Opinions
Appreciating lesbian thinker, activist Urvashi Vaid
‘A whip-smart lesbian of color who stood up and fought’
Urvashi Vaid was whip smart. She could look at you with some analysis spinning behind her eyes and then smile a deep broad smile and you could exhale as a shared vision started coursing through your veins — a warrior sisterhood striving and fighting for liberation.
And you didn’t even know liberation was on your wish-list.
It’s hard to register that Urvashi Vaid is gone.
Urvashi could seduce your brain with elevated and clear-spoken common sense. And damn if she couldn’t rile you up and spur you to action as she did in Sacramento in 1991 after Republican Gov. Pete Wilson vetoed AB 101, the gay rights bill he promised to sign, and with her 1993 speech at the March on Washington.
And we needed that. After years of excruciating pain losing lovers, family and friends while Ronald Reagan’s spokesperson laughed about the scourge of AIDS in the White House press room, a serious LGBTQ political movement was emerging in the late 1980s. And igniting those righteous flames of fury was this short, thin, proud lesbian of South Indian heritage who exuded the perfume of power. She knew her stuff. And she was at ease with powerbrokers, including Hollywood A+ types who made history attending an August 1991 benefit for the National Gay & Lesbian Task Force, thrown by gay Hollywood manager Barry Krost, entertainment attorney Alan Hergott and Hergott’s lover, NGLTF Board co-chair Curt Shepard. Hollywood was finally showing up for AIDS benefits — but gay rights was still just too controversial. It was a very big deal.
Among our own, Urvashi would let fools yammer on with puffed-up opinions. But eventually she would halt us with a glance, a quick quip or a concise Marxist-ish dissertation on any situation and its connection to poverty, rendering you dumbstruck, agog – pick a synonym.
Urvashi was a teacher, a mentor — though I don’t think she thought of herself that way. She was merely trying to help a brother or sister — especially younger folks — learn to think differently, think for themselves, and think of themselves as part of the larger movement for civil rights.
One moment perfectly captures that for me. I was a freelancer covering the monumental 1992 Creating Change conference in Los Angeles. That was the year when esteemed gay author Paul Monette (Borrowed Time) ripped up a picture of the Pope, freaking out a lot of Catholic Latinos. I kept an eye on Urvashi and her pal Torie Osborn, head of the LA Gay & Lesbian Community Services Center, as they talked art with closeted LA City Councilmember Joel Wachs, as well as the usual leadership discussions, debates and skirmishes among activists in a heightened political year.
I also covered breakout sessions and one proved to be particularly daunting. It was a discussion about race in the gay movement. A young fierce gay Asian artist named Joel B. Tan took over the discussion and challenged my press credentials, my commitment to the movement, and my ability to report ANYTHING accurately or fairly about that meeting because I’m white. He called for a vote on whether I should be allowed to stay or get kicked out.
Some folks in the room, familiar with my reporting since the late 1980s, defended me. I was prepared to get shamefully kicked out when Joel went just a tad too far and started claiming the Task Force itself was a cauldron of white racism. In fact, the whole damn gay movement was basically a rich white gay conspiracy to get power and use everyone else as pawns.
When Joel finally took a breath, a muffled sound came from just outside the room. We looked and there was Urvashi, casually leaning on the door jamb with Phill Wilson, then co-founder of the National Black Gay & Lesbian Leadership Forum and of the LA chapter of Black and White Men Together. “What about us?” Urv asked very simply. The tension evaporated, I was allowed to stay and racism within the gay community was discussed with passion but without grandstanding. (I called Joel later and he said my report was acceptable.)
The tension eased so quickly because Urvashi had been fighting systemic racism at every level for a very long time, including within the gay community. Her power was smarts, compassion, humor — and credibility.
Not to say Urvashi was perfect. In fact, I had a serious disagreement with her over an incident that happened in Los Angeles. There was a ballot initiative that called for a new statewide Insurance Commissioner to be appointed by the governor. APLA Board Chair Dr. Scott Hitt and political consultant David Mixner opposed the initiative, which drove some AIDS activists crazy. We were in the middle of the second wave of AIDS and we needed government help. Hitt and Mixner explained that they didn’t oppose the idea, just the method: the Insurance Commissioner should be elected, not appointed. Imagine if we had a governor more horrific than Pete Wilson?
I reported that and activist writer Stuart Timmons freaked out. He wrote a 7,000 word thesis in a treading-water alternative weekly bashing Hitt and Mixner. He also showed up at my apartment screaming about how I was afraid of these prominent politicos. I was pissed — so I did my own deep dive into his tome and found people who complained that he quoted them out of context or actually changed their quotes to fit his activist premise. Eventually, we all moved on, including me since Stuart was friends with my friend Harry Hay.
But then Urvashi quoted extensively from Stuart’s disinformation piece in her book Virtual Equality: The Mainstreaming of Gay and Lesbian Liberation. I tried to reach her but failed. I later heard her cite Stuart’s story as an example of bad gays. I fumed for a moment, then let that go, too.
Besides, Urvashi was doing so much good. And her relationship with Kate Clinton was so cool and extraordinary. I learned what a “soft butch” was — but that’s another story.
Urvashi Vaid is appropriately being lauded as an exemplary warrior for justice and civil rights. I remember her as a whip-smart lesbian of color who stood up and fought but also offered peace and hope when possible — as she did appearing with conservative gay writer/editor Andrew Sullivan on the Charlie Rose show before the 1993 march.
Last July, Urvashi was the guest on Gay USA, anchored by her friends Ann Northrop and Andy Humm. She talked about the National LGBTQ+ Women’s Survey, an American LGBTQ+ Museum — and about fighting breast cancer. Urv seemed upbeat but a burdened aura of mortality cloaked her Zoom appearance. She seemed determined to approach death as she had lived — educating people about our ongoing fight for liberation and, with a deep, broad smile and thoughtful eyes, telling the truth about her own humanity.
Thank you, Urvashi Vaid.
Karen Ocamb is a longtime journalist and former news editor of the Los Angeles Blade.
Opinions
Victory Fund continues to shun me and my place in LGBTQ history
Before Buttigieg, my presidential campaign made headlines
I am honored to be speaking this weekend at the National Council for the Social Studies Annual Conference (NCSS), made up of 5,000 teachers from across the county. I will be talking about my history-making campaign for president back in 2012, when I ran as the first openly gay major party candidate to do so.
I will be joining many other prominent featured speakers, including Supreme Court Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson, Washington, D.C. Episcopal Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde, Dr. Richard Haas, and House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries. This engagement was arranged by the prestigious History UnErased, and I will talk about my roller coaster run for president
It was a hard-fought, two-and-a-half year, full-time campaign in the Republican primaries. I appeared on six state ballots, gave hundreds of speeches, did thousands of media interviews and attracted thousands of volunteers, donors, and voters. In fact, when the primaries ended, I had received more votes than two former governors, Jon Huntsman, Jr. (Utah) and Gary Johnson (New Mexico).
My constant message to the LGBTQ community was, you can do anything you want to do in life, even run for president of the United States. I heard from so many people young and old that I was giving them newfound hope.
Eight years later, when openly gay Mayor Pete Buttigieg ran for president, I endorsed him in February 2019, served on his National Finance Committee, and did a lot of surrogate work on his behalf. We developed a strong bond, being the only two openly gay candidates to ever run for president. He told me, “You’re a trailblazer who made it a little easier for those who follow your path.”
I applied pressure on many of the nation’s largest LGBTQ organizations to endorse Pete early, when it would make a difference. I wrote op-eds in Newsweek and the Advocate urging the LGBTQ Victory Fund, HRC, The Task Force and many others to support Pete. Eventually the reluctant Victory Fund came around and endorsed Pete at a big splashy campaign event in Brooklyn on June 28, 2019 during WorldPride.
That early support from the nation’s sole organization to help propel openly LGBTQ candidates to victory, made a huge difference in Pete’s success.
I was not as fortunate. One of the first meetings I had was with Chuck Wolfe, the then head of the Victory Fund in January 2010. He blurted out, “we’re not going to help you!” And true to his word, they actually worked to hinder my historic run. They made me submit a number of applications including a 56-page campaign plan and budget. Several months after delivering it, Chuck told me they would not even put my endorsement to a vote. “You don’t want to know,” he told me. “Yes, I do,” I replied.
I have met with or spoken to all of his successors at the Victory Fund, offering my help and asking for some sort of recognition of my historic campaign. Finally in 2018, after a lot of negotiations, then-President Annise Parker gave me one sentence in their Under Our History section on their website.
I have been an LGBTQ activist and major donor since I worked closely with David Mixner to defeat the Briggs Initiative in 1978, which would have outlawed gay teachers in California. I spent 30 years as a political consultant. Since 2008, I became the only one, through my organization Californians Against Hate, to fight back against the mega donors to California’s Proposition 8 and other anti-same-sex marriage campaigns.
I shamed millionaires and billionaires and even the all-powerful Mormon Church, who funded and ran all these hateful campaigns. The New York Times published a full page column three years ago on all I did to help gay marriage become the law of the land, “Cancel Culture Works. We Wouldn’t Have Marriage Equality Without It.”
So, I’ve earned my stripes. That is why I find it ironic that while I am speaking to the 5,000-member NCSS gathering in Washington, the same weekend that the LGBTQ Victory Fund is holding its annual Victory Institute gathering a few blocks away, while they continue to shun me and my rightful place in history.
Fred Karger is the first openly gay major party candidate to run for president.
Thank you, Mayor Muriel Bowser, for all you have done for our beautiful city. I am proud to say I have been a supporter of yours since you first announced your run for City Council in Ward 4, when you took some of my suggestions for your first speech. I have known since then what an amazing woman, politician, leader, and now mother, you are. You have moved our city forward in so many ways no one could have anticipated when you were first elected.
You have always proven your mettle, and your ability to rise above the chaos, and done the right thing for all the people of the District. Whether it was during economic uncertainty created by others, the pandemic, the backlash against police after the murder of George Floyd, during the first Trump administration, or the ongoing crisis, continuing today after the felon was elected for a second time. This time, contrary to his first term, he has even more venal people around him. They are acting out their fascist beliefs, and directing him, as he threatens the very basis of home rule. You have stood your ground, and done it with grace and smarts. You managed to work through the budget crisis, and Congress’s attempt to derail all the progress you have made, by not letting us spend a billion dollars of our own money. You have been walking a tightrope, and managing to keep our city from falling into his hands. Not everyone has understood how difficult that has been.
Then you managed to get James Comer (R-Ken.), chair of the House Oversight Committee, to support your efforts to have 180 acres of valuable land, the RFK site, turned over to the District for redevelopment. After that, you achieved your goal of getting the Commanders to agree to move back to D.C.; in the process securing the largest private investment ever for the District, the $3.7 billion the team’s owners agreed to pay to build a new domed stadium. That being only the catalyst for an entire new community with 6,000 units of housing, including affordable housing, a supermarket, hotel, sports complex for students in D.C., parks, nature trails, and more.
While balancing budgets and fighting crime, you have had to deal with the felon in the White House every day. Some accused you of acquiescing to the felon when what you were actually doing was saving our city from the even worse disasters he could visit upon us.
You understood to rebuild the economy Trump and the pandemic worked to destroy, you needed to look at other options. You rightly determined part of what D.C. needed to grow was a sports economy. When Monumental Sports owner Ted Leonsis was trying to move the Capitals and his business out of the District for pure greed; you worked behind the scenes and successfully kept them here. Prior to that you engineered a public/private partnership between the city, and DC United, to get Audi field built.
Then besides sports you have worked with the private sector to begin the work of converting empty office buildings in the downtown area, into apartments, which will generate new needed taxes for the District. You oversaw the reconstruction of the Frederick Douglass Memorial Bridge, and the redevelopment of the South Capitol Street corridor. Along with all this you have overseen the rebuilding of schools, sports fields, recreation centers, and libraries across the city. In the past five years you have added nearly 10,000 affordable housing units in the District, built new shelters for the homeless, and a new hospital in Southeast D.C.
You have fought for fairness and equality for the LGBTQ community. You didn’t just walk in our parades, but worked to make them successful. You added budget money to build a new LGBTQ community center, and money to support WorldPride, while the felon’s policies threatened it in every way. After years of many of us trying to get the city to take responsibility, and fund, the annual High Heel Race, you were the mayor who finally agreed to do it. You have always stood proudly with the LGBTQ community that I am a part of, in large and small ways, both in public and privately.
You now have one more year to serve as mayor, and I can’t wait to see what you will yet accomplish. It will not be an easy time, as we saw the day after you announced you would not run again. You, and we, faced the tragic shooting of the two National Guard members from West Virginia, who walked our streets at the felon’s orders. But I am confident your energy and drive, your smarts, and understanding of people, will allow you to deal with this and won’t let you stop working for us until the minute the next mayor of the District of Columbia is sworn in at noon, Jan. 1, 2027.
It is clear to all of us, that person, he, or she, will have very large shoes to fill. Mayor Bowser, we all owe you a debt of gratitude for all you have done for D.C. I for one look forward to all you will do in the future; in whatever area you choose to work. I know your work is far from done.
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
Today, on World AIDS Day, we honor the resilience, courage, and dignity of people living with HIV everywhere especially refugees, asylum seekers, and queer displaced communities across East Africa and the world.
For many, living with HIV is not just a health journey it is a journey of navigating stigma, borders, laws, discrimination, and survival.
Yet even in the face of displacement, uncertainty, and exclusion, queer people living with HIV continue to rise, thrive, advocate, and build community against all odds.
To every displaced person living with HIV:
• Your strength inspires us.
• Your story matters.
• You are worthy of safety, compassion, and the full right to health.
• You deserve a world where borders do not determine access to treatment, where identity does not determine dignity, and where your existence is celebrated not criminalized.
Let today be a reminder that:
• HIV is not a crime.
• Queer identity is not a crime.
• Seeking safety is not a crime.
• Stigma has no place in our communities.
• Access to treatment, care, and protection is a human right.
As we reflect, we must recommit ourselves to building systems that protect not punish displaced queer people living with HIV. We must amplify their voices, invest in inclusive healthcare, and fight the inequalities that fuel vulnerability.
Hope is stronger when we build it together.
Let’s continue to uplift, empower, and walk alongside those whose journeys are too often unheard.
Today we remember.
Today we stand together.
Today we renew hope.
Abraham Junior lives in the Gorom Refugee Settlement in South Sudan.
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