National
Queer Americans from N.M. to Philly on coping with Trump 2.0
Activists, immigration rights attorneys on the tough road ahead

I tried not to look at the clock this morning as I prepared to write. However, curiosity got me: Trump had been president for exactly nine minutes. Although his presence loomed so large in the vacuum of the four years between terms 45 and 47 that it doesn’t seem as if he ever really left.
The question now is how we, as members of the LGBTQ community, will cope with the next four years. I live in the Four Corners area of New Mexico. The county of San Juan is rural and very red. My extended in-laws are mostly Trump supporters but, mercifully, the mutual gag order against discussing politics over Christmas was kept in place.
At one such family party a woman asked if my partner and I knew her son Eric Domiguez. Had we still been in my native Philadelphia we probably would not have known this particular Eric based on sheer population. So at first it was a case of, “You’re the only gay men in the room. Do you know my gay son?”
However, I did know him via Facebook and learned he’s related to my fiancé by marriage. Dominguez runs Alphabet Mafia Presents, a social group creating safe spaces for the queer community. He is also responsible for a queer-centric recovery group, Recovery Queers. Soon after the election the group addressed concerns.
“Alphabet Mafia Presents, Recovery Queers and Sasha’s Rainbow of Hope collaborated to set up a queer town hall in November to address community concerns about local impacts of a second Trump presidency,” Dominguez shared. “It was open to the entire community and had the police LGBT liaison from Farmington police department on hand to answer questions. The event was put together in response to an incident that happened at a local barbershop where a queer individual overheard a conversation between two Trump supporters making comments about how they can’t wait for Trump to get rid of all the queer people in his second term. That conversation brought up a lot of fear for what could happen in our small conservative community.”
Dominguez encountered people on social media in fear of what could happen, talking about leaving the country to find a safe space to exist, struggling with mental health issues, parents afraid for their trans children, and other topics. Interestingly, despite the small population of Farmington, N.M., they have had an LGBTQ police liaison since the aftermath of the Pulse nightclub massacre.
“And coming soon,” Dominguez shared, “we’ll have The Gay Agenda Four Corners. A website, social media pages and weekly newsletter to promote all queer events and resources happening throughout the Four Corners.”
As we have seen in our earlier history, from Stonewall to Anita Bryant, from ACT UP to marriage equality, LGBTQ people rally to take care of each other. Dominguez is concerned, as we all are, about Project 2025. But he takes solace in the people, groups, and events he works with locally.
“I’m an openly gay man that hosts queer events in rural communities. And conservative friends praise me and have told me they think God sent me here to bring our community together through the work I do. So yeah I am scared of what could happen. But my experience here in our small conservative town has shown me that we can come together in spite of our differences. I know this isn’t the same for all small towns,” he cautions. “But we have groups like Equality New Mexico that have been working to make New Mexico a sanctuary state for queer and trans people. Laws passed over the last few years have made New Mexico one of the safest states for queer people to exist. I have seen first hand how existing as a queer person in small rural communities has influenced change. I can focus on fear. Or step outside my comfort zone, interact with people with different beliefs and grow together as a community. Either way the only way I’ll make it through the next four years is finding support in the community.”
Tim Rudy, a stay-at-home dad, and Brian Rudy, an events planner, are a married couple with two recently adopted sons living in Brian’s native Texas. Being in a very red state, do they fear for the future as a same-sex couple with two young children?
“I can’t say we have experienced any challenges as a same-sex couple or a same-sex parent unit, at least not outwardly. People in this state are typically friendly and offer hospitality, even if they do talk about you behind your back in that charming southern way. Because of the areas we have chosen to live and work and the friends we choose to surround ourselves with, I feel like we are pretty well insulated from some of the ugliness one can experience in a deep red state,” Tim shared. “That being said – though it hasn’t touched me I know friends who have experienced assaults and various targeted attacks even on the streets of vehemently liberal Austin.”
As for being gay parents, the Rudys say the boys have not experienced negativity at school.
“They have fantastic support systems at school and Brian was a teacher for years so we are able to maneuver them into the most ideal learning environments. However, when our youngest was in daycare, Tim went to pick him up one day and a little girl ran up to him and started loudly asking why he had two dads. The easiest response to that is always that every family is going to look different. But this four-year-old was quite opinionated about the situation. Probably as a result of belief systems at home.”
Brian is the son of an Iranian refugee. He does not, however, feel threatened by Trump’s immigration crackdown.
“We are close with a number of people who this may directly affect in the local Persian community. Many Persians who fled Iran during the Iranian Revolution were forced to leave without their birth certificates and other identifying documentation (regardless of status or wealth) and that can present a major problem for them for obvious reasons,” Brian stated.
“Xenophobia isn’t a problem for us,” Tim added. “Brian’s maternal family has been in Texas for generations.”
While my fiancé’s family kept the gag order in place at holiday parties, the Rudys were not so lucky at a recent gathering.
“One issue that is unavoidable in this area is conservative friends and family,” Brian shared. “We were recently at a family party where an intoxicated family friend was shouting angrily about the democratic presidential candidate’s campaign, and when Tim engaged in order to discuss facts versus right-wing propaganda, the guest began berating Tim in front of the entire family and our children, which was unacceptable. Sadly, the host of the party, a close family member, chose not to apologize and instead explain that she ‘loves this country because we can all have our own beliefs.’”
Speaking of immigration issues, a talking point of both Trump and the shadowy figures behind Project 2025, I spoke to Joseph Best of Best & Associates, an immigration law group based in Philadelphia. Best has been practicing law since 2008. He says he became enamored with immigration law during an immigration clinic at Villanova University. As an immigration attorney he is eligible to practice in any state as immigration is a federal matter. He need only hold a license in one state to practice in any jurisdiction. And he does: His social media shows him in New York one day, or Maine, or Pennsylvania the next fighting for immigrants. Best has fought for several LGBTQ people to gain citizenship.
“LGBT people generally have very viable asylum cases and often we get good results because so many countries are openly persecuting their LGBTQ+ citizens, often proudly so,” he said. “Asylum law in the U.S. has positively evolved over the past several decades to broadly support protections for LGBT people. Although, because our system is so broken and arbitrary, there are still some very bad immigration judges who refuse to follow the law and struggle to find a legal or factual basis as an excuse to not grant protection to our clients.”
As for Project 2025, Best says it is “nothing new … save for its own explicit announcement of their intentions to destroy America as a pluralistic representative, secular democracy. Of course, the biggest impact that their anti-LGBT agenda would have on immigration would be to restrict the application of asylum law for people fleeing anti-LGBT violence and harm and the efforts to undo legal progress in the states and federally around marriage equality and privacy rights more broadly. But thankfully all of that is complicated to actually implement and cannot happen overnight allowing for political opposition to get organized in response. Transgender people are today the easiest targets in our community to pick on. But it is an old playbook that anyone old enough who survived AIDS and our struggle for LGBT rights in the 80s and 90s will recognize immediately.”
Tyrell Brown is executive director at Galaei QTBIPOC Social Justice and Founder and Program Director at Philly Pride 365. According to their website, “Serving the Latinx community while widening our embrace, GALAEI now provides services, support and advocacy for all Queer, Trans, Indigenous and People of Color (QTBIPOC) communities.” The community they serve is historically more vulnerable due to socio-economic issues and other divides in Philadelphia.
Brown has been active in Philly’s queer community for a long time. The Galaei organization is more than an office. It’s a vibrant community center nestled on a small street in the Fishtown section of the city. An area largely economically destroyed by the closing of manufacturing and fisheries – hence Fishtown – and one now increasingly vulnerable to recent gentrification displacing long-time residents.
“As the executive director here,” Brown explained, “I have forecasted the potential of this for a year, while also driving home to the staff and those I encounter in the community that times will be difficult, and that we may not be able to anticipate every action, challenge, by the coming administration…but ensuring them that we are a resilient people and that we will navigate these challenging times.”
They look forward to working with the community they serve and their organization’s programs will be focused on “legacy.” Galaei is ready to meet the needs of the community. Much like the queer town hall in Farmington, Brown has already fielded calls from the community, and had staff express their concerns about coping.
“We are working with a collective that offers group healing explicitly for our staff as part of our regular care routine bi-weekly, this will include meditation and group discussion related to our self-care.” Brown closed his discussion with me beautifully.
“Understand that you are more powerful than you know and that the person that you are, who you know today, is not necessarily the person that you can be. Butterflies can’t see their own wings but they still know how to fly. The challenges that are sure to come tomorrow may not be what we anticipate, they may startle you, but know that we are prepared.”
I am very fortunate to know all of these charismatic people on a personal level. I dreaded writing this piece. Putting this article into words meant that we are no longer awaiting Trump’s return. We are now living in the second administration of a leader most LGBTQ people fear. However, we are overwhelmingly hopeful that we can and will overcome.
U.S. Supreme Court
Activists rally for Andry Hernández Romero in front of Supreme Court
Gay asylum seeker ‘forcibly deported’ to El Salvador, described as political prisoner

More than 200 people gathered in front of the U.S. Supreme Court on Friday and demanded the Trump-Vance administration return to the U.S. a gay Venezuelan asylum seeker who it “forcibly disappeared” to El Salvador.
Lindsay Toczylowski, president of the Immigrant Defenders Law Center, a Los Angeles-based organization that represents Andry Hernández Romero, is among those who spoke alongside U.S. Rep. Mark Takano (D-Calif.) and Human Rights Campaign Campaigns and Communications Vice President Jonathan Lovitz. Sarah Longwell of the Bulwark, Pod Save America’s Jon Lovett, and Tim Miller are among those who also participated in the rally.
“Andry is a son, a brother. He’s an actor, a makeup artist,” said Toczylowski. “He is a gay man who fled Venezuela because it was not safe for him to live there as his authentic self.”
(Video by Michael K. Lavers)
The White House on Feb. 20 designated Tren de Aragua, a Venezuelan gang, as an “international terrorist organization.”
President Donald Trump on March 15 invoked the Alien Enemies Act of 1798, which the Associated Press notes allows the U.S. to deport “noncitizens without any legal recourse.” The Trump-Vance administration subsequently “forcibly removed” Hernández and hundreds of other Venezuelans to El Salvador.
Toczylowski said she believes Hernández remains at El Salvador’s Terrorism Confinement Center, a maximum-security prison known by the Spanish acronym CECOT. Toczylowski also disputed claims that Hernández is a Tren de Aragua member.
“Andry fled persecution in Venezuela and came to the U.S. to seek protection. He has no criminal history. He is not a member of the Tren de Aragua gang. Yet because of his crown tattoos, we believe at this moment that he sits in a torture prison, a gulag, in El Salvador,” said Toczylowski. “I say we believe because we have not had any proof of life for him since the day he was put on a U.S. government-funded plane and forcibly disappeared to El Salvador.”
“Andry is not alone,” she added.
Takano noted the federal government sent his parents, grandparents, and other Japanese Americans to internment camps during World War II under the Alien Enemies Act. The gay California Democrat also described Hernández as “a political prisoner, denied basic rights under a law that should have stayed in the past.”
“He is not a case number,” said Takano. “He is a person.”
Hernández had been pursuing his asylum case while at the Otay Mesa Detention Center in San Diego.
A hearing had been scheduled to take place on May 30, but an immigration judge the day before dismissed his case. Immigrant Defenders Law Center has said it will appeal the decision to the Board of Immigration Appeals, which the Justice Department oversees.
“We will not stop fighting for Andry, and I know neither will you,” said Toczylowski.
Friday’s rally took place hours after Attorney General Pam Bondi said Kilmar Abrego Garcia, a Maryland man who the Trump-Vance administration wrongfully deported to El Salvador, had returned to the U.S. Abrego will face federal human trafficking charges in Tennessee.
National
A husband’s story: Michael Carroll reflects on life with Edmund White
Iconic author died this week; ‘no sunnier human in the world’

Unlike most gay men of my generation, I’ve only been to Fire Island twice. Even so, the memory of my first visit has never left me. The scenery was lovely, and the boys were sublime — but what stood out wasn’t the beach or the parties. It was a quiet afternoon spent sipping gin and tonics in a mid-century modern cottage tucked away from the sand and sun.
Despite Fire Island’s reputation for hedonism, our meeting was more accident than escapade. Michael Carroll — a Facebook friend I’d chatted with but never met — mentioned that he and his husband, Ed, would be there that weekend, too. We agreed to meet for a drink. On a whim, I checked his profile and froze. Ed was author Edmund White.
I packed a signed copy of Carroll’s “Little Reef” and a dog-eared hardback of “A Boy’s Own Story,” its spine nearly broken from rereads. I was excited to meet both men and talk about writing, even briefly.
Yesterday, I woke to the news that Ed had passed away. Ironically, my first thought was of Michael.
This week, tributes to Edmund White are everywhere — rightly celebrating his towering legacy as a novelist, essayist, and cultural icon. I’ve read all of his books, and I could never do justice to the scope of a career that defined and chronicled queer life for more than half a century. I’ll leave that to better-prepared journalists.
But in those many memorials, I’ve noticed something missing. When Michael Carroll is mentioned, it’s usually just a passing reference: “White’s partner of thirty years, twenty-five years his junior.” And yet, in the brief time I spent with this couple on Fire Island, it was clear to me that Michael was more than a footnote — he was Ed’s anchor, editor, companion, and champion. He was the one who knew his husband best.
They met in 1995 after Michael wrote Ed a fan letter to tell him he was coming to Paris. “He’d lost the great love of his life a year before,” Michael told me. “In one way, I filled a space. Understand, I worshiped this man and still do.”
When I asked whether there was a version of Ed only he knew, Michael answered without hesitation: “No sunnier human in the world, obvious to us and to people who’ve only just or never met him. No dark side. Psychology had helped erase that, I think, or buffed it smooth.”
Despite the age difference and divergent career arcs, their relationship was intellectually and emotionally symbiotic. “He made me want to be elegant and brainy; I didn’t quite reach that, so it led me to a slightly pastel minimalism,” Michael said. “He made me question my received ideas. He set me free to have sex with whoever I wanted. He vouchsafed my moods when they didn’t wobble off axis. Ultimately, I encouraged him to write more minimalistically, keep up the emotional complexity, and sleep with anyone he wanted to — partly because I wanted to do that too.”
Fully open, it was a committed relationship that defied conventional categories. Ed once described it as “probably like an 18th-century marriage in France.” Michael elaborated: “It means marriage with strong emotion — or at least a tolerance for one another — but no sex; sex with others. I think.”
That freedom, though, was always anchored in deep devotion and care — and a mutual understanding that went far beyond art, philosophy, or sex. “He believed in freedom and desire,” Michael said, “and the two’s relationship.”
When I asked what all the essays and articles hadn’t yet captured, Michael paused. “Maybe that his writing was tightly knotted, but that his true personality was vulnerable, and that he had the defense mechanisms of cheer and optimism to conceal that vulnerability. But it was in his eyes.”
The moment that captured who Ed was to him came at the end. “When he was dying, his second-to-last sentence (garbled then repeated) was, ‘Don’t forget to pay Merci,’ the cleaning lady coming the next day. We had had a rough day, and I was popping off like a coach or dad about getting angry at his weakness and pushing through it. He took it almost like a pack mule.”
Edmund White’s work shaped generations — it gave us language for desire, shame, wit, and liberation. But what lingers just as powerfully is the extraordinary life Ed lived with a man who saw him not only as a literary giant but as a real person: sunny, complex, vulnerable, generous.
In the end, Ed’s final words to his husband weren’t about his books or his legacy. They were about care, decency, and love. “You’re good,” he told Michael—a benediction, a farewell, maybe even a thank-you.
And now, as the world celebrates the prolific writer and cultural icon Edmund White, it feels just as important to remember the man and the person who knew him best. Not just the story but the characters who stayed to see it through to the end.
District of Columbia
In town for WorldPride? Take a D.C. LGBTQ walking tour
Scenes of protest, celebration, and mourning

As Washington welcomes the world for WorldPride, it’s essential to honor the city’s deep-rooted LGBTQ history—an integral part of the broader story of the nation’s capital. The following locations have served as cornerstones of queer life and activism in D.C., shaping both local and national movements for LGBTQ rights. So take a walk around “the gayest city in America” and check out these sites.
DUPONT CIRCLE AREA
Dupont Circle
Central hub of LGBTQ life since the early 20th century, hosting Pride parades, Dyke Marches, and cruising culture. A long-standing site of protests and celebrations.
Washington Hilton – 1919 Connecticut Ave NW
Hosted D.C.’s first major hotel drag event in 1968 and the iconic Miss Adams Morgan Pageant. Protested in 1978 during Anita Bryant’s appearance.
Lesbian Avengers – 1426 21st St NW
Formed in 1992, the group empowered lesbians through bold direct actions. They met in Dupont Circle and launched the city’s first Dyke March.
Lambda Rising Bookstore (former) – 1724 20th Street NW
D.C.’s first LGBTQ bookstore and the birthplace of the city’s inaugural Pride celebration in 1975.
Women In The Life (former office) – 1623 Connecticut Ave NW
Founded in 1993 by Sheila Alexander-Reid as a safe space and support network for lesbians of color.
17th Street NW Corridor – Between P & R Streets NW
Core of the LGBTQ business district, home to the annual High Heel Race in October and the June Block Party celebrating the origins of D.C. Pride.
CAPITOL HILL / SOUTHEAST
Tracks (former) – 80 M St SE
Once D.C.’s largest gay club, famous for inclusive parties, RuPaul shows, and foam nights from 1984 to 2000.
Ziegfeld’s / The Other Side – 1345 Half Street SE
Legendary drag venue since 1978, hosting famed performers like Ella Fitzgerald.
Club 55 / Waaay Off Broadway – 55 K Street SE
Converted theater central to D.C.’s early drag and Academy pageant scenes.
Congressional Cemetery – 1801 E Street SE
Resting place of LGBTQ figures like Sgt. Leonard Matlovich and Peter Doyle. Offers queer history tours.
Mr. Henry’s – 601 Pennsylvania Ave SE
LGBTQ-friendly bar since 1966 and the launching stage for Roberta Flack’s career.
The Furies Collective House – 219 11th Street SE
Home to a 1970s lesbian feminist collective that published “The Furies.” Members included Rita Mae Brown.
ARCHIVES / PENN QUARTER
Archives Metro & Center Market Site – 7th St & Pennsylvania Ave NW
Where Walt Whitman met Peter Doyle in 1865, commemorated by a sculpture linking Whitman and poet Fernando Pessoa.
COLUMBIA HEIGHTS / PETWORTH
Palm Ballroom (former) – 4211 9th Street NW
Mid-20th century venue for Black drag balls and LGBTQ events during segregation.
NATIONAL MALL AREA
National Mall / Washington Monument Grounds
Historic site of LGBTQ activism and remembrance, including the 1987 display of the AIDS Memorial Quilt and a mass same-sex wedding. Hosted major civil rights marches in 1979, 1987, and 1993.
NORTHWEST DC
Dr. Franklin E. Kameny House – 5020 Cathedral Ave NW
Home of gay rights pioneer Frank Kameny and the Mattachine Society of Washington; now a national landmark.
LAFAYETTE SQUARE / WHITE HOUSE
Lafayette Park – Pennsylvania Ave & 16th St NW
Historic gay cruising area and epicenter of government surveillance during the Lavender Scare.
Data from: SSecret City by James Kirchick, The Deviant’s War by Frank Kameny, Brett Beemyn, The Rainbow History Project, NPS Archives, Washington Blade Archives.