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D.C.-area LGBT residents share COVID-19 experiences

‘It’s the most sick I’ve ever been,’ says Rehoboth Beach survivor

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COVID-19 LGBT survivors, gay news, Washington Blade
LGBT coronavirus survivors from the region.

Runny nose, some sneezing, itchy eyes — when Ryan Bos started experiencing those symptoms the week of April 8, he figured it was his annual annoying allergy onset.

By that weekend, though, a slight sore throat kicked in and he had some coughing, all typical of his usual allergies. By Sunday, April 11, he had a fever. A virtual doctor’s appointment the next day helped him determine it was a sinus infection.

During the next few days and with an antibiotic, his sore throat improved and his fever went down. But later in the week, Bos, who’s gay, lost all sense of smell, something he’d never experienced before.

Hearing from a friend that was a common symptom of COVID-19, the coronavirus that has infected 3.2 million around the world and killed 233,600, Bos, executive director of Capital Pride, went to the emergency room at George Washington University Hospital and got tested. Because of lab backlogs, it took 10 days to get the results. By that time his smell had returned but his COVID-19 test was positive.

Ryan Bos in a selfie he posted on social media while in the hospital last month. (Photo courtesy Bos)

The Blade this week spoke to three LGBT folks in the region — one in D.C., one in Annapolis, another in Rehoboth — about their experiences contracting and surviving the coronavirus.

Mariah Davis is a busy woman. She’s a policy and campaigns manager for the National Wildlife Federation, is working on a master’s degree from the University of Maryland in public management (she plans to finish in December) and she’s one of the founders of Annapolis Pride. She rents a room in a three-bedroom house in Annapolis and has two roommates. Like Bos, her symptoms also kicked in about April 8.

At first, she thought she had the flu but began to think it was something more serious despite not initially exhibiting many of the typical coronavirus symptoms she’d read about. She had extreme fatigue, body aches, persistent headache and congestion but no fever, no loss of taste or smell, no coughing and no sneezing.

She went to an urgent care center in her area and got a slip to get a COVID-19 test, which she had to drive about an hour away to Columbia, Md., to get through a drive-thru set up at a car emissions testing site.

“It was pretty freaky,” the 29-year-old lesbian says. “You drive through a garage, you get your test, it only takes like 10-15 seconds but yeah, that was an experience.”

That was a Tuesday. By Friday, she had her positive results.

“I knew there was a high possibility I could have caught COVID and by the time I went and got tested, I was already feeling a lot better,” Davis says. “In some ways it was a relief knowing I had it because then I knew what I needed to do to stop the spread.”

Mariah Davis says her experience with COVID-19 was ‘really, really awful.’ (Photo courtesy of Davis)

Tyler Townsend, a co-owner of gay bars The Pines and Aqua in Rehoboth Beach, Del., had a typically busy and bustling party weekend just before St. Patrick’s Day in March. They were allowed to have 100 on site to hear singer Pamala Stanley perform, which they did. He and friends went later that night to the Purple Parrot and “a few other bars” and did their usual socializing.

He started to feel sick on Friday, March 27. He’d known nobody else in his circle who’d had it and says it seemed to come “out of nowhere, just kind of random.”

“It was scary,” the 31-year-old Rehoboth native, who’s gay, says. “At the highest, my fever got to 104.8. It kind of came in waves. I’d feel OK for a while, then have chills, then take Tylenol and get it down. There was about five days of that cycle. Then after my fever broke, I had a little bit of a cough. It was about a week or eight days total. Then when the symptoms were gone, it was just being tired and just trying to get back to some kind of a normal life in isolation.”

Townsend, who shares a house with a roommate (although Townsend is planning to move into his own place soon), says he “just locked myself in the upstairs of the house” and waited it out.

There was one point his breathing got a bit shallow and he considered going to the ER, but it went away.

He got tested about two days after his symptoms started. He drove to Bethany Beach, Del., about a half-hour away, to get tested. The results took about a week to come in, by which time he was feeling better.

Townsend, who says he’s never had the flu, didn’t know what to compare it to.

“It was not fun,” he says. “It was more than just an inconvenience. There was not much beyond getting off the bed or the couch for a good four-five days. It’s the most sick I’ve ever been.”

Tyler Townsend, gay news, Washington Blade
Tyler Townsend says he isolated himself upstairs while he waited out the coronavirus and took extreme precautions to keep his roommate healthy when using common areas. (Blade photo by Kevin Naff)

The three regions Bos, Davis and Townsend represent are somewhat middling in overall number of coronavirus figures. Maryland is the 13th most affected U.S. state and Anne Arundel, with 2,054 infections and 107 deaths, is the fifth most infected county in the state. Rehoboth Beach is in Sussex County, Del., the most affected county in the state with 2,520 confirmed cases and 72 deaths. Delaware is the 33rd most affected state.

The District comes in at no. 36 in the nation (among states) with 5,322 confirmed cases and 264 deaths, but its figures are enough to put it pretty high among metro areas. It’s fourth behind New York, Chicago and Philadelphia but above Seattle, as of latest numbers according to the New York Times.

Of the three who shared their stories with the Blade, Bos fared worst.

About April 10, he started feeling “something in my stomach” that reminded him of the diverticulitis he’d had six years ago. He took himself to the ER about 4 a.m. on Saturday, April 11 and spent three days in the hospital. He went home, rested but got a fever again on Sunday, the 19th. By Friday, the 24th, his primary care physician advised him to go back to the hospital when it was discovered he had an abdominal abscess, a complication of the diverticulitis.

He says the COVID-19 and diverticulitis were related. The latter, he says, was more painful.

“For me, the COVID, the worst was when I had a temperature but the question was sort of mixed in with this sinus infection so not knowing how the symptoms overlapped — the worst part is just not knowing if you have the COVID, you begin to question everything you feel, every tightness, every cough, you wonder if you’re getting the next symptom and when it’s going to be over. That was one of the most challenging aspects,” Bos says.

He says he was fortunate not to experience shortness of breath or some of the more debilitating symptoms associated with the coronavirus. The diverticulitis, he says, was especially nasty.

“When you have a bad flare-up, it’s very debilitating,” Bos says. “I wasn’t able to stand up, it hurt to stand up, you have these shooting pains through the abdomen, you’re thinking, ‘Is this appendicitis, what is this?’ It definitely was not a fun experience at all.”

The staff at George Washington, Bos says, were “amazing.” It was never chaotic and he says they were on top of the testing and protocol.

Bos, who lives with one roommate (who has remained asymptomatic) in Mt. Vernon Square, says he has “no idea” whom he might have contracted COVID-19 from. He and the Capital Pride team were having their usual meetings in early March.

Davis, too, had several days of misery. She tried doing some teleworking and grad school work but says at its peak, the coronavirus sapped her energy.

“I felt really, really, really awful,” Davis says. “It was hard even to get out of bed. I’d start the day just taking a bath wth Tylenol, just trying to subside the pain. The fatigue definitely kept me on my butt for most of that week.”

Townsend had a gradual road back to health, he says with the cough letting up after his fever broke, then a lot of fatigue.

“It was definitely a slow process but I’m finally back to normal now,” he says. “It’s not just like bam, one morning you wake up and it’s over.”

Davis says now she “feels great.” She’s been told she’s free to come out of isolation and do normal activities provided she practices social distancing. She cites her overall good health with her fairly speedy recovery. The whole ordeal was about two weeks total for her.

Davis and Townsend’s roommates, so far, have not had symptoms.

While she was overall pleased with how her county — Anne Arundel — handled things, she says nationally there are disappointments.

“It’s pretty appalling that a lot of black and brown people are dying most of this,” she says. “I think that says a lot about who we prioritize in our country and that’s an issue that comes up across the board in other social issues.”

Bos said this week he’s “feeling pretty good” but “getting antsy.” He is still connected to a drain tube for his stomach infection and hopes to have it removed this week. “I miss running,” the 46-year-old Indiana native says.

Bos says he’s been pleased with how D.C. elected officials have handled the outbreak but says national leadership has been underwhelming.

“I expected more from our country in handling this crisis,” Bos says.

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Author of new book empowers Black ‘fat’ femme voices

After suicidal thoughts, attacks from far right, a roadmap to happiness

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(Book cover image via Amazon)

In 2017, Jon Paul was suicidal. In nearly every place Paul encountered, there were signs that consistently reminded the transgender community that their presence in America by the far right is unwelcomed.

Former President Donald Trump’s anti-trans rhetoric is “partly” responsible for Paul’s suicidal contemplation. 

“I’m driving out of work, and I’m seeing all of these Trump flags that are telling me that I could potentially lose my life over just being me and wanting to be who I am,” Paul said. “So, were they explicitly the issue? No, but did they add to it? I highly would say yes.”

During Trump’s time as president, he often disapproved of those who identified as transgender in America; the former president imposed a ban on transgender individuals who wanted to join the U.S. military.

“If the world keeps telling me that I don’t have a reason for me to be here and the world is going to keep shaming me for being here. Then why live?” Paul added. 

The rhetoric hasn’t slowed and has been a messaging tool Trump uses to galvanize his base by saying that Democrats like Vice President Kamala Harris “want to do transgender operations on illegal aliens that are in prison.” Trump made that claim at the presidential debate against Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris.  

Not only do Trump’s actions hurt Paul, but they also affect 17-year-old Jacie Michelleé, a transgender person at Friendly Senior High School.

“When former President Donald J. Trump speaks on transgender [individuals] in a negative light, it saddens my heart and makes me wonder what he thinks his personal gain is from making these comments will be,” Michelleé said.

“When these comments are made toward trans immigrants or the transgender community, it baffles me because it shows me that the times are changing and not for the better,” Michelleé added. 

The Congressional Black Caucus Foundation responded to Trump’s rhetoric that opposes the transgender community and how it affects democracy through programming at its Annual Legislative Conference in Washington.

“Our agendas are not set by what other groups are saying we should or shouldn’t do. It is set by our communities and what we know the needs and the most pressing needs are for the Black community, and we know that our global LGBTQAI+ communities have needs; they are a part of our community,” said Nicole Austin-Hillery, president and CEO of the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation.

One pressing need is suicide prevention, which the National Institute of Health deems necessary, as 82% of transgender individuals have reported having suicidal thoughts, while 40% have attempted suicide. This research applies to individuals like Paul, who reported contemplating suicide.

But instead of choosing to self-harm, Paul met Latrice Royale, a fourth-season contestant on “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” who was awarded the title of Miss Congeniality while on the show. Paul said that meeting brought meaning when there was barely any left.

“It was like I met them at a time where I really, truly, not only needed to see them, but I needed to be able to actively know ‘girl’ you can live and you can have a really a good life, right? And Latrice was that for me,” Paul said.

Though Trump is representative of a lot of movements that are clashing with society, the Democratic Party is actively pushing back against anti-transgender movements and says there is “still much work to be done.”

Not only did Royale model success for Paul, but they also share the same appearance. Paul proudly identifies as “fat” and uses this descriptor as a political vehicle to empower others in the book “Black Fat Femme, Revealing the Power of Visibly Queer Voices in the Media and Learning to Love Yourself.”

“My book, my work as a Black, fat femme, is inherently political. I say this at the very front of my book,” Paul said. “All three of those monikers are all three things in this world that the world hates and is working overtime to get rid of.”

“They’re trying to kill me as a Black person; they’re trying to get rid of me as a fat person. They are trying to get rid of me as a queer person,” Paul added.

Besides Paul’s political statements, the book’s mission is to give those without resources a blueprint to make it across the finish line.

“I want them to look at all the stories that I share in this and be able to say, ‘wow,’ not only do I see myself, but now I have a roadmap and how I can navigate all of these things that life throws at me that I never had, and I think that’s why I was so passionate about selling and writing the book,” Paul said.

The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.

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Jussie Smollett asserts innocence while promoting new film

‘I know what happened and soon you all will too’

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Jussie Smollett’s case remains on appeal. His new film is out later this month. (Photo by Starfrenzy/Bigstock)

Jussie Smollett, the actor and musician who was convicted of lying to the police about being the victim of a homophobic and racist hate crime that he staged in 2019, attended a screening of his latest film “The Lost Holliday” in a packed auditorium of the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library on Aug. 28. 

In an interview with the Washington Blade that took place before the screening, he continued to assert his innocence and responded to concerns within the LGBTQ community that his case has discouraged real victims from reporting hate crimes. 

The former “Empire” star wrote, produced, and directed “The Lost Holliday,” his second feature film to direct following 2021’s “B-Boy Blues.” Produced through Smollett’s company, SuperMassive Movies, he stars in the film alongside Vivica A. Fox, who also served as a producer and attended the library screening with other cast members.

In the film, Smollett plays Jason Holliday, a man grappling with the sudden death of his husband Damien (Jabari Redd). Things are complicated when Damien’s estranged mother, Cassandra Marshall (Fox), arrives in Los Angeles from Detroit for the funeral, unaware of Damien’s marriage to Jason or of their adopted daughter. Initially, Jason and Cassandra clash — Cassandra’s subtle homophobia and Jason’s lingering resentment over her treatment of Damien fuel their tension –– but they begin to bond as they navigate their grief together. 

Smollett, Fox, Redd, and Brittany S. Hall, who plays Jason’s sister Cheyenne, discussed the film in an interview with the Washington Blade. Highlighting the wide representation of queer identities in the film and among the cast, they stressed that the story is fundamentally about family and love.

“What we really want people to get from this movie is love,” Smollett said. “It’s beneficial for people to see other people that are not like themselves, living the life that they can identify with. Because somehow, what it does is that it opens up the world a little bit.”

Smollett drew from personal experiences with familial estrangement and grief during the making of the film, which delves into themes of parenthood, reconciliation, and the complexities of family relationships.

“I grew up with a father who was not necessarily the most accepting of gay people, and I grew up with a mother who was rather the opposite. I had a safe space in my home to go to, but I also had a not-so-safe space in my home, which was my father,” he said.

“The moment that he actually heard the words that his son was gay, as disconnected and estranged as we were, he instantly changed. He called me, after not speaking to him for years, and apologized for how difficult it must have been all of those years of me growing up. And then a couple years later, he passed away.”

Smollett began working on “The Lost Holliday” eight years ago, with Fox in mind for the role of Cassandra from the outset. He said that he had started collaborating on the project with one of the biggest producers in Hollywood when “‘2019’ happened.”

In January 2019, Smollett told Chicago police that he had been physically attacked in a homophobic and racist hate crime. He initially received an outpouring of support, in particular from the LGBTQ and Black communities. However, police soon charged him with filing a false police report, alleging that he had staged the attack. 

After prosecutors controversially dismissed the initial charges in exchange for community service and the forfeiture of his $10,000 bond, Smollett was recharged with the same offenses in 2020. Meanwhile, his character in “Empire” was written out of the show. 

In 2021, a Cook County jury found him guilty on five of the six charges of disorderly conduct for lying to police, and he was sentenced to 150 days in jail and 30 months of probation, along with a $120,000 restitution payment to the city of Chicago for the overtime costs incurred by police investigating his initial hate crime claim.

LGBTQ people are nine times more likely than non-LGBTQ people to be victims of violent hate crimes, according to a study by the Williams Institute at UCLA School of Law. Upon Smollett’s conviction, some in the LGBTQ community felt that the case would discredit victims of hate crimes and make it more difficult to report future such crimes. 

Smollett seemed to acknowledge these concerns, but denied that he staged the attack. 

“I know what happened and soon you all will too,” he told the Blade. “If someone reported a crime and it wasn’t the truth, that would actually make it more difficult [to report future crimes], but I didn’t. Any belief that they have about the person that I’ve been played out to be, sure, but that person is not me, never has been,” he said. “So I stand with my community. I love my community and I protect and defend my community until I’m bloody in my fist.” 

“And for all the people who, in fact, have been assaulted or attacked and then have been lied upon and made it to seem like they made it up, I’m sorry that you have to constantly prove your trauma, and I wish that it wasn’t that way, and I completely identify with you,” he added.

An Illinois Appellate Court upheld his guilty verdict last year, but Smollett has since appealed to the Illinois Supreme Court, which in March agreed to hear the case. He has served six days in jail so far, as his sentence has been put on hold pending the results of his appeals. 

The screening at the MLK Jr. Library concluded with a conversation between Smollett, Fox, and David J. Johns, CEO and executive director of the National Black Justice Coalition. Smollett discussed his current mindset and his plans for the future, revealing he is working on a third movie and will be releasing new music soon. 

“I’m in a space where life is being kind,” he said. 

“The Lost Holliday” recently secured a distribution deal for a limited release with AMC Theatres and will be out in theaters on Sept. 27. 

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DIK Bar cements its status as LGBTQ institution, prepares to expand

Dupont Cantina coming soon to the former Malbec space

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Michael Askarinam and his brother Tony opened Dupont Italian Kitchen nearly 40 years ago. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

Two immigrant brothers who could not return home, Michael and Tony Askarinam, turned instead to making a community space of their own. Nearly 40 years after debuting their casual, gay-friendly restaurant, the (straight) owners of Dupont Italian Kitchen are expanding, reinforcing their status as a center of gay life on 17th Street. By early fall, they plan to debut a casual Mexican restaurant, complete with a spacious patio, tons of tacos, and big margarita energy that will please outdoor diners and karaoke singers upstairs alike.

DIK Bar, as it is affectionately known, still serves fan-favorite lasagna and eggplant parmesan, though no longer for a cool $4.25 from its opening menu. Michael, who moved to the U.S. from Iran to study in 1974, graduated in 1980 – less than a year after the Iranian revolution. Part of a Jewish family, he felt unsafe going back to his homeland with the new regime, and has never returned. Instead, he and his brother, who also fled, opened a restaurant that still sits on the same corner as the day it opened. Though he is not Italian, Michael had plenty of relevant experience: He had worked in Italian restaurants during summers while studying, and another brother owned the now-closed restaurant Spaghetti Garden (where Pitchers stands today). The menu, he admits, pulled heavily from his family influence.

Dupont Italian Kitchen (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

Opening on 17th Street in the mid-‘80s, the brothers knew the community vibe. Annie’s, just a block away, was already well known as an LGBTQ-friendly institution. At the time, he says, the street was a bit grittier — not the well-manicured lane it is today. Still, they decided to open a restaurant and Italian Kitchen was born. His brother at Spaghetti Garden suggested adding “Dupont” in front to help ground the location, and DIK came into being. “At the beginning I admit I was a little uncomfortable with the name, having young kids. But it grew on me,” he says. Leaning in, he’s embraced the name.

A few years later, the restaurant expanded vertically: taking over the apartments upstairs to turn it into a bar; a new chef came in who introduced DIK Bar’s popular brunch. But he and his brother never really relinquished the cozy space that he had envisioned. Each pushing 80 years old, they come in nearly daily: cooking, bartending, even washing dishes.

DIK has evolved, but only slightly. Eggplant and chicken parm, lasagna, pizza, pasta, and a $1 garden salad: the opening menu from the ‘80s reads like a genuine old-school Italian joint. Today, you will still find classic gems, though now they are nestled alongside Brussels sprouts and arugula salads.

As longtime patrons know, the restaurant is more than the sum of its pasta parts. “It’s an atmosphere where everybody is welcome. I got that from my mother,” he added, noting that she had experienced discrimination as part of the Jewish minority in Iran. Given this background, it was logical for them to build a space where “you have a place to be who you are and feel comfortable.”

In 2020, as the restaurant’s lease was expiring, he had the opportunity to buy the building, which included adjacent Argentine restaurant Malbec. “The landlord let us know that they felt we deserve to own the building after being here for so long,” says Michael.

It was a blessing; to him, it meant the sustainability of Dupont Italian Kitchen. Earlier this year, when Malbec’s lease expired, they decided against finding another tenant and instead they would make it their own. The two eateries already shared one storage basement, where the Malbec kitchen was located. Saving costs by sharing procurement, staff, and utilities (as well as liquor), they took the leap. “Plus, we can be our own great tenant,” he said with a smile.

The new Dupont Cantina is coming soon. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

The refurbishment thus far has included a new HVAC system and a new bar. The new restaurant allows them access to a more spacious kitchen that can cook up sizzling Mexican favorites with speed and in volume. Customers at upstairs DIK Bar have always requested more bar-style finger food, he says, and tacos are better suited to a drinking atmosphere than fettuccine alfredo or creamy Cajun sausage pasta. Mexican food is also well suited to the patio. He also has a family tie to Mexico: relatives own Johnny Pistolas in Adams Morgan. The rest of the menu is being developed, including shareable small plates and “Mexican pizza.” Drinks will feature tequila, mezcal, and margaritas; and there is a happy hour in the works. “I’m hoping this expansion can help cement our future,” he says.

The opening timeline is early fall.

Looking back on almost 40 years and looking forward with the expansion, he mused that the restaurant still maintains its authenticity and its central role in LGBTQ life in D.C. “I’m really proud of the fact that it caters to this community. We are an institution, we want to continue to be part of this place.”

Michael Askarinam at DIK Bar. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)
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