, readily identifiable disco beat, but a kaleidoscope of sounds that are melodic and danceable,” Tom Moulton told the magazine. In the clubs, records by veteran artists like Stevie Wonder and the Bee Gees were mixed in with a range of new acts like Grace Jones, Boney M., and The Ritchie Family, while everyone from ABBA to Marvin Gaye scored number one pop hits with songs that had club-centric storylines.
Beyond the charts, disco itself remained as idiosyncratic as ever, especially on several productions by Laurin Rinder and W. Michael Lewis, whose studio creations, El Coco (“Let’s Get It Together,” “Cocomotion”) and Le Pamplemousse (“Le Spank”), joined their own “Lust” from Seven Deadly Sins (1977) among the most tantalizing releases on AVI Records. Rinder & Lewis also produced acts for the newly hatched Butterfly Records in Los Angeles, where Saint Tropez (“On a Rien à Perdre”) and Tuxedo Junction (“Moonlight Serenade”) reflected the duo’s high gloss sound, spanning everything from European sophistication to a more literal translation of the ’40s sensibilities popularized by Dr. Buzzard’s Original Savannah Band.
12-inch singles had also grown as the preferred format to approximate the club music experience at home. Nearly a year after Atlantic Records introduced its series of promotional 12-inch singles for DJs, New York-based Salsoul Records released the industry’s first commercially available 12-inch single, “Ten Percent” by Double Exposure, in May 1976. A year later, T.K. Records was the first label to certify a gold record for a 12-inch single when Peter Brown’s “Do You Wanna Get Funky With Me” tallied one million sales.— Christian John Wikane
(From “A Night at the Disco” by Alice Harris & Christian John Wikane. Published by ACC Art Books.)
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Award-winning D.C. chef reaching new culinary heights
Anthony Jones of Marcus DC competing on ‘Top Chef’
In Anthony Jones’s kitchen, all sorts of flags fly, including his own. Executive chef at award-winning restaurant Marcus DC, Jones has reached culinary heights (James Beard Award semifinalist for Emerging Chef, anyone?), yet he’s just getting started.
Briefly stepping away from his award-winning station, Jones took a moment under a different set of lights. Recently, he temporarily gave up his post at the restaurant for a starring small-screen slot on the latest season of “Top Chef,” which debuted in March. (The show airs weekly on Bravo and Peacock).
Before his strategic slice-and-dice competition, however, Jones, who identifies as gay, draws from his deep DMV roots. In the years before “Top Chef” and the top chef spot at Marcus, he was born and raised in Sunderland, Md., in southern Maryland, near the Chesapeake.
Early memories were steeped in afternoons on boats with his dad bonding over fishing, and wandering the garden of his great-grandparents spread with fresh vegetables and a few hogs. “It was Southern, old-school ethics and upbringing,” he said. “Family and food went hand in hand.” Weekends meant grabbing bushels of crabs, dad and grandma would cook and crack them. Family members would host fish fries for extra cash. In this seafood-heavy youth, Jones managed time to sneak in episodes of the “OG” Japanese “Iron Chef” show, which helped inspire him to pursue a career in the kitchen.
Jones moved to D.C. after graduating from college, ending up at lauded Restaurant Eve, and met famed chef Marcus Samuelson, who brought him to Miami to be part of the opening team for Red Rooster Overtown. After three years, Jones moved back to D.C., where he ran Dirty Habit, reinventing and reimagining the menu, integrating West African flavors and ingredients.
Samuelson, however, wouldn’t let a talent like Jones stay away for too long. Pulling Jones back into his orbit, Samuelson elevated Jones to help him open his namesake restaurant Marcus DC, which has been named a top-five restaurant by the Washington Post. Since then, Jones has been nominated as a semifinalist for the RAMMYs Rising Culinary Star in 2026 and won the Eater DC’s Rising Chef award in 2025.
Samuelson’s Marcus is a tour de force interpreting the Black Diaspora on the plate, from the American South to West Africa, along with his signature “Swedopian” touches. Yet it’s Jones who has deeply informed the plate, elevating his own story to date. Marcus DC is primarily a seafood restaurant, which serves Jones well.
“Where I’m from is seafood heavy, and as I’ve progressed in my career, I’ve moved away from meat.” Veggies and fish are hero dishes. His own dish, Mel’s Crab Rice, was not only lauded by the Washington Post, but is framed by his youth carrying home the crustaceans from Mel’s crab truck. It’s a bowl of Carolina rice, layered with pickled okra, uni béarnaise, and crab. Jones also points to a dish on the opening menu, rockfish and brassica, paying respect to a landmark D.C. institution, Ben’s Chili Bowl. Jones reverse engineered a favorite bowl of chili that’s seafood instead of meat forward, leveraging octopus and rockfish along with different riffs of cauliflower: showing his intellectual, creative, and cultural sides.
While “Top Chef” is showing Jones’s spotlight side, he also lets his identity show at work. “In the kitchen, I make sure we’re inclusive. We don’t tolerate discrimination. Everyone that’s here should feel confident to express themselves. There are so many different flags in the kitchen.”
Jones says that he didn’t fully express his gay identity until fairly recently. He felt reluctant coming out to certain family members, “you’re scared to tell them about being different,” he says, and while that anxiety ate at him, “I’m lucky and fortunate to have unconditional love and that weight off my shoulders.”
Today, “I’m me all the time, Monday to Sunday. I’m honest with people, and my staff is honest with me.”
“Being a chef is hard,” he says, “and being a chef of color is even more difficult.”
Yet his LGBTQ identity is a juggling act, he says. “I need to keep that balance, because once someone finds out something about you, their opinion can change, whether you want it or not.”
Being on a whole season of TV cooking competition, however, might mean millions more might have an opinion of him (Jones has appeared on TV already, on an episode of “Chopped”). To prepare, he says, “I’ve just kept a level head. It’s just an honor to be on top chef with amazing people happy to be there.”
Plus, this season is set in the Carolinas, and Jones attended Johnson & Wales University in Charlotte, N.C. “It’s a full story of my life, now a monumental moment for me.”
Jones also recently was nominated for a James Beard Foundation Award. “JBF has been a north star, a dream for so long. I always had this goal on my wall.”
Being at the top spot at Marcus DC, making waves through his accolades, and cooking on Bravo means that Jones is highly visible. “I think that if someone has a similar background to me, and can see our story, trajectory, and success, they can have more ability to be themselves. This is my goal.”
Back at Marcus, Jones has plenty up his chef’s white’s sleeves. A new spring menu is in the works. He’ll be launching a new tasting menu “dining experience,” he says, and has plans to work on more events and collaborations with chefs and friends to bring in new talent and share the culinary wealth.
a&e features
Introducing the Torchbearers Awards honoring queer, trans women and nonbinary people
Meet the Legends and Illuminators lighting new paths
The Torchbearers Awards are more than recognition—they are a continuation of legacy. They honor the quiet architects of progress in our community: those who organize, advocate, build, and protect, often without fanfare but always with purpose. Rooted in a belief in intentional recognition, this honor names those who carry our movements forward—those who make room for others, who remind us that change is both generational and generative. In a time marked by uncertainty and challenge, these leaders push forward with courage, clarity, and an unwavering commitment to expanding opportunity and equity.
This year’s honorees reflect the full breadth of our community, spanning generations, backgrounds, identities, and industries. From Legends, with decades of leadership and having created pathways for others, to Illuminators, who are lighting new paths with creativity and innovation, each Torchbearer represents the power of intergenerational leadership and the strength found in our diversity. They are organizers, advocates, artists, policy leaders, healers, and changemakers whose lived experiences shape a shared vision for equity and liberation.
This award is our love letter to queer and trans women and nonbinary people who carry the flame when it would be easier to let it dim. To those who consistently show up, who use their voice and visibility and stand firm, often without recognition, so that others may live more freely and fully. The Torchbearers Awards celebrates not just what has been done, but the enduring spirit, responsibility, and collective care that ensure the work continues, and that the flame is always passed forward.
Co-Creators of the Torchbearers Awards: Shannon Alston, June Crenshaw, Heidi Ellis
Torchbearers Awards Advisory Board: Aditi Hardikar, Lesley Bryant, Jasmine Wilson-Bryant, Stephen Rutgers
ILLUMINATOR AWARDEES
- Representative Sharice Davids (she/her), (D, KS-03)
— U.S. House of Representatives - Greisa Martinez Rosas (she/her/ella)
— Executive Director, United We Dream - Paola Ramos (she/her)
— Journalist & Correspondent - Meagan A. Fitzgerald (she/her)
— Journalist & Correspondent - Jessica L. Lewis (she/her)
— Founder / Producer, Play Play DC - Savannah Wade (she/her)
— Founder, OAR Agency - Suhad Babaa (she/her)
— Filmmaker/ Former Executive Director of Just Vision - Ashlee Davis (she/her)
— Global Head of Inclusive Outcomes, Ancestry - Jazmine Hughes (she/her)
— Journalist and Former Editor at New York Times Magazine - Queen Adesuyi (they/she)
— Policy Advisor & Organizer, ReFrame Health & Justice - Michele Rayner, Esq. (she/her)
— Civil Rights Attorney, State Representative (Florida House of Representatives) - Gaby Vincent (she/her)
— Sports/Cultural Commentator and Community Leader - Jenny Nguyen (she/her)
— Founder & Owner, The Sports Bra - Denice Frohman (she/her)
— Independent Artist, Poet / Performer - Vida Rangel (she/her)
— Founder, Our Trans Capital - Roxanne Anderson (they/them)
— Executive Director, Our Space - Ann Marie Gothard (she/her)
— Co-Founder & President, Pride Live (Stonewall National Monument Visitor Center) - Diana Rodriquez (she/her)
— Co-Founder & CEO, Pride Live (Stonewall National Monument Visitor Center) - Wendi Cooper (she/her)
— Founder / Executive Director, Transcending Women - Toya Matthews (she/her)
— City of San Antonio, Texas - Mayor Gina Ortiz Jones (she/her)
— Sports/Cultural Commentator and Community Leader - Charity Blackwell (she/her)
— Poet, LGBTQ Advocate & Community Leader - Wilhelmina Indermaur (she/her)
— Director of Communications, Tyler Clementi Foundation - Em Chadwick (she/her)
— CMO, For Them & Autostraddle - Kylo Freeman (they/he)
— CEO, For Them & Autostraddle
LEGEND AWARDEES
- Sheila Alexander-Reid (she/her)
— Executive Director, PHL Diversity, Philadelphia Convention & Visitors Bureau - Cassandra Cantave Burton (she/her)
— Interim Director of Thought Leadership & Senior Research Advisor, AARP - leigh h. mosley (she/her)
— Photographer / Educator, PhotoFlo Photography - Jenn M. Jackson, PhD (they/them)
— Assistant Professor of Political Science; Author & Columnist, Syracuse University - Jordyn White (she/her)
— COO, Washington Prodigy / VP of Leadership Development & Research, HRC Foundation - AJ Hikes (they/them)
— Deputy Executive Director, ACLU - RaeShanda Lias (she/her)
— Digital Creator, RL Lockhart - Donna Payne-Hardy (she/her)
— Educator, EEO Specialist, Founder of NBJC, Former Leader at the Human Rights Campaign - Courtney R. Snowden (she/her)
— Principal, Blueprint Strategy Group - Gaye Adegbalola (she/her)
— Musician & Activist, Musician / Inductee of the Blues Hall of Fame - Cheryl A. Head (she/her)
— Independent Author, Novelist (Crime Fiction) - Letitia Gomez (she/her)
— The American LGBTQ+ Museum, Board Chair - Lynne Brown (she/her)
— Publisher, Washington Blade - Shay Franco-Clausen (She/Her/Ella/Queen)
— Political Strategist and Organizer - Melissa L. Bradley (she/her)
— Founder & Managing Partner, New Majority Ventures - Meghann Burke (she/her)
— Executive Director, NWSL Players Association - Victoria Kirby York, MPA (she/they)
— Director of Public Policy & Programs, National Black Justice Collective - Joli Angel Robinson (she/her)
— CEO, Center on Halsted - Jeannine Frisby LaRue (she/her)
— CEO, Moxie Strategies - Alice Wu (she/her)
— Film Director (Saving Face, The Half of It) / Screenwriter - Storme Webber (she/her)
— Interdisciplinary Artist / Educator, University of Washington - Kim Stone
— CEO of the Washington Spirit, Washington Spirit - Mickalene Thomas
— American Visual Artist, Mickalene Thomas Studio - Erika Lorshbough (any/they/she)
— Executive Director, interACT - J. Gia Loving (she/ella)
— Co-Executive Director, GSA Network
Minimal version of ‘Streetcar Named Desire’ heading to Dupont Underground
Comings & Goings
An effort to increase the number of psychiatrists of color
Calendar: April 10-16
BLUF leather social set for April 10 in Rehoboth
Police mental health struggles gain growing attention
Cuba under pressure and without answers
Tenn. lawmakers pass transgender “watch list” bill
Vance speaks at Orbán rally in Hungary
