Opinions
Reclaiming ‘woke’ from the right: An LGBTQ perspective
People consumed by prejudice are relentless and never stay in one lane
By KEVIN BERRILL
Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis has stepped up his war on “woke-ism,” most recently with an alarming video post on Twitter bragging about his “most extreme slate of anti-trans laws in modern history.” With the stroke of a pen he has already erased LGBTQ visibility in school classrooms, dismantled diversity programs, and banned the teaching of critical race theory. Who or what is next on the list is anyone’s guess, but we know from history that intolerance is like a raging forest fire that consumes everything in its path.
For the LGBTQ community, this is all part of a familiar and ongoing story of progress and backlash. The same visibility that allowed LGBTQ people to create community, educate, and organize for equality has also made us a target of those who hate and want to harm us. As an organizer at the National Gay & Lesbian Task Force (1982-93), I documented thousands of episodes of anti-gay violence, much of it encouraged by a religious right alarmed by our growing visibility and strength as a movement. Moral Majority leader Jerry Falwell filled his treasury with wildly successful direct mail appeals that declared “war against homosexuality” and that urged his adherents to “stop homosexuals dead in their tracks.”
What I learned about people consumed by fear and prejudice is that they are relentless and never stay in one lane. The scapegoating of one vulnerable group inevitably spreads to another. “Queers” were among those singled out for extermination in a White Patriot Party “Declaration of War” against enemies of the white race. A white supremacist leader who was convicted in the 1983 arson of a Jewish community center in Indiana was also found guilty of torching a gay Christian Church in Missouri that same year. I had stacks of incoming mail from indiscriminate haters emblazoned with swastikas (“WHITE POWER! DEATH TO FAGS!”).
Originally a vernacular term in the African-American community for staying alert and awake in the face of racial discrimination, the adjective “woke” gained broader attention during the Black Lives Matter protests against police brutality and, later, to mean someone who is aware of and cares about social injustice more broadly. Almost overnight the word “woke” was weaponized by the right and became a term of derision. Don’t like hearing uncomfortable truths about our history as an enslaving nation? Well, heck, just call it “woke.” Advanced Placement high school courses in African American studies? Woke. Books exploring gender identity? Woke. Disneyland? Woke. Bud Light? Woke.
Dismissing others as woke is a cynical and lazy—but highly effective—way to trigger fear in the listener, dismiss and dehumanize opponents, and shut down curiosity, inquiry, and compassionate action. Uncomfortable with woke teachers? Accuse them of “grooming” children to be gay or trans, as if that were even possible. In an instant, they are transformed from people to predators.
Anti-woke absolves all its adherents of accountability and responsibility to do anything to right historical wrongs or even respect the “other.”
Jesus declared, “The truth will set you free,” (John 8:32), but for DeSantis and his fellow Republicans, acknowledging the truth of our nation’s past errors and crimes is an outrage. Calls for reckoning and justice are viewed as pure weakness leading to downfall rather than as an opportunity for understanding, correction, and redemption. Too fragile to face facts, they are on a campaign to destroy truth and those who speak it. “Wokeism” is now described as a “virus,” which makes those who “carry” the virus (e.g., progressive activists, feminists, academics, librarians, and even scientists) spreaders of disease.
The progressive left has been criticized, sometimes with justification, for focusing too narrowly on America’s failures to live up to its stated ideals and for unfairly “canceling” those who violate woke norms and values. What critics overlook is that the conservative right is—and always has been—cancel crazy: Canceling “woke” library books and drag shows, opposing and nullifying laws to protect against discrimination, and even canceling democracy itself by limiting voting rights and casting doubt on fair elections. In the final analysis, the anti-woke right is intent on canceling reality—and the history that undergirds it—in its pursuit of a world of fixed identities and strict hierarchies in which dominant groups are in control of the narrative of who we are as a nation and who is entitled to share in its promise.
While attacking “woke” history as a litany of “victimhood” stories, the anti-woke have embraced a narrative in which everyone from Christian conservatives to Elon Musk and the super-wealthy are actually oppressed by “wokeism.” By exaggerating the power of the historically dispossessed, minimizing the harms done to them, and recasting them as scary elites, the anti-woke encourage those with relatively more privilege to view themselves as victims of those with less. Considering that LGBT people are four times more likely to be victims of violent crime than non-LGBT people and that anti-LGBT discrimination is completely legal in much of the U.S., who is victimizing whom? And how better to cancel someone than with violence or to deny them employment, housing, and services? For those who think the Black Lives Matter movement has “gone too far,” consider how many white people you know who fear for their safety when stopped by the police?
DeSantis and the Republicans are betting that their war on “wokeism” (i.e., democracy, truth, inclusivity, and compassion) will divide and ultimately conquer the electorate. Their campaign is already succeeding—driving down public approval ratings for LGBTQ rights and the teaching of critical race theory. Amid the anti-woke backlash in our politics, schools, libraries, and polling places, progressives and those deemed outsiders can withdraw, go to sleep, or stay small by closing ranks in identity tribes, focusing on narrow self-interest. Or we can become more visible and vocal, enlisting the support of active, unequivocal, unapologetic allies across the boundaries of race, sex, gender identity, sexual orientation, religion, class, ability, and ethnicity. Our fates, after all, are intertwined.
Along the way, we can affirm the best of our nation’s history, learn about each other’s struggles and triumphs, and forgive the fact that all of us are uneven in our knowledge and compassion. We must build bridges, stay curious, listen to each other’s stories, and above all, mobilize to win elections, despite the right’s relentless efforts to subvert them. Finally, we must rescue and reclaim the word “woke” from those who distort and disrespect its intent. Recognizing that “woke” is not a fixed destination but an aspiration, let us humbly aspire to live into its deepest and broadest meaning—vigilant, aware of racism and injustice, and passionately committed to wise and just action.
Kevin Berrill, LCSW, was Anti-Violence Project Director of the National Gay & Lesbian Task Force from 1982-1992. He is co
Letter-to-the-Editor
Candidates should pledge to nominate LGBTQ judge to Supreme Court
Presidential, Senate hopefuls need to go on the record
As soon as the final votes are cast and counted and verified after the November 2026 elections are over, the 2028 presidential cycle will begin in earnest. Polls, financial aid requests, and volunteer opportunities ad infinitum will flood the public and personal media. There will be more issues than candidates in both parties. The rending of garments and mudslinging will be both interesting and maybe even amusing as citizens will watch how candidates react to each and every issue of the day.
There is one particular item that I am hoping each candidate will be asked whether in private or in public. If a Supreme Court vacancy occurs in your potential administration, will you nominate an open and qualified LGBTQ to join the remaining eight?
Other interest groups on both sides have made similar demands over the years and have had them honored. Is it not time that our voices are raised as well? There are several already sitting judges on both state and federal benches that have either been elected statewide or approved by the U.S. Senate.
Our communities are being utilized and abused on judicial menus. Enough already! Challenge each and every candidate, regardless of their party with our honest question and see if honest answers are given. By the way … no harm in asking the one-third of the U.S. Senate candidates too who will be on ballots. Looking forward to any candidate tap dancing!
Opinions
2026 elections will bring major changes to D.C. government
Mayor’s office, multiple Council seats up for grabs
Next year will be a banner year for elections in D.C. The mayor announced she will not run. Two Council members, Anita Bonds, At-large, and Brianne Nadeau, Ward 1, have announced they will not run. Waiting for Del. Norton to do the same, but even if she doesn’t, there will be a real race for that office.
So far, Robert White, Council member at-large, and Brooke Pinto, Council member Ward 2, are among a host of others, who have announced. If one of these Council members should win, there would be a special election for their seat. If Kenyon McDuffie, Council member at-large, announces for mayor as a Democrat, which he is expected to do, he will have to resign his seat on the Council as he fills one of the non-Democratic seats there. Janeese George, Ward 4 Council member, announced she is running for mayor. Should she win, there would be a special election for her seat. Another special election could happen if Trayon White, Ward 8, is convicted of his alleged crimes, when he is brought to trial in January. Both the Council chair, and attorney general, have announced they are seeking reelection, along with a host of other offices that will be on the ballot.
Many of the races could look like the one in Ward 1 where at least six people have already announced. They include three members of the LGBTQ community. It seems the current leader in that race is Jackie Reyes Yanes, a Latina activist, not a member of the LGBTQ community, who worked for Mayor Fenty as head of the Latino Affairs Office, and for Mayor Bowser as head of the Office of Community Affairs. About eight, including the two Council members, have already announced they are running for the delegate seat.
I am often asked by candidates for an endorsement. The reason being my years as a community, LGBTQ, and Democratic, activist; and my ability to endorse in my column in the Washington Blade. The only candidate I endorsed so far is Phil Mendelson, for Council chair. While he and I don’t always agree on everything, he’s a staunch supporter of the LGBTQ community, a rational person, and we need someone with a steady hand if there really are six new Council members, out of the 13.
When candidates call, they realize I am a policy wonk. My unsolicited advice to all candidates is: Do more than talk in generalities, be specific and honest as to what you think you can do, if elected. Candidates running for a legislative office, should talk about what bills they will support, and then what new ones they will introduce. What are the first three things you will focus on for your constituents, if elected. If you are running against an incumbent, what do you think you can do differently than the person you hope to replace? For any new policies and programs you propose, if there is a cost, let constituents know how you intend to pay for them. Take the time to learn the city budget, and how money is currently being spent. The more information you have at your fingertips, the smarter you sound, and voters respect that, at least many do. If you are running for mayor, you need to develop a full platform, covering all the issues the city will face, something I have helped a number of previous mayors do. The next mayor will continue to have to deal with the felon in the White House. He/she/they will have to ensure he doesn’t try to eliminate home rule. The next mayor will have to understand how to walk a similar tightrope Mayor Bowser has balanced so effectively.
Currently, the District provides lots of public money to candidates. If you decide to take it, know the details. The city makes it too easy to get. But while it is available, take advantage of it. One new variable in this election is the implementation of rank-choice voting. It will impact how you campaign. If you attack another candidate, you may not be the second, or even third, choice, of their strongest supporters.
Each candidate needs a website. Aside from asking for donations and volunteers, it should have a robust issues section, biography, endorsements, and news. One example I share with candidates is my friend Zach Wahls’s website. He is running for United States Senate from Iowa. It is a comprehensive site, easy to navigate, with concise language, and great pictures. One thing to remember is that D.C. is overwhelmingly Democratic. Chances are the winner of the Democratic primary will win the general election.
Potential candidates should read the DCBOE calendar. Petitions will be available at the Board of Elections on Jan. 23, with the primary on June 16th, and general election on Nov. 3. So, ready, set, go!
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
Opinions
Lighting candles in a time of exhaustion
Gunmen killed 15 people at Sydney Hanukkah celebration
In the wake of the shooting at Bondi Beach that targeted Jews, many of us are sitting with a familiar feeling: exhaustion. Not shock or surprise, but the deep weariness that comes from knowing this violence continues. It is yet another reminder that antisemitism remains persistent.
Bondi Beach is far from Washington, D.C., but antisemitism does not respect geography. When Jews are attacked anywhere, Jews everywhere feel it. We check on family and friends, absorb the headlines, and brace ourselves for the quiet, numbing normalization that has followed acts of mass violence.
Many of us live at an intersection where threats can come from multiple directions. As a community, we have embraced the concept of intersectional identity, and yet in queer spaces, many LGBTQ+ Jews are being implicitly or explicitly asked to play down our Jewishness. Jews hesitate before wearing a Magen David or a kippah. Some of us have learned to compartmentalize our identities, deciding which part of ourselves feels safest to lead with. Are we welcome as queer people only if we mute our Jewishness? Are those around us able to acknowledge that our fear is not abstract, but rooted in a lived reality, one in which our friends and family are directly affected by the rise in antisemitic violence, globally and here at home?
As a result of these experiences, many LGBTQ+ Jews feel a growing fatigue. We are told, implicitly or explicitly, that our fear is inconvenient; that Jewish trauma must be contextualized, minimized, or deferred in favor of other injustices. Certainly, the world is full of horror. And yet, we long for a world in which all lives are cherished and safe, where solidarity is not conditional on political purity or on which parts of ourselves are deemed acceptable to love.
We are now in the season of Chanuka. The story of this holiday is not one of darkness vanishing overnight. It is the story of a fragile light that should not have lasted. Chanuka teaches us that hope does not require certainty; it requires persistence and the courage to kindle a flame even when the darkness feels overwhelming.
For LGBTQ+ Jews, this lesson resonates deeply. We have survived by refusing to disappear across multiple dimensions of our identities. We have built communities, created rituals, and embraced chosen families that affirm the fullness of who we are.
To our LGBTQ+ siblings who are not Jewish: this is a moment to listen, to stand with us, and to make space for our grief. Solidarity means showing up not only when it is easy or popular, but especially when it is uncomfortable.
To our fellow Jews: your exhaustion is valid. Your fear is understandable, and so is your hope. Every candle lit this Chanuka is an act of resilience. Every refusal to hide, every moment of joy, is a declaration that hatred will not have the final word.
Light does not deny darkness. It confronts it.
As we light our candles this Chanuka season, may we protect one another and bring light to one another, even as the world too often responds to difference with violence and hate.
Joshua Maxey is the executive director of Bet Mishpachah, D.C.’s LGBTQ synagogue.
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