News
Una tarde con Yariel
Ha permanecido bajo custodia de ICE por casi un año

Nota del editor: Una versión de esa nota de opinión en inglés salió en el sitio web del Blade el 4 de febrero.
FERRIDAY, Luisiana — Un guardia masculino al River Correctional Center, un centro de detención privado en el Condado Concordia en Luisiana, me llevó a la sala de visitantes un poco después de la 1 p.m. el sábado. Me senté en una mesa grande —como las que se pueden encontrar en una cafetería de la escuela— y miré a las murallas con mensajes de empoderamiento que habían sido pintados en la pared. Unos minutos después, miré hacía la puerta con una pequeña ventana y vi a Yariel, que vestía un traje verde de rayas. Otro guardia masculino abrió la puerta y Yariel entró la sala. Nos abrazamos fuertemente unos segundos después. Estaba casi sollozando, pero Yariel me aseguró que estaba bien. Después de un par de minutos, nos sentimos en la mesa —uno frente al otro— y empezó nuestra visita. Usé una de las servilletas que tomé de una gasolinera cercana para limpiar las lágrimas de mis ojos. Después de un par de minutos, puse sus manos en las mías y comenzó a llorar. Le di una de las servilletas de la gasolinera para limpiar sus ojos y traté de consolarlo.
“Esta bien llorar”, lo aseguré.
No había visto a Yariel en persona desde el 27 de enero de 2019. Habíamos pasado el día reportando desde un albergue de migrantes dirigida por una lesbiana en Mexicali, una ciudad mexicana en la frontera con EEUU, y lo dejé al apartamento pequeño en Tijuana en que vivía con su padre. Estábamos casi mareados, en parte, porque habíamos cantado canciones de Lady Gaga como locos durante el viaje de dos horas entre Mexicali y Tijuana. Esos momentos despreocupados parecen de toda la vida.
Yariel el sábado me dio dos regalos: Una pulsera hecha de piezas de bolsas de basura negras y blancas y un zapatillo hecho de paquetes de Maruchan y envoltorios de crema de café que hará un buen ornamento navideño. Hablamos como amigos, como hermanos. Hablamos sobre Cuba y el juicio político del presidente Trump. Lo compré una botella de Sprite de una máquina expendedora en la sala. También compartimos una bolsa de Doritos. Una guardia femenina que habla español estaba en la sala con nosotros. Al principio estuve un poco incómodo de verla escribiendo en un cuaderno, pero después de unos minutos olvidé que estaba allí.

A las 2:50 p.m., nos dijo en español que nuestra visita iba a terminar en 10 minutos. Yariel quería darme dos carpetas con sus escritos sobre su tiempo bajo custodia del Servicio de Inmigración y Control de Aduanas (ICE), pero la guardia lo dijo que no podría tomarlas conmigo. Yariel había colocado la pulsera alrededor de mi muñeca y un supervisor dijo a la guardia que podría llevar el ornamento conmigo. Los puse, junto con su foto del tamaño de un pasaporte, en mi mano. Nos pusimos de pie y nos abrazamos fuertemente. Lo dije que lo quiero y luego salimos por puertas diferentes. Salí por la puerta principal de la instalación menos de cinco minutos después y regresé a mi hotel en Kenner, un suburbio de Nueva Orleans, a las 6:45 p.m.
Ha pasado casi un año desde que Yariel pidió asilo en EEUU y entró la custodia de ICE. Los lectores del Washington Blade saben que un juez el pasado septiembre concedió asilo a Yariel. También saben que su destino está en las manos de la Junta de Apelación de Inmigración en Virginia porque ICE apeló el fallo.
Hay cierta ironía en el hecho que Yariel comenzó escribir para el Blade en el otoño de 2018, en parte, porque necesitábamos un reportero en Tijuana que pudiera reportar sobre los migrantes LGBTQ que llegaban a la ciudad con las caravanas migratorias de Centroamérica. La cobertura del Blade de estos temas continua, con mi más reciente viaje a Honduras y El Salvador que terminó hace seis días antes de mi visita con Yariel. Esta cobertura sigue siendo tan importante como siempre con la política migratoria de línea dura de la administración Trump continúan poniendo en riesgo a los migrantes LGBTQ.
También se convierte en algo profundamente personal.

Mi esposo y yo el viernes, unas horas antes de volar a Luisiana, asistieron una ceremonia en Durham, Carolina del Norte, donde nuestro querido amigo Marcelo se convirtió en ciudadano estadounidense. Marcelo, un bailarín para el Carolina Ballet de origen paraguayo, trabajaba muy duro para llegar a ese momento y estamos muy orgullosos de él.

Uno de los momentos más memorables de la ceremonia fue el video en que Trump felicitó a Marcelo y los otras 56 personas que acababan de convertirse en ciudadanos estadounidenses. Ninguno de ellos aplaudió al final del video. Ellos, junto con el resto de nosotros, saben mierda cuando la escuchan, y todos respondimos en especie.
Estos ciudadanos estadounidenses, junto con Yariel, son exactamente el tipo de personas que harán una contribución positiva a este país y lo hará aún mejor. Merecen nuestro respeto y apoyo, no retorica barata basada en racismo, xenofobía y supremacía blanca para apaciguar una base política antes de una elección presidencial.
Una de las partes más desgarradoras de mi visita con Yariel fue cuando me dijo que más desea es su libertad que lo permitirá empezar una nueva vida en los EEUU sin miedo de persecución. La lucha para hacer realidad el sueño de Yariel sigue. Espero que mi próximo viaje a Luisiana sea recogerlo después de la Junta de Apelaciones de Inmigración confirme su decisión de asilo y ICE finalmente lo libere de su custodia.
Siempre estaré a tu lado, Yariel.
News
An effort to increase the number of psychiatrists of color
After 35 years in law and advocacy, Rawle Andrews Jr. returns to his roots
Rawle Andrews Jr. took an indirect path to become executive director of the American Psychiatric Association Foundation (APAF).
From a psychology major in college to becoming a lawyer, the passion for equity and inclusion that fueled him during his years at AARP and as a professor at Howard and Georgetown universities serves as the foundation for his career in mental health.
Andrews has made it his mission at APAF to prioritize youth mental health — including in schools in D.C. and across the country — and to reduce stigma around mental illness and increase the number of psychiatrists of color practicing in the U.S.
Andrews, who began his educational career studying psychology, said he felt out of place in college when his classmates were pursuing medical careers and he was more interested in law.
“I was the only person in my cohort who was going to law school,” he said. “Everybody else wanted to be a doctor and go to medical school.”
Everything changed for Andrews during the COVID-19 pandemic and after George Floyd was killed by police in Missouri: Those pivotal moments reshaped national conversations about health, race, and inequality, and pushed Andrews to rethink his career.
“I saw people deathly afraid of some disease, but also mortified by the fact that they witnessed somebody die on TV,” he said.
After nearly 16 years working as a lawyer in private practice and 15 years at AARP, Andrews found himself pulled back to mental and “whole body” health.
“My goal in law school was to be a courtroom lawyer all the time. If you had told me in 1990 that I would be a practicing lawyer going to court every day, I would have laughed you out of this room. If you had told me in 2010 that I wouldn’t be an in-house lawyer every day … I would have laughed you out of this room,” he said. “Everybody thinks you’re going to go straight from A to B. Life doesn’t work A to B.”
Now, Andrews says, he has the “ability to serve the whole house.” He can help “the eight-year-old who’s struggling in middle school … the parent who’s trying to get that child through, but also caring for an older loved one … who might have some cognitive decline or mobility challenges.”
Building a pipeline of Black mental health professionals
In his role at APAF, Andrews has his sights set on increasing the number of psychiatrists nationwide by reducing barriers to study and success, particularly for practitioners of color, who are vastly underrepresented.
Only about 5% of physicians are Black, and the number for Black psychiatrists is even lower at just 2%, according to the American Psychiatric Association. Widespread stigma around mental illness in communities of color, combined with “systemic barriers that keep persons of color from getting into medical school and matching for residency with teaching hospitals after graduating,” have contributed to the low numbers, Andrews says.
Financial pressures, limited residency slots, and a lack of exposure to psychiatry as a viable career all play important roles in limiting Black representation in the field. At the same time, stigma surrounding mental health — especially in Black communities — can discourage both patients and future physicians, according to Andrews.
He explains that this stigma is rooted in underlying fear, shame, and historic discrimination, and the only way to deal with those issues is directly. If you break those down, Andrews said, you can actually address them.
There are signs of change, though. “In the digital world, more and more people are seeing and talking about mental health all the time,” Andrews said. “And I believe more and more young doctors of all colors are deciding, ‘we need more psychiatrists, and I want to be a part of that solution.’”
Not having enough psychiatrists of color has far-reaching consequences. If you are a “non-diverse” physician or a physician practicing without humility or cultural competency, you may over-diagnose or misdiagnose a patient, said Andrews. You might assume a patient has symptoms due to your own cognitive biases.
A 2024 study in the Journal of General Internal Medicine revealed that mistrust and suspicion were high among dozens of Black patients with serious mental illness, who said they felt doctors did not take their concerns seriously or took a condescending tone with them during appointments.
This type of treatment does not promote trust or disclosure, Andrews said. “What is my advantage to be vulnerable with people who don’t think much of me, because you already thought I was broken?”
To combat medical racism and bias, APAF runs one of the largest psychiatry pipeline programs in the world. It provides more than 1,000 medical students from underrepresented and marginalized communities with training and professional development. Programs like the Diversity Leadership Fellowship emphasize cultural competency and evidence-based practices to better serve diverse groups and at-risk populations.
These programs have had tangible success in producing leadership in the field of psychiatry: APA’s CEO Dr. Marketa Wills, the first CEO of color and first female CEO in the APA organization’s 180-year history, was a trainee with the APAF nearly three decades ago.
Despite efforts to make healthcare more equitable for patients of color and members of the LGBTQ+ community, many experts believe that racism and biases are more deeply ingrained in the system than many realize. For example, a 2019 study found that Black patients suffering from depression are often misdiagnosed with schizophrenia, and a 2016 study revealed that many doctors wrongly believe that Black patients have higher thresholds for pain tolerance.
“If you don’t have cultural humility or cultural competency, you could over-diagnose somebody because you’re looking for them to be ADHD, you’re looking for them to be bipolar, you’re looking for them to be schizophrenic,” said Andrews. “And then, because of the fears, the stigmas, the shame, people don’t want to go and get tested either.”
Youth mental health focus
Andrews says many fear that telling someone else about their struggles will cause that person to look down on them. That unwillingness to share about mental health challenges can start at a young age.
That’s why the APAF has partnered with local organizations in the Washington, D.C., area to help young people address mental health concerns. One of the programs, Our Minds Matter, operates in D.C.-area schools and other states to educate students on signs of emotional distress and how to address it. APAF also runs the Notice.Talk.Act. at School program, which helps train school staff to recognize and address student mental health issues and connect them to resources. The program was recently adopted at Jefferson Middle School Academy.
The program is “the ‘stop, drop and roll’ of mental health,” Andrews said. “How do I notice signs and symptoms of distress in a student? How do I create an open space to talk and be a better active listener with a student who wants to share their mental health concerns and then act?”
APAF’s program, funded by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) and free to schools, trained about 890 school staff members across the country in 2024, and boasts a 70% reduction in truancy and 89% reduction in disciplinary referrals, according to the foundation.
Notice.Talk.Act. is not just in schools — there are versions for home, for college, for the workplace.
Andrews hopes that this work with the APAF will reduce the stigma surrounding mental health struggles and improve access to culturally competent care. But he acknowledges there’s still a long way to go.
“We are planting and sowing seeds now and fertilizing the soil and tilling the soil,” he said. “We know that the next generation of doctors is going to look closer to the way the population looks. But ultimately, we still haven’t done enough.”
(This work is part of a partnership between the Washington Blade Foundation and Youthcast Media Group, funded through the FY26 Community Development Grant from the Office of D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser. Jebeh Pajibo is a senior at Bard High School Early College DC, one of Youthcast Media Group’s journalism class partners. Sarah Gandluri, a UNC-Chapel Hill sophomore, is an intern and former high school participant with YMG. YMG founder, former USA Today health policy reporter Jayne O’Donnell, contributed to this report.)
Rehoboth Beach
BLUF leather social set for April 10 in Rehoboth
Attendees encouraged to wear appropriate gear
Diego’s in Rehoboth Beach hosts a monthly leather happy hour. April’s edition is scheduled for Friday, April 10, 5-7 p.m. Attendees are encouraged to wear appropriate gear. The event is billed as an official event of BLUF, the free community group for men interested in leather. After happy hour, the attendees are encouraged to reconvene at Local Bootlegging Company for dinner, which allows cigar smoking. There’s no cover charge for either event.
District of Columbia
Celebrations of life planned for Sean Bartel
Two memorial events scheduled in D.C.
Two celebrations of life are planned for Sean Christopher Bartel, 48, who was found deceased on a hiking trail in Argentina on or around March 15. Bartel began his career as a television news reporter and news anchor at stations in Louisville, Ky., and Evansville, Ind., before serving as Senior Video Producer for the D.C.-based International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers union from 2013 to 2024.
A memorial gathering is planned for Friday, April 10, 11:30 a.m.-1:30 p.m. at the IBEW International Office (900 7th St., N.W.), according to a statement by the DC Gay Flag Football League, where Bartel was a longtime member. A celebration of life is planned that same evening, 6-8 p.m. at Trade (1410 14th St., N.W.).
