Commentary
Recalling the struggle to repeal ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’
10 years later, gov’t still cleaning up the mess of failed law
Franklin Burch was ecstatic marching down the street waving a small American flag and an “Uncle Sam: I Want You” poster during the March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay, and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation. “Gays and lesbians have a right to serve,” the 70-year old gay vet from Los Angeles told the Washington Post on April 25, 1993. “This is America, and we have these rights.”
An estimated 700,000 LGBTQ and allies agreed, marching past the White House and pouring onto the Mall, many grasping for hope during the horrific Second Wave of AIDS. An idealistic optimism was palpable. Gays had voted en masse to elect Bill Clinton as president of the United States, ejecting the Reagan-Bush administration that ignored the deaths of a generation of gay men. Clinton had promised money for AIDS research and pledged nondiscrimination policies, including lifting the ban on gays and lesbians serving in the military.
ANGLE’s David Mixner, a Clinton friend from the anti-Vietnam War days, strenuously pointed out that the U.S. military was America’s largest employer, enabling gay people stuck in hateful environments to get out, get an education, see the world and serve their country. Not giving gays that opportunity was unfair, and therefore, un-American.
The March on Washington program opened with a stunning Robin Tyler-produced encapsulation of the moment – a sense of pride in our patriotism. To a recording of military theme songs, flag-bearing gays and lesbians who had been drummed out of the military marched onstage, accompanied by some active-duty military coming out publicly based on Clinton’s promise. Navy Officer Keith Meinhold and Army Col. Margarethe “Grethe” Cammermeyer ended the procession, with Cammermeyer calling everyone to attention. The crowd – including me – stood at attention, too, tears streaming down our faces at the courage of our people to serve a country that still treated us as deviants.
Then Dorothy Hajdys took the stage carrying a framed photo of her son, Petty Officer Third Class Allen Schindler, murdered six months earlier in a public toilet in Sasebo, Nagasaki, Japan by two shipmates. The coroner said Schindler’s injuries were worse “than the damage to a person who’d been stomped by a horse.” Schindler could only be identified by the tattoos on his arm. The March on Washington crowd gave Hajdys a 10-minute standing ovation. We knew the cost of freedom.
House Speaker Nancy Pelosi read a letter from Clinton, who didn’t attend or send a video, as expected. “I stand with you in the struggle for equality for all Americans, including gay men and lesbians,” Clinton wrote. “In this great country, founded on the principle that all people are created equal, we must learn to put aside what divides us and focus on what we share.”
Liberal Democratic icon Sen. Edward M. Kennedy spoke via an audio tape, comparing our March to the famous civil rights march of 1963. “We stand again at the crossroads of national conscience,” Kennedy said.
But there were hints of a coming storm. Robin Tyler tore a Clinton telegram of apology on stage as unacceptable. “A Simple Matter of Justice” banner flapped in the background as beloved ally actress Judith Light said: “I am grateful to you, the gay and lesbian community, for the impact you are having on all of society. I am grateful for your teaching Colin Powell about equal opportunity. I am grateful for your teaching Sam Nunn about moving into the 20th century. I am grateful for your teaching George Bush about the consequences of irresponsible neglect and misuse of power. And you are in the process of teaching President Clinton the importance of being a leader and the dangers of compromising with what is right and just.”
But teaching doesn’t equal lessons learned. Clinton betrayed us, agreeing to a Nunn-devised “compromise” on lifting the gay ban called “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, Don’t Pursue.” Democratic Sen. Sam Nunn and Republican John Warner evoked horrific “gay sexual predator” images as they went aboard a submarine to ask sailors how they’d feel lying in such proximity to a gay shipmate. The subtext was clearly an invitation to harass those suspected of being gay and lesbian. Witch hunts were sport.
The cruelty of DADT went beyond the physical. If a buddy on the frontlines in Iraq or Afghanistan was killed by an improvised explosive device (IED), the gay service member could not share the fear, the pain, the trauma because letters back home were checked and psychiatrists and chaplains had to report gay-related confessions. The lives of 14,000 gay, lesbian and bisexual service members were ruined by the time DADT officially ended a decade later, on Sept. 20, 2011. Today, marking the 10th anniversary of the official repeal, the Veterans Administration concedes it is still catching up with all the damage governmental politics created. It’s estimated that more than 114,000 LGBTQ service members or those perceived to be LGBTQ were discharged between Franklin Burch’s service in World War II and the repeal of DADT.
“Although VA recognizes that the trauma caused by the military’s decades-long policy of discrimination against LGBTQ+ people cannot be undone in a few short months, the Biden administration and Secretary McDonough are taking the steps necessary to begin addressing the pain that such policies have created. LGBTQ+ Veterans are not any less worthy of the care and services that all Veterans earn through their service, and VA is committed to making sure that they have equal access to those services,” writes Kayla Williams, a bisexual veteran and assistant secretary for public affairs in VA’s Office of Public and Intergovernmental Affairs on the VA blog.
Clinton’s betrayal broke our hearts and ruined lives. But amazingly, it did not stop us — which attorney C. Dixon Osburn, a civilian graduate of Georgetown University Law, recounts in his just released must-read book “Mission Possible: The Story of the Repealing of ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.’” This is the stunning story of how Osburn and attorney Michelle Benecke, a Harvard Law graduate and former Army captain, founded Servicemembers Legal Defense Network to immediately help desperate service members and work with nonprofit allies and law firms to challenge DADT in the courtroom and in the court of public opinion.
“Mission Possible” completes an important trilogy about LGBTQ people serving in the U.S. military, next to “Coming Out Under Fire,” by Alan Bérubé and Randy Shilts’ “Conduct Unbecoming: Lesbians and Gays in the U.S. Military.” These books are not only LGBTQ history, but about our patriotism and what drives our private lives — and how government has intervened to block us at every step based on bias.
“Mission Possible” is also a book about endurance, ingenuity, and triumph. If a united gay voting bloc and 700,000 people on the Mall and thousands more back home didn’t give Clinton enough clout or backbone to keep his promise to lift the gay military ban – SLDN needed a smart, comprehensive strategy and a willingness and stamina to keep their eyes on the distant prize of repealing DADT. After educating an anti-military community and fighting a “graveyard mentality” that believed that lifting the gay ban was impossible, they had to figure out how to secure bipartisan support.
And there was bipartisan support, privately. “Party sticks with party, unless there’s a breakthrough, Osburn says, noting that GOP Sen. Lisa Murkowski told him: “You have to create the moment so I can be with you.”
With the discharge of the Arab linguists, DADT became less an issue of civil rights and more publicly an obstacle to national security. There are scores of nail-biting behind-the-scenes stories about how SLDN shifted the public and military consciousness from July 1993 to September 20, 2011, “when President Barack Obama, Secretary of Defense Robert Gates, and Admiral Mike Mullen, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, certified to Congress that implementing repeal of the policy would have no effect on military readiness, military effectiveness, unit cohesion, or recruiting and retention.”
Dec. 18, 2010 – on Osburn’s birthday – the Senate finally voted to deliver more than 60 votes to overcome Republican Sen. John McCain’s repeated and stubborn use of the filibuster to block repeal. There are echoes of political machinations of today.
There are crafty stories, as well, illustrating the absurdity of DADT. For instance, Army Sergeant Darren Manzella, Osburn writes, “was the epitome of the competent, well-regarded openly gay soldier who put a lie to the belief that his mere presence would weaken military readiness. He was out to his Army buddies and had even introduced them to his boyfriend.” In 2006 at Fort Hood, he started getting anonymous emails and “calls warning him that he was being watched and to ‘turn the flame down.’” He sought advice from his commanding officer which triggered an investigation, with which Manzella fully cooperated. The Army concluded he wasn’t gay and told him to go back to work. He was subsequently deployed to Iraq, then Kuwait, unsure whether a new commander would discharge him.
SLDN reached out to Manzella to see if he’d be willing to do a 60 Minutes interview, explaining the pros and cons if he went forward. He said yes, but how to do it knowing the Army wouldn’t grant permission? SLDN communications director Steve Ralls came up with a plan. “Manzella signed up to run in the Army marathon in Kuwait. At a predetermined point, he veered off-course to a waiting car that whisked him to a hotel, where he changed into civilian clothes and met with correspondent Lesley Stahl. After the interview, he changed back into his running clothes, the crew doused him with sweaty water, and the car whisked him back so he could cross the finish line,” Osburn writes. “Once the segment was broadcast, the Army could no longer pretend that Manzella wasn’t gay, or that ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ was a law with an on-off switch. He was discharged six months later and became one of the many vocal advocates for repeal.”

On Dec. 22, 2010, President Barack Obama kept the campaign promise he made and signed the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. “For we are not a nation that says, ‘don’t ask, don’t tell.’ We are a nation that says, ‘Out of many, we are one.’ We are a nation that welcomes the service of every patriot. We are a nation that believes that all men and women are created equal. Those are the ideals that generations have fought for. Those are the ideals that we uphold today,” Obama said. “And now, it is my honor to sign this bill into law.”

“There’s been a lot of progress in the last 10 years – despite the last four,” Osburn says. “It’s all been teed up by SLDN.”
But we still are not fully first-class citizens, though we now have the right to serve and die for our country. The Equality Act is next.
Commentary
IDAHOBiT a reminder we all must stand up against transphobia
Trans rights remain under attack in U.S., around the world
May 17 is the International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia, and Biphobia.
In 2026, transphobia is the biggest issue out there: all the stereotypes that were used against the LGBTQ community in general in the past are now used to attack the rights of transgender people and to create a moral panic against them. As a person who understood that they were not a girl — despite being assigned female at birth — since they were four, and who in their 30s had to wait in line for a gender clinic, I am obviously worried about this situation. Trans people continue to be seen less as people and more as part of an “agenda,” and there is a greater risk that the international trend of attacks on trans rights is just a first step in a broader attack on the LGBTQ community, and that soon bi, gay, and lesbian people will lose part of their hard-won rights to have the same protections and opportunities as heterosexual people.
When, in U.S. states such as Kansas, trans people face escalating legal and political restrictions on recognition that affect their everyday lives — for example, requiring their driving licenses to match the gender assigned at birth even after transition — while trans people in the U.S. are banned from military service and federal funding is stopped for gender-affirming care for trans youth, it is obvious to everyone that the problem is real. It is also global.
For example, there have been significant attacks on trans rights in the UK in recent years, especially against trans youth, many of whom have been denied gender-affirming care. The day when I finally found the energy to write this story was the day of the local British elections, when surprisingly many seats in city and town councils were won by the queerphobic populist Reform Party, creating some new Reform-dominated councils. Reform Party leader Nigel Farage has praised U.S. President Donald Trump and expressed admiration for Russian dictator Vladimir Putin — both of whom are known for endangering the lives of their trans citizens and rejecting trans identity as something that should be accepted.
So, who can challenge it? The general public often takes cues from public figures. Celebrities play a significant role in shaping public opinion and framing how different social issues are understood.
We need trans celebrities to speak up against transphobia when “anti-trans” celebrities like JK Rowling oppose our rights. It seemed that when conservatives around the globe stood up together to support each other, the trans community should unite, and trans celebrities should protect their trans siblings, while the broader LGB community should recognize the threat and unite around trans rights.
But not everything is so simple. Surprisingly, at a time of the greatest attack on trans rights in this century, many lesbian, gay, bi and even trans celebrities and influencers openly support transphobic policies and ideologies.
One of the clearest examples is Caitlyn Marie Jenner, a retired Olympic gold medal–winning decathlete and public figure known for her participation in the reality show “Keeping Up with the Kardashians.” She is one of the most famous trans people in the world.
From 2015 to 2016, she starred in the reality television series “I Am Cait”on E!, which focused on her gender transition and on telling a story to inspire the younger generation of trans people. In the first episode, Jenner also visited the mother of Kyler Prescott, a 14-year-old trans child who died by suicide earlier that year, and spoke openly about using her privilege to fight for awareness, equality, and dignity for trans people. The idea of supporting trans youth was one of the core themes of her TV series.
That was then.
Jenner’s perspective on trans rights became more and more transphobic. For example, in 2021 she opposed trans girls participating in girls’ school sports. In 2023, she launched a PAC campaign attacking trans youth rights. She also expressed support for Donald Trump and said about herself that she would never be a “real woman.”
Another famous example is transmasculine sex educator and activist Buck Angel, a former adult film actor. He was seen as a modern and progressive person in the 2000s and early 2010s, praised for increasing visibility for trans men through sex education, documentaries, public speaking, and media work. But later he started calling himself “transsexual” rather than “transgender,” following a more transphobic and rigid view of trans identity, and openly showed support for Trump and MAGA.
Of course, there are plenty of trans celebrities who continue to fight for trans rights — the most obvious example is Lana and Lilly Wachowski, notable film directors who gave us “The Matrix” films and the “Sense8” TV series. But the Wachowski sisters were known for being politically left-wing and progressive even before their transition. They are part of a progressive movement, not just a “famous trans person” like Jenner was.
So, why is this happening? Why have more mainstream and conservative trans celebrities, as well as some LGBTQ groups, turned away from trans rights? And what do we need to do?
One of the reasons is fear.
Popular and privileged people — whether they are socialites, actors or leaders of big organizations — are not used to being outcasts, and so they follow dominant trends. For them, the fear of not fitting in, being rejected by the audience and losing their position in society became bigger than their sense of justice. This is probably one of the reasons why some LGBTQ groups, such as the Log Cabin Republicans in the U.S., became more transphobic, or why the LGB Alliance in the UK became more popular.
Another reason is the polarization of society.
Some LGBTQ activists may hate me for saying this, but it is partly our fault. Mainstream trans communities sometimes make trans identity look like a “trend” or part of an ideology. The media — especially tabloids — are even more to blame for this stereotype than the trans community itself. When uninformed people hear about trans people today, many of them imagine left-wing, maybe even socialist, non-religious young supporters of Palestine who are good at understanding ecological issues and worried about global warming. Of course, many trans people are like that. But many are not. And those who are not often feel excluded and become more prone to public self-hatred.
It created a cycle in which people who did not feel part of the community started searching for an alternative that rejected them for being trans and encouraged them to accept transphobic rhetoric, betraying themselves and their trans siblings. This led to greater polarization and hatred against conservative trans people, pushing them even further away.
The International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia, and Biphobia needs to be a day when we stand up against all transphobia, including the kind expressed by trans people, while at the same time supporting all trans people, no matter how uncomfortable their views may be for us.
Commentary
Disillusioned about democracy? Think of it as a community garden
May 17 is the International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia, and Biphobia
A short walk from where I live, there is a community garden. People of all ages can participate in designing its areas and learn how to cultivate plants. Together, they build and maintain the space for the benefit of the entire community.
Democracy works the same way. It flourishes when people can bring their energy, knowledge, and presence to the common ground. It works precisely because most of us want to nurture neighborhoods where every life can flourish — no matter where we live, the color of our skin, or the food we enjoy on our tables.
But today, reactionary political movements and governments worldwide are poisoning our gardens with the invasive weeds of their authoritarian policies and exclusionary legislation. According to the CIVICUS Monitor, 73 percent of the world’s population lives in countries where governments repress fundamental civil society freedoms.
By now, we know the playbook. Whenever authoritarians seize our common garden, they drive out those they deem dispensable first. Very often, LGBTI people, racialized persons, and migrants are at the forefront of weathering the storm.
Only half a century ago, the wins that our movement has obtained seemed unthinkable. But those advances are always on the line, always one election away from the strongman of the hour deciding to unravel them.
On May 17, 1990, the World Health Organization removed homosexuality from the International Classification of Diseases (almost 30 years later, also in May, the removal of “gender identity disorder” followed.) The world celebrates this anniversary every year as the International Day against Homophobia, Transphobia, and Biphobia. This was a milestone in the global struggle for the rights of LGBTI people. Back then, 114 countries and territories worldwide still criminalized consensual same-sex sexual acts. Today, still 65 of them maintain those laws.
Progress has been steady. But in 2025, for the first time in years, that number started to grow again. Burkina Faso introduced a criminalizing law for the first time in its history. Trinidad and Tobago reversed recent gains. Senegal further tightened the threat after years of intensifying violence.
The obsession of legislators and policymakers with people’s bodies has translated into paroxysmal attacks against trans and intersex folks — from the 771 bills currently under consideration in the United States, to the disgraceful and misguided policy of the International Olympic Committee reintroducing sex testing and banning trans and intersex women athletes from competing in the female category.
And isn’t it ironic, really, that legislators worldwide put so much effort into driving LGBTI people out of public spaces, when at least 61 UN member states still have legal barriers that prevent civil society organizations working on sexual, gender and bodily diversity issues from formally registering and operating?
Political scientists Phillip Ayoub and Kristina Stoeckl, writing in the “Journal of Democracy”, show that illiberal governments deliberately deploy state-sponsored LGBTI-phobia to mobilize constituencies and frame liberal democracy as a cultural threat. These governments weaponise democratic pluralism for endless culture wars.
The playbook passes from one authoritarian to the next, activist Rémy Bonny showed. What started in Russia in 2013, with a law against the “promotion of non-traditional sexual relationships,” has grown into a pattern that illiberal leaders worldwide use to silence opposition and gain international influence amongst conservatives.
What makes this strategy particularly vicious is how it pits discriminated groups against one another. Time and again, reactionary people in power speak of “protecting women” just to attack trans and intersex people — manufacturing conflict among communities that, in fact, share a common struggle to protect the freedom to decide over their own bodies.
Whenever governments need to distract the public from their failures to create a better garden for everyone, they need a scapegoat. More often than not, it is LGBTI folks. Often, it is those fighting for safe abortions or against racism. Some other times, it is those advocating respectful relations with our land and natural resources. But the attacks never stop at a single movement. Case in point? Only 10 days ago, a government caved in to foreign influence and cancelled the largest global gathering on human rights in the digital age.
At ILGA World, we serve and work with LGBTI communities globally. We know that time and again, LGBTI people have resisted these pests, rolled up their sleeves alongside all the good people caring about their communities, and sown the seeds of change.
This year, the world will join to celebrate May 17 under the theme “At the heart of democracy.” Because, as disillusioned with the concept as people may be, deep down most of us believe that we all deserve a space where we can feel safe and thrive. And together, we can contribute to the beautiful, shared community garden that we deserve.
Julia Ehrt (she/her) is the Executive Director at ILGA World and a widely respected LGBTI activist and community leader.
Before joining ILGA World, she was the Executive Director of Transgender Europe, where she contributed significantly to how trans issues are perceived and debated today in Europe and beyond. She served as a founding Steering Committee member of the International Trans Fund (ITF) until 2019 and as a board member of the Association for Women’s Rights in Development (AWID) for six years. She is a member of the board of directors of the Astraea Lesbian Foundation for Justice, and a signatory to the Yogyakarta Principles plus 10.
Julia holds a PhD in mathematics and lives with her partner and child in Berlin and Geneva.
Commentary
‘Live Your Pride’ is much more than a slogan
Waves Ahead forced to cancel May 17 event in Puerto Rico
On May 5, I spoke by phone with Wilfred Labiosa, executive director of Waves Ahead, a Puerto Rico-based LGBTQ community organization that for years has provided mental health services, support programs, and safe spaces for vulnerable communities across the island. During our conversation, Labiosa confirmed every concern described in the organization’s public statement announcing the cancellation of “Live Your Pride,” an event scheduled for Sunday in the northwestern municipality of Isabela. But beyond the financial struggles and organizational challenges, what stayed with me most was the emotional weight behind his words. There was pain in his voice while describing what it means to watch spaces like these slowly disappear.
This was not simply the cancellation of a community event.
“Live Your Pride” had been envisioned as a celebration and affirming gathering for LGBTQ older adults and their allies in Puerto Rico. In a society where many LGBTQ elders spent decades hiding parts of themselves in order to survive, spaces like this carry enormous emotional and social significance. They become places where people can finally exist openly, without fear, apology, or shame.
That is why this cancellation matters far beyond Isabela.
What is happening in Puerto Rico cannot be separated from the broader political climate unfolding across the U.S. and its territories, where programs connected to diversity, inclusion, education, mental health, and LGBTQ visibility increasingly find themselves under political attack. These changes do not always arrive through dramatic announcements. More often, they happen quietly. Funding disappears. Community organizations weaken. Safe spaces become harder to sustain. Eventually, the absence itself begins to feel normal.
That normalization is dangerous.
For years, organizations like Waves Ahead have stepped into gaps left behind by institutions and governments, particularly in communities where LGBTQ people continue facing discrimination, social isolation, economic instability, and mental health struggles. Their work has never been limited to organizing events. It has involved accompanying people through loneliness, trauma, rejection, depression, aging, and survival itself.
“Live Your Pride” represented much more than entertainment. It represented visibility for LGBTQ older adults, many of whom survived decades of family rejection, religious exclusion, workplace discrimination, violence, and silence. These are individuals who came of age during years when living openly could cost someone employment, housing, relationships, or personal safety. Many learned to survive by making themselves invisible.
When spaces like this disappear, something deeply human is lost.
A gathering is canceled, yes, but so is an opportunity for healing, connection, recognition, and dignity. For many LGBTQ older adults, especially in smaller municipalities across Puerto Rico, these events are not secondary luxuries. They are reminders that their lives still matter in a society that too often treats aging and queer existence as disposable.
There are still political and religious sectors that portray the rainbow as some kind of ideological threat. But the rainbow does not erase anyone. It illuminates people and stories that society has often tried to ignore. It reflects the lives of young people forced out of their homes, transgender individuals targeted by violence, older adults aging in silence, and families that spent years defending their right to exist openly.
Perhaps that is precisely why the rainbow unsettles some people so deeply.
Its colors expose abandonment, hypocrisy, inequality, and fear. They force societies to confront realities that are easier to ignore than to address honestly. They reveal how fragile human dignity becomes when political agendas decide that certain communities are no longer worthy of protection, funding, or visibility.
The greatest concern here is not solely the cancellation of one event in one Puerto Rican town. The deeper concern is the message quietly taking shape behind decisions like these — the idea that some communities can wait, that some lives deserve fewer resources, and that safe spaces for vulnerable people are expendable during moments of political tension.
History has shown repeatedly how social regression begins. Rarely with one dramatic act. More often through exhaustion, silence, budget cuts, and the slow dismantling of organizations doing essential community work.
Even so, Waves Ahead made one thing clear in its statement. Although “Live Your Pride” has been canceled, the organization will continue providing mental health and community support services through its centers across Puerto Rico. That commitment matters because people do not survive on slogans alone. They survive because somewhere there are still open doors, trained professionals, supportive communities, and people willing to remain present when the world becomes colder and more hostile.
Puerto Rico should pay close attention to what this moment represents. No healthy society is built by weakening the organizations that care for vulnerable people. No government should feel comfortable watching community groups struggle to survive while attempting to provide services and compassion that public institutions themselves often fail to offer.
The rainbow has never been the problem.
The real problem is the discomfort created when its colors force society to confront the wounds, inequalities, and human realities that too many people would rather keep hidden.
