Commentary
Criminalization of sex work not only violates human rights; it adds to HIV and LGBTQ+ stigma
Human Rights Day is Dec. 10
I have accomplished many goals in my life that fill me with pride. I am an international advocate for Aidsfonds in the Netherlands — promoting the work of the Global Fund to fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria. I am active in politics, with a focus on advocating for the LGBTQ+ community and the destigmatization for people with HIV.
However, one of my biggest accomplishments that I am most proud of is being a male sex worker and an advocate for sex workers. I have been a sex worker for over a decade.
I remember I was not comfortable with the idea initially, as I had political aspirations. I was also afraid that if I did sex work it would have negative consequences — especially in terms of safety and sexually transmitted infections (STIs). So, I rejected the notion. Later, I started doubting that initial decision, as I wanted to travel and was making very little money at the time. I also became more open about sexual freedom and not being monogamous.
I was extremely nervous when I met my first client — especially because of societal notions around safety and sex work. However, I soon realized my client was more nervous than me — especially because he was married to a woman and was not out about his sexuality. That made me realize that clients also have vulnerabilities. This reminded me of myself and so I became much more comfortable from then on with sex work. It was interesting to see how people share their sexual secrets that they cannot share with anybody except with the sex worker. As a sex worker, you see unique insight into the sexual lives and secrets of people, and I always found that captivating.
Yet, sex work can also be dangerous for those operating in countries where it is deemed illegal. It’s harder to have protections in place or turn to authorities if you’re assaulted. As many sex workers are women and from the LGBTQ+ community, the criminalization of sex work causes further inequality of women and LGBTQ+ people in society, while increasing stigma around HIV.
Organizations like the Global Fund tailor services to the specific needs of these populations. At each stage, key populations are involved in the design, implementation and monitoring of health services, as well as in policy decisions that affect them. The Global Fund also provides intensive support to countries to vastly scale up evidence-based programming to reduce human rights-related barriers to HIV, TB and malaria services through an initiative called the Breaking Down Barriers initiative.
When I finally started to settle in as a sex worker, I felt that I could not be open, as I was afraid of implications for my future career and rejection. This element of stigma plays a very big role. When you are a sex worker and HIV positive on top of that — these are things you can cope with but it’s very hard to if no one around you knows. If something happens or you’re feeling down, you have no one to turn to.
At that point I said to myself if I want to break open that stigma; I have a responsibility to speak out because when we speak out and share our stories then we can break the stigma.
The Netherlands is one of the few countries in the world where sex workers are not a risk for HIV anymore. The reason for that is sex work in the Netherlands is legalized. And in every major city there are health centers specialized in ensuring they do outreach to sex workers, offering free tests and treatments and stigma free information.
Inequality is holding the fight against AIDS back. According to a UNAIDS report, sex workers who live in countries where sex work is considered a criminal act have a seven times greater chance of living with HIV than in countries where sex work is legalized.
In 2003, New Zealand decriminalized the profession of sex work and began to regulate the industry. Within five years, the number of people within the industry had not increased but instead improved the safety of sex workers who had the ability to refuse certain clients and it also led to greater trust in the police. Belgium decided to replicate the New Zealand model this year. Other countries such as South Africa have proposed a bill to decriminalize sex work and earlier this year, India issues directives for protecting the well-being and fundamental rights of sex workers under the country’s constitution.
Even in The Netherlands — where sex work is legal — some of my colleagues’ still experience stigma when visiting general health care professionals; so, they aren’t comfortable disclosing their sex work, which is very important for medical assessments.
When implementing decriminalization measures providing specialized centers with staff that are trained with handling sex workers is extremely important, but these types of centers are only possible if sex workers are not considered criminals — otherwise seeking out medical treatment is seen as risky.
There are also specialized social workers and doctors that have a good sense of how to communicate with sex workers. I do feel there’s a lot of support, testing and information available in the Netherlands and it is proof of that a country can accomplish a reduction in HIV amongst sex workers — once you decriminalize sex work and provide good, inclusive health services.
I believe that being a sex worker is an absolute human right. And having access to healthcare clinics and access to HIV services as a sex worker is vital. These benefits can only be realized through protecting the safety and human rights of marginalized people
The pandemic over the past few years has highlighted the gaping inequality in healthcare for marginalized people. Tackling these global health inequalities can help put the fight against epidemics, such as AIDS, back on track. My hope for Human Rights Day this year is that governments focus on equalizing health services for vulnerable key populations, as well as creating an environment where they feel comfortable to seek help around HIV testing, support and awareness. No person should feel nervous or lack the ability to access medical help because of unjust stigma and shame associated with the work they do.
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.
Commentary
Perfection is a lie and vulnerability is the new strength
Rebuilding life and business after profound struggles
I grew up an overweight, gay Black boy in West Baltimore, so I know what it feels like not to fit into a world that was not really made for you. When I was 18, my mother passed from congestive heart failure, and fitness became a sanctuary for my mental health rather than just a place to build my body. That is the line I open most speeches with when people ask who I am and why I started SWEAT DC.
The truth is that little boy never really left me.
Even now, at 42 years old, standing 6 feet 3 inches and 225 pounds as a fitness business owner, I still carry the fears, judgments, and insecurities of that broken kid. Many of us do. We grow into new seasons of life, but the messages we absorbed when we were young linger and shape the stories we tell ourselves. My lack of confidence growing up pushed me to chase perfection as I aged. So, of course, I ended up in Washington, D.C., which I lovingly call the most perfection obsessed city in the world.
Chances are that if you are reading this, you feel some of that too.
D.C. is a place where your resume walks through the door before you do, where degrees, salaries, and the perfect body feel like unspoken expectations. In the age of social media, the pressure is even louder. We are all scrolling through each other’s highlight reels, comparing our behind the scenes to someone else’s curated moment. And I am not above it. I have posted the perfect photo with the inspirational “God did it again” caption when I am feeling great and then gone completely quiet when life feels heavy. I am guilty of loving being the strong friend while hating to admit that sometimes I am the friend who needs support.
We are all caught in a system that teaches us perfection or nothing at all. But what I know for sure now is this: Perfection is a lie and vulnerability is the new strength.
When I first stepped into leadership, trying to be the perfect CEO, I found Brené Brown’s book, “Daring Greatly” and immediately grabbed onto the idea that vulnerability is strength. I wanted to create a community at SWEAT where people felt safe enough to be real. Staff, members, partners, everyone. “Welcome Home” became our motto for a reason. Our mission is to create a world where everyone feels confident in their skin.
But in my effort to build that world for others, I forgot to build it for myself.
Since launching SWEAT as a pop up fundraiser in 2015, opening our first brick and mortar in 2017, surviving COVID, reemerging and scaling, and now preparing to open our fifth location in Shaw in February 2026, life has been full. Along the way, I went from having a tight trainer six pack to gaining nearly 50 pounds as a stressed out entrepreneur. I lost my father. I underwent hip replacement surgery. I left a relationship that looked fine on paper but was not right. I took on extra jobs to keep the business alive. I battled alcoholism. I faced depression and loneliness. There are more stories than I can fit in one piece.
But the hardest battle was the one in my head. I judged myself for not having the body I once had. I asked myself how I could lead a fitness company if I was not in perfect shape. I asked myself how I could be a gay man in this city and not look the way I used to.
Then came the healing.
A fraternity brother said to me on the phone, “G, you have to forgive yourself.” It stopped me in my tracks. I had never considered forgiving myself. I only knew how to push harder, chase more, and hide the cracks. When we hung up, I cried. That moment opened something in me. I realized I had not neglected my body. I had held my life and my business together the best way I knew how through unimaginable seasons.
I stopped shaming myself for not looking like my past. I started honoring the new ways I had proven I was strong.
So here is what I want to offer anyone who is in that dark space now. Give yourself the same grace you give everyone else. Love yourself through every phase, not just the shiny ones. Recognize growth even when growth simply means you are still here.
When I created SWEAT, I hoped to build a home where people felt worthy just as they are, mostly because I needed that home too. My mission now is to carry that message beyond our walls and into the city I love. To build a STRONGER DC.
Because strength is not perfection. Strength is learning to love an imperfect you.
With love and gratitude, Coach G.
Gerard Burley, also known as Coach G, is a D.C.-based fitness entrepreneur.
Commentary
Elusive safety: what new global data reveals about gender, violence, and erasure
Movements against gender equality, lack of human rights data contributing factors.
“My identity could be revealed, people can say whatever they want [online] without consequences. [Hormone replacement therapy] is illegal here so I’m just waiting to find a way to get out of here.”
-Anonymous respondent to the 2024 F&M Global Barometers LGBTQI+ Perception Index from Iraq, self-identified as a transgender woman and lesbian
As the campaign for 16 Days Against Gender-Based Violence begins, it is a reminder that gender-based violence (GBV) — both on– and offline — not only impacts women and girls but everyone who has been harmed or abused because of their gender or perceived gender. New research from the Franklin & Marshall (F&M) Global Barometers and its report A Growing Backlash: Quantifying the Experiences of LGBTQI+ People, 2022-2024 starkly show trends of declining safety among LGBTQI+ persons around the world.
This erosion of safety is accelerated by movements against gender equality and the disappearance of credible human rights data and reporting. The fight against GBV means understanding all people’s lived realities, including those of LGBTQI+ people, alongside the rights we continue to fight for.
We partnered together while at USAID and Franklin & Marshall College to expand the research and evidence base to better understand GBV against LGBTQI+ persons through the F&M Global Barometers. The collection of barometers tracks the legal rights and lived experiences of LGBTQI+ persons from 204 countries and territories from 2011 to the present. With more than a decade of data, it allows us to see how rights have progressed and receded as well as the gaps between legal protections and lived experiences of discrimination and violence.
This year’s data reveals alarming trends that highlight how fear and violence are, at its root, gendered phenomena that affect anyone who transgresses traditional gender norms.
LGBTQI+ people feel less safe
Nearly two-thirds of countries experienced a decline in their score on the F&M Global Barometers LGBTQI+ Perception Index (GBPI) from 2022-2024. This represents a five percent drop in global safety scores in just two years. With almost 70 percent of countries receiving an “F” grade on the GBPI, this suggests a global crisis in actual human rights protections for LGBTQI+ people.
Backsliding on LGBTQI+ human rights is happening everywhere, even in politically stable, established democracies with human rights protections for LGBTQI+ people. Countries in Western Europe and the Americas experienced the greatest negative GBPI score changes globally, 74 and 67 percent, respectively. Transgender people globally reported the highest likelihood of violence, while trans women and intersex people reported the highest levels of feeling very unsafe or unsafe simply because of who they are.
Taboo of gender equality
Before this current administration dismantled USAID, I helped create an LGBTQI+ inclusive whole-of-government strategy to prevent and respond to GBV that highlighted the unique forms of GBV against LGBTQI+ persons. This included so-called ‘corrective’ rape related to actual or perceived sexual orientation, gender identity, or expression” and so-called ‘conversion’ therapy practices that seek to change or suppress a person’s gender identity or expression, sexual orientation, or sex characteristics. These efforts helped connect the dots in understanding that LGBTQI+ violence is rooted in the same systems of inequality and power imbalances as the broader spectrum of GBV against women and girls.
Losing data and accountability
Data that helps better understand GBV against LGBTQI+ persons is also disappearing. Again, the dismantling of USAID meant a treasure trove of research and reports on LGBTQI+ rights have been lost. Earlier this year, the US Department of State removed LGBTQI+ reporting from its annual Human Rights Reports. These played a critical role in providing credible sources for civil society, researchers, and policymakers to track abuses and advocate for change.
If violence isn’t documented, it’s easier for governments to deny it even exists and harder for us to hold governments accountable. Yet when systems of accountability work, governments and civil society can utilize data in international forums like the UN Universal Periodic Review, the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, and the Sustainable Development Goals to assess progress and compliance and call for governments to improve protections.
All may not be lost if other countries and donors fill the void by supporting independent data collection and reporting efforts like the F&M Global Barometers and other academic and civil society monitoring. Such efforts are essential to the fight against GBV: The data helps show that the path toward safety, equality, and justice is within our reach if we’re unafraid of truth and visibility of those most marginalized and impacted.
Jay Gilliam (he/him/his) was the Senior LGBTQI+ Coordinator at USAID and is a member of the Global Outreach Advisory Council of the F&M Global Barometers.
Susan Dicklitch-Nelson (she/her/hers) is the founder of the F&M Global Barometers and Professor of Government at Franklin & Marshall College.
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