Opinions
Politicians should stop using children as political punching bags
Let us hold leaders accountable for their vicious self-centeredness
Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis’s recent signing of the “Don’t Say Gay” bill was a body blow to the LGBTQ+ community — particularly for those of us who trust in our schools to provide a safe and welcoming space for our children.
But it was what the governor’s press secretary, Christina Pushaw, tweeted earlier in March that made my heart leap into my throat. “If you’re against the Anti-Grooming bill, you are probably a groomer.”
As the former executive director of GLSEN, I know a dog whistle when I hear it. And I also know that politicians who have ambitions of running for higher office, like DeSantis, choose their words extremely carefully.
DeSantis is deliberately activating a cultural fear tactic to scare schools and educators away from providing LGBTQ+ children and their families with potentially life-saving support. And unfortunately he is far from alone in going down this dangerous path of spouting hate for political leverage.
Throughout the historic Supreme Court confirmation hearings of Ketanji Brown Jackson, we saw Sens. Ted Cruz, Josh Hawley, and others bring the specter of child indoctrination into the national discussion in the context of race. In doing so, they were following the lead of Christopher Rufo, a conservative activist-journalist known for creating an all-purpose header for all things controversial out of the label “critical race theory” (CRT).
This began to take shape last year with the intentional mischaracterization of schools implementing diversity, equity and inclusion programs as attempts to indoctrinate our kids with divisive leftist ideals. Starting with Hawley’s attacks on Judge Jackson, they upped the ante by accusing schools of “grooming” children to be anti-racist — this time drawing from the QAnon playbook.
Radical politicians push legislation like the “Don’t Say Gay” bill, or vile rhetoric like the insinuations about Judge Jackson, in order to further their agenda of dismantling our children’s access to a good, truly multicultural public education by sowing confusion and distrust, as was openly stated by Rufo at a speaking event at Hillsdale College earlier in April. All the while, they create a deeply dangerous environment for some of our most vulnerable children.
And their timing could not be more dire. This deluge of bad policymaking and shrill rhetoric is happening at the exact moment when we are experiencing a national mental health crisis among our youth. Nearly four out of 10 teens reported feeling “persistently sad or hopeless,” according to CDC data — a 40 percent increase from pre-pandemic levels.
Black and LGBTQ+ students in particular are more likely than their peers to have attempted suicide, and when politicians use them as political chips to be played, it compounds those risks. Never mind the fact that schools’ efforts to undo racism and anti-LGBTQ+ bias and violence is itself an investment in these children’s survival. Black adolescents experience multiple instances of racial discrimination every day, one study found, with real consequences for their mental health. Schools need to play an active role in rectifying that.
In my 20 years at GLSEN, I wrote far too many condolence letters to parents who lost a child to suicide. Some politicians see no harm in shaming and stigmatizing vulnerable children.
We’ve seen lately this onrush of harmful, self-centered behavior from those in a position of public trust. But on the other end of the spectrum, is Spencer Cox: the Republican governor of Utah who recently issued a brilliant letter explaining his veto of an anti-trans sports bill passed by the state legislature.
Vetoing the bill, which would have banned trans girls from participating in women’s sports in public schools, was surely a politically unpopular move in a deep-red state. But after thoughtfully considering the issues, reviewing key research, and weighing the competing needs of stakeholders, Cox took a stand in defense of some of Utah’s most vulnerable children.
For all those who rise to the calling of public service, there’s a choice to be made. Gov. Cox made the choice to safeguard the most vulnerable youth in his state despite the political implications. I sincerely hope that in this critical moment, more of our country’s leaders will follow his example.
And should it take more than their own consciences to do so, let us all hold leaders accountable for the impact of their immoral self-centeredness on all of our children.
Eliza Byard is a senior adviser to the Campaign for Our Shared Future, a leading global expert on LGBTQ+ issues in K-12 education and youth development, and served as executive director of GLSEN from 2008-2021.
Opinions
Independent parliamentary candidate campaign fulfilled my right as a queer Motswana
Botswana’s 13th general election took place Oct. 30
I had the privilege to run as an independent candidate for parliament during Botswana’s recent and most historic election. While I was not elected, my privilege to exercise my right to stand as a citizen was fulfilled, most notably, as an out and proudly queer feminist nonbinary individual in my youth.
There are many reasons that lead to my decision to run, one of them being the anti-LGBTI developments that were occurring in my country, along with several others across Africa. Most notably, when our speaker of parliament attended a regional meeting on African sovereignty and values veiled against anything human rights related: Including reproductive and queer rights.
I could not understand how a member of parliament could question the fundamental basis of having three arms of government because of a court of appeal ruling that affirmed our rights as queer people. I could not understand how the church could protest against a constitutional review bill but not the corruption, gender based violence or poverty across the country. I could not understand how elected leaders could not publicly defend the rights of indigenous peoples that were consistently trampled on by the executive. I could not, sit with all I know and advocate for, allow for public discourse to perpetuate harmful gender norms and a lack of accountability from government. What I could do was stand for my rights in contrast to what I have done before in my activism — as a parliamentary candidate.
This is a mark of progress, from a country that previously denied LGBT registration to decriminalizing same-sex intimacy. It has been a frustrating journey of gaslighting erasure on a personal and professional level. I’ve had several undesirable encounters with law enforcement ranging from threats to be shot to having my phone confiscated. I have seen government absolve itself from accountability to its people while presenting itself as a beacon at the United Nations in Geneva and New York. These are not in isolation and neither am I special, as many queer Batswana continue to be questioned because their national identity cards present differently from who they are or how they dress in person. More importantly, how countrywide poverty, inequity disenfranchised my people are. Including those living with HIV, with disabilities, sex workers, indigenous people, ethnic minorities, and migrants among many others.
We continuously have to fight for our dignity as stigma and discrimination strip away at our personhood and humanity. Whether in convenience stores, banking halls, or government service point — identity serves as a barrier to “Setho” in Setswana or “Ubuntu” in Zulu. All these challenges aside, I have often questioned how many more sanitary pads to donate, petitions to make, and radio interviews to do to achieve meaningful change. The many theories of change and M&E frameworks I have contributed to have not done enough. The projects I have designed, campaigned through, and deemed a “success” have yet to meaningfully shift realities across the country.
It is this conundrum I have to fight with. Where my conscience has to answer whether it’s enough to raise awareness or translate human rights documents into local languages. Whether it’s enough that I have written too many reports to count or assisted too many survivors as a form of my own healing. While these questions linger at the back of my mind, I am privileged to draw from the likes of Hajiya Gambo Sawaba (Nigeria), Nomzamo Winifred Zanyiwe Madikizela-Mandela (South Africa), Dr. Stella Nyanzi (Uganda), and many other feminists who have stood against injustice and taken up general elections candidacy in their quest for justice. I find glee in the fact that this gives opportunity to another somewhere within our challenging continent, to take up the battle for queer liberation in an era that continuously wants to deny us belonging and becoming.
Dumi Gatsha is a consultant and founder of Success Capital Organization, a grassroots NGO working in the nexus of human rights and sustainable development at grassroots, regional, and global levels.
Opinions
A final plea: Vote for Kamala Harris
For the sake of our democracy there is no other choice
I have written, and talked my heart out to those within the sound of my voice, to get them to vote, and vote for Kamala Harris. I truly believe for the sake of our democracy, and literally for so many lives, there is no other choice.
I, like so many others, was appalled, and frightened, when listening to Trump’s Madison Square Garden rally. Yes, it was reminiscent of a Nazi rally held there in 1939, and Trump knew that. After all, it has been reported by one of his wives, he has had three and cheated on all of them, that he had Hitler’s Mein Kampf, on his nightstand at one point. The speakers at the rally were truly insane, and managed to insult every ethnic and religious group in the nation, maybe with one exception; male, Caucasian, Christians. One speaker called all Puerto Ricans garbage, when actually the garbage were the speakers on the platform. The speakers, who Trump chose, insulted women, African Americans, all Latinos, the LGBTQ+ community, Jews (yes, he has actually said there are things about Hitler he admires), and all immigrants. They managed to play Dixie before an African American Congressperson from Florida took the stage, and apparently, they, and even he, thought it was OK. They had the drunk Rudy Guiliani there, and one of Oprah’s biggest mistakes, Dr. Phil. It was a sickening spectacle.
But there is some hope it just may have been the Trump campaign’s biggest mistake. Those who cheered what was said, are already his voters. But so many Independents, and remaining decent Republicans, may have been turned off and scared enough, by what they heard, to vote for Harris. There are enough Puerto Ricans in some of the swing states to make the difference for Harris. As I have written, and so many have said, “believe him when he speaks,” because while he lies about policy and facts, he is saying his truths on the culture wars, no matter how disgusting they sound. Those around him share his views and will be part of his administration should he win. They will be the ones to implement Project 2025, and they will be the ones screwing all our allies. They will be the ones to forfeit Ukraine to Putin, and end any hope for the Palestinian people to ever live safe, secure, and happy lives, in a state of their own.
Trump can be accurately and truthfully described as; old, a convicted felon, found liable for sexual assault, racist, sexist, homophobic pig. This is what those people with their MAGA hats want as their President. So sad for them because he will happily screw them once he is elected. He will give tax breaks to millionaire and billionaire friends, he will happily break unions, he will stop all women from controlling their own bodies, he will put tariffs on all imported goods costing each family an estimated $4,000 a year. Project 2025 suggests ending the Federal Deposit Insurance Fund, so when your bank goes under, you will lose any money you have there. He doesn’t care!
I grew up in a different time in politics. My heroes were John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, and Martin Luther King, Jr. Yes, they were all assassinated, and we grieved for them as a nation. But as a nation we used our grief to make changes for the better. We passed civil rights laws, and passed a voting rights act. We managed to pass some gun control legislation, and it made a difference. I stayed involved in politics because of them, I cared. Martin Luther King, Jr., who I was honored to meet and talk with when I was sixteen, told me “One person can make a difference if they care enough, and are willing to work hard to do it.” I took that to heart my whole life. Today that difference is to ensure the election of Kamala Harris, and the defeat of Donald Trump. It is actually a fight between good and evil, as he is truly evil. He is venal, and doesn’t care who he hurts or screws. He has said he will use the Justice Department and the Internal Revenue Service to wreak revenge on his enemies. He has said he wants to be a dictator on day one. I can’t say it enough, or loud enough, BELIEVE HIM!
So, on November 5th if you haven’t cast your ballot yet, come out and vote for Kamala Harris. Please understand, your one vote will make a difference for all Americans, and truly, for the world.
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
Opinions
Our existence is non-negotiable: A call to action for trans rights
Your vote is an act of defiance
BY MARCUS DAVIS | Over the past four decades, I’ve witnessed a transformation in our society that once seemed unimaginable. As a child of the 80s, being transgender meant living under a constant shadow of fear, with violence and exclusion always nearby. But we fought back. We organized, we carved out spaces where trans people could live with more freedom.
This fight for recognition and safety has been long and arduous. In 2002, New York passed the Sexual Orientation Non-Discrimination Act (SONDA), but transgender people were deliberately left out — a painful compromise that left us exposed. I remember the mixture of hope and frustration during those years, as I attended my first community meetings and rallies. Our focus shifted to passing the Gender Expression Non-Discrimination Act (GENDA). Each legislative delay was a stark reminder that our rights were not a priority. For Black trans people like myself, the stakes were even higher, as we navigated multiple layers of discrimination without legal protection.
GENDA finally passed in 2019, but that victory came after years of being told our safety and dignity were negotiable. Now, as anti-trans laws sweep the country, I feel that familiar shadow looming again. These bills banning gender-affirming care, forcing schools to out trans students, and criminalizing our existence aren’t just policy decisions — they’re calculated efforts to erase us, to drive us back into fear and silence. The darkness we thought we’d escaped is closing in, and this time, it’s targeting our youth.
As a trans person working at the forefront of racial justice with the Movement for Black Lives, I have witnessed how anti-trans laws amplify the oppression already faced by the most vulnerable members of our community. This fight is more than a cause for me, it is about protecting the lives and futures of my community, my family, and myself. Here I want to simply say: To every trans person feeling the weight of these laws, feeling isolated or afraid; You are not alone. You are part of a legacy of resilience, of beauty, of revolution. Your life is precious, your identity is valid, and your future is worth fighting for. Together, we will weather this storm. Together, we will build the world we deserve — a world where every one of us can stand in the fullness of our identities, unafraid and unapologetic. Our freedom is bound up together, and together, we will win.
Our survival depends on our ability to understand these threats and mobilize against them. Knowledge is our weapon, and action is our shield.
Erasing our existence: The battle in education
Imagine Aisha, a 14-year-old trans girl in South Carolina, navigating a school system shaped by current anti-trans laws. Under H.3730, passed by the Republican-controlled House and signed into law by the Republican governor, Aisha’s daily life at school has become a minefield. Each day, she enters a classroom where her teachers are legally bound to deny her identity. The simple act of asking to be called by her chosen name could trigger a mandatory report to her family, exposing her to rejection and isolation at home. Even her allies, teachers who might have offered comfort, are forced into silence, unable to provide the affirmation and protection she so desperately needs. The school, once a place of potential, has become a space of fear and surveillance.
Now imagine Aisha is also Black. The weight of these laws compounds with the systemic racism she might also be facing. For Aisha, each classroom can become a minefield where both her gender and racial identities can be scrutinized or challenged. These laws don’t just isolate; they amplify existing prejudices, embolden discrimination, and silence allies. They broadcast a clear message to students like Aisha: You are not welcome here.
A matter of life and death: The healthcare battlefield
For Aisha and thousands of trans youth like her, healthcare isn’t just about feeling seen — it’s a lifeline. Gender-affirming care, particularly puberty blockers, gives young trans people the time and space to explore their identities safely, delaying the permanent physical changes that come with puberty. This care offers trans youth the gift of a pause, preventing the distress of their bodies developing in ways that don’t align with their gender. But across the country, these lifelines are being cut. In states like South Carolina, laws banning puberty blockers for minors are leaving young people trapped in bodies they cannot recognize or accept.
For young people like Aisha, the barriers to care are even more devastating. Already navigating a healthcare system rife with racial bias, Black trans people often struggle to access affirming care. Now, with these bans, even that limited access is being stripped away. Without puberty blockers, Aisha is forced to endure the changes of puberty that feel alien and distressing, deepening her sense of isolation. These laws don’t just deny treatment — they send a message that her identity is something to be punished, not supported.
The consequences are deadly. Transgender youth already face alarmingly high rates of mental health challenges, with studies showing that over half of trans teens have seriously considered suicide. Yet, access to gender-affirming care dramatically reduces this risk. According to research from the Trevor Project, trans youth who receive gender-affirming care are significantly less likely to attempt suicide compared to those who want care and are unable to access it. Lawmakers who strip away this care are not just endangering the well-being of these young people, they are pushing them toward life-threatening crises. For Black trans youth, who often lack strong support networks, the denial of care can push them to the edge. This is not just a political debate — it’s a matter of survival.
Our resilience is our strength
In the face of this relentless onslaught, it would be easy to lose hope. But trans people, especially Black trans people, have always lived in defiance of the systems designed to erase us. Our very existence is an act of resistance.
But resistance alone is not enough. We don’t resist just to make a point — we resist because our lives depend on it. We resist because we envision a world where trans children can grow up without fear, where Black trans lives are valued and protected, where our identities are celebrated rather than criminalized.
To build this world, we — trans people and our allies — must transform challenge into change. We must convert our anger into action. Every time they try to erase us from classrooms, we show up louder and prouder in our communities. Every time they attempt to deny us healthcare, we fight harder for universal access to affirming care. Every time they try to silence us, we speak our truths more boldly.
We cannot afford silence. On Nov. 5 and in every election — from the presidency to your local school board — your vote is an act of defiance. By casting your ballot, you are directly challenging the systems and laws designed to erase trans people from public life.
Visit m4bl.link/VOTE to make your voting plan. Choose candidates who most closely align with your values. These may not be your ideal options. The political landscape is complex, and no candidate is perfect. But make no mistake — there is a clear difference in values between the choices before us. We’ve come too far, fought too hard, and have too much at stake to back down now. Our health is non-negotiable. Our education is our right. Our lives are sacred. And we will continue to fight, to love, to thrive, not in the shadows, but in the full light of day.
Marcus Davis is the director of integrated technology at the Movement for Black Lives, where he oversees cybersecurity, and digital infrastructure to support nationwide movement building and community empowerment.
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