Commentary
Defunding equality: How the US betrayed LGBTQ communities worldwide
American aid freeze will cost lives

Just two weeks ago, the director of a Ugandan LGBT+ crisis center watched helplessly as their last reserves ran out following the U.S. aid freeze. With no emergency funding in sight, they were forced to turn away desperate individuals seeking shelter from life-threatening violence. In Peru, a trans womenās shelter that provided food, medical care, and legal support shut its doors overnight, leaving residents with nowhere to go. In CĆ“te dāIvoire, a life-saving HIV prevention program collapsed, putting thousands at immediate risk. These are just a handful of the stories we heard in All Out’s global partner survey, a rapid assessment of the damage being done by the Trump regime’s reckless and cruel decision to freeze all U.S. foreign aid.
The U.S. action stems from Trumpās Executive Order 14169, titled Reevaluating and Realigning United States Foreign Aid, which mandates a 90-day pause on all U.S. foreign development assistance programs. The order claims that the U.S. foreign aid system is “not aligned with American interests and in many cases antithetical to American values.” But what values does the United States government truly believe in when a policy decision leaves thousands of marginalized people without shelter, healthcare, or even a chance at survival? The aid freeze has not safeguarded American interests ā it has simply endangered the lives of some of the worldās most vulnerable communities.
For years, the U.S. has played a critical role in supporting LGBT+ organizations worldwide, bridging the financial and political void left by foreign governments that fail to safeguard the rights of their LGBT+ citizens. But in one stroke of a pen, that support has disappeared. The results have been catastrophic.
According to the Global Philanthropy Project, the total amount of LGBT+ aid likely to be cut by the U.S. and the Netherlands alone is estimated at $105 million ā one in every four dollars of government funding for LGBT+ causes worldwide. The impact is immediate and devastating: our partner survey reveals that 75 percent are reporting increased risks to life, health, or safety of community members as a direct result of the aid freeze. More than two-thirds have already had to shut down programs or lay off staff. Nearly a third are on the brink of closure.
The consequences are particularly dire in places where LGBT+ people already face criminalization, violence, and social exclusion. Shelters for LGBT+ refugees and survivors of homophobic and transphobic violence have been shuttered across multiple countries. One of our Ukrainian partners shared, “Many LGBT+ individuals are now without a safe place to go, and we are seeing an increase in homelessness and violence.” In Sudan, activists who provided emergency aid to LGBT+ people fleeing war and persecution are now unable to help. In Colombia, a program offering economic inclusion programs for trans migrant women has had to close, forcing many into dangerous and exploitative conditions just to meet their basic needs.
The Trump regime justified the aid freeze as a 90-day review of spending priorities. But for LGBT+ people on the frontlines, 90 days without funding can be a death sentence. And while Trump’s spokespeople have tried to dismiss the freeze as temporary, organizations have already begun receiving termination notices. The intent is clear: This is part of a broader rollback of human rights commitments. And the vacuum left by U.S. disengagement is already being filled by authoritarian regimes that weaponize homophobia and transphobia for political gain.
But while the U.S. government is abandoning its commitments, the rest of the world cannot afford to do the same. Governments that claim to champion LGBT+ rights must now step up at pace to fill the funding gap. Private donors, including corporations that have long benefited from rainbow capitalism, must also act.
For years, LGBT+ activists have built movements on shoestring budgets, navigating impossible conditions with resilience and determination. But resilience is not a funding model and our communities deserve better. If we do nothing, decades of progress could unravel in months. And make no mistake: More lives will be lost.
Governments, philanthropists, and the broader international community must act now. This is not just a political decision ā it is a moral one. The brave partners we spoke to in our survey are running out of options. The question is whether the world will stand with them ā or turn away as they are left to suffer and die.
Matthew Beard is the executive director of All Out, a global LGBT+ non-profit that works towards a world in which nobody has to sacrifice their family, freedom, safety or dignity because of who they are or who they love. Before joining All Out in 2016, Matthew was the Global Director of Fundraising and Communications at Action Aid, an international non-profit focussing on womenās rights and anti-poverty. For 10 years, Matthew also served in various senior communications and fundraising roles in the UK, Germany, Australia, and Canada for Amnesty International.
Commentary
I am a proud Jewish, gay man
My heart breaks for the two Israeli diplomats killed on the streets of D.C.

Antisemitism, racism, and Islamophobia, are terrible things to have to deal with, and we must all always speak out and reject them. But the reality is, as a proud, Jewish, gay man, living in Washington, D.C. today, I am more afraid of Donald āfelonā Trump, his Nazi sympathizing co-president Elon Musk, his own Joseph Goebbels, Stephen Miller; and his Cabinet flunkies like Homeland Securityās Kristi Noem and State Departmentās Marco Rubio, than I am of any legal college demonstration. Mind you, I say legal.
We live in a world where Trump has made all kinds of outrageous behavior acceptable. He has dined with white nationalists, said there are fine people on both sides in his first comments when the Charlottesville riots occurred. Today, Trump sits with terrorists in Qatar, accepting a plane as a bribe, and negotiates with terrorists like Hamas. This is the world Donald Trump has created. That is what I fear the most. It is a world where Donald Trump has made it acceptable for racists, homophobes, sexists, antisemites, and Islamophobes to spout their hate in the public square.
This past year I published my memoir, and wrote about being a first generation American. My parents came here to escape the Nazis ā my father from Germany, and my mother from Austria. My father joined the American Army and went back to fight the Germans. His parents were gassed in Auschwitz. I understood from them and their friends, what antisemitism was. But I grew up in a Jewish community in New York City, and as I wrote in my book, never felt any of it myself until I was 13 on a trip through the Midwest and was called a āKikeā and had to ask someone what that meant.
As to being gay, I knew I was, even though I didnāt understand it, when I was 12. I could, and did hide that, until I was 34. I then came out in D.C., which turned out to be an easy place to come out. But it was near the beginning of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, and that made you very careful. You were told not to have your insurance company pay for a blood test, so God forbid, people would think you were gay, or worse if you did test positive. There was rampant discrimination and fear regarding HIV/AIDS at the time. I know I lost at least two jobs because I was gay, yet luckily, neither of those impacted my career in the long run. I became a gay activist, fought for my community, and things got better. I had worked for Rep. Bella Abzug (D-N.Y.), sponsor of the first Equality Act, before I came out, and met many gay people who were very supportive and became lifelong friends.
Today, Donald Trump, literally through his actions, threatens the lives of trans persons. While we are celebrating WorldPride in D.C., which as a city is a very welcoming place for the LGBTQ community, countries around the globe have told their citizens to be on alert if they come here. The United States is on their watch list for unsafe travel because of Trumpās actions.
When Donald Trump was elected the first time, his racism, homophobia, sexism, and Islamophobia immediately came to the fore. It had a negative impact on the culture in our country. It actually changed the culture, and that, and he, have only gotten worse over time. Today, Trump and his MAGA minions, are truly frightening. Again, trans people are afraid and antisemitism and Islamophobia are rampant in our nation.
Trump tries to blame it on some foreign students, but reality is, it is his doing. He and his MAGA cult. They are the ones I fear, not a graduate student at Columbia who supports Palestinians. It is the Netanyahu government in Israel that is making things worse. Yes, Hamas must be defeated as they promote genocide against the Jewish people in Israel. But the Israeli government starving millions of Palestinian people in Gaza, who are not Hamas, is not helping anyone. It simply creates more antisemitism. Trump going back and forth on his support of Netanyahu, and then saying he wants to displace every Palestinian from their home in Gaza to build a resort, creates more antisemitism. Trump is the guilty one, not the Columbia student who speaks out for his Palestinian family.
Where this will end, I do not know. But my heart breaks for the two innocent Israeli diplomats recently killed on the streets of D.C. by a terrorist who basically was given permission to act out by what Trump is doing in the world. What he did was vile, and he should end up in jail for the rest of his life. Everyone needs to speak out every day, and say antisemitism is unacceptable, and must be stopped. I never want to see Germany in 1939 replicated here. But that is what Trump and his MAGA cult are doing. They threaten everyone who they disagree with, and seek vengeance for suspected slights. They are literally trying to destroy our democracy. By what they are doing they give the terrorist who ended the lives of that beautiful young Jewish couple in D.C., implicit permission to act. Because if a president can act like a criminal, why canāt he?
Commentary
āA New Alliance for a New Millenium, 2003-2020ā
Revisiting the history of gay Pride in Washington

In conjunction with WorldPride 2025, the Rainbow History Project is creating an exhibit on the evolution of Pride: āPickets, Protests, and Parades: The History of Gay Pride in Washington.ā It will be on Freedom Plaza from May 17-July 7. This is the ninth in a series of 10 articles that share the research themes and invite public participation. In āA New Alliance for a New Milleniumā we discuss how Whitman-Walkerās stewardship of Pride led to the creation of the Capital Pride Alliance and how the 1960s demands of the Mattachine Society of Washington were seen as major victories under the Obama administration.
This section of the exhibit explores how the Whitman-Walker Clinic, a cornerstone of the community since the 1970s, stepped up to rescue Pride from a serious financial crisis. The Clinic not only stabilized Pride but also helped it expand, guiding the festival through its 30th anniversary and cementing its role as a unifying force for the cityās LGBTQ population. As Whitman-Walker shifted its focus to primary healthcare, rebranding as Whitman-Walker Health, a new era began with the formation of the Capital Pride Alliance (CPA). Born from the volunteers and community partners who had kept Pride going, CPA took the reins and transformed Capital Pride into one of the largest free LGBTQ festivals in the country. Under CPAās stewardship, the festival grew to attract hundreds of thousands, with multi-day celebrations, headline performers, and a vibrant parade.
This period saw Pride become a true cross-section of the community, as former Capital Pride Alliance executive director Dyana Mason recalled: āIt was wonderfully diverse and had a true cross section of our community⦠Everybody was there and just being themselves.ā The festivalās expansion created space for more people to find a sense of belonging and affirmation. This growth was made possible through the support of sponsors, volunteers, and a city eager to celebrate-but it also sparked ongoing debates about the role of corporate funding and the meaning of Pride in a changing world.
National politics are woven throughout this era. In a powerful moment of recognition, Frank Kameny ā the architect of D.C.ās first White House picket for gay rights and a founder of the Mattachine Society ā was invited to the White House in 2009. There, President Obama and the U.S. government formally apologized for Kamenyās firing from federal service in 1957, a symbolic act that echoed the earliest demands of DCās own Mattachine Society, the cityās first gay civil rights organization founded in 1961. The 2009 National Equality March revived the spirit of earlier mass mobilizations, linking LGBTQ rights to broader movements for social justice. The 2010s brought landmark victories: āDonāt Ask, Donāt Tellā was repealed, marriage equality became law. These wins suggested decades of protest had borne fruit, yet new generations continued to debate the meaning of true liberation and inclusion.
Our exhibit examines how the political edge of Pride has softened as the event has grown. As the festival expanded in scale and visibility, the focus on protest and activism has sometimes faded into the background, even as new challenges and divisions have emerged. Some voices have called for a return to Prideās more radical roots. The 2017 Equality March for Unity and Pride drew 80,000 people to D.C., centering intersectional struggles ā police violence, immigrant rights, trans inclusion ā and exposing the widening rift between mainstream LGBTQ progress and the lived realities of the most vulnerable. The question remains: Are LGBTQ officers marching in uniform a sign of progress or a painful reminder of Prideās roots in resistance to state violence? During Capital Pride 2017, activists blocked the parade, targeting floats sponsored by corporations linked to weapons manufacturing, pipeline financing, and other forms of oppression.
As we prepare for WorldPride and the anniversaries of D.C.ās first Gay Pride Day Block Party and the White House picket, the Rainbow History Project invites you to experience this living history at Freedom Plaza. Through archival images and the voices of organizers and participants, youāll discover how Pride in DC has been shaped by resilience, reinvention, and the ongoing struggle to ensure every voice is heard.
Zoey OāDonnell is a member of the Rainbow History Project. Vincent Slatt is RHPās senior curator.Ā
Commentary
A conversation about queers and class
As a barback, I see our communityās elitism up close

In the bar, on the way to its now-Instafamous bathrooms, thereās a sign that reads, āqueer & trans liberation means economic justice for all.ā
I remember seeing that sign the first week the bar opened, and ever since I often find myself reflecting on that message. I stand fully in agreement. Thatās why laws protecting queers in the workplace are essential, for far too often we are targeted otherwise. It’s also why I love working at the bar, since it provides opportunities for queers from all over the spectrum to earn a living. At a time when I gave myself space to pursue art, it was the bar that enabled me to do so.
Itās one thing to support the LGBTQ community in spirit, but that spirit means jack in a capitalist society if viable economic opportunities donāt exist. Speaking of jack, thereās a fellow barback named Jack who I fangirl over often. Jack is a decade younger than me, but damn I wish I had his sex appeal at his age (or any age, for that matter). He also has a mustache that easily puts mine to shame.
Jack not only agrees but took things one step further. āEconomic inequality IS a queer issue,ā he told me, āespecially as we move into the most uncertain period of American politics I have ever lived through, it is apparent our identity is now a fireable offense.ā
Uncertain is right. Weāre fresh off the heels of a trade bonanza, one caused for literally no reason by our current commander in chief. Yet there emerged a strange division when discussing the trade warās āunintendedā consequences. For working class comrades like Jack and myself, weāre stressed about increasing prices in an already tough economy. But the wealthier echelons of our country had something else on their mind: the spiraling stock market. This alone highlights the story of our economic divide, where the same event produces two separate concerns for two distinct classes.
This is not to say the stock market is not important, but sometimes the media forget many Americans donāt own stock at all, including a vast majority of people between 18 and 29. In fact, according to Axios, the wealthiest 10 percent of Americans own 93 percent of the entire stock market, with the richest 1 percent holding $25 trillion ā thatās right, trillion with a ātā ā in market value. So, when the president reversed course on trade, it was less about high prices hurting everyday Americans and more about the dent created in the wealth of the wealthiest. And Iāll admit: that bothers me a lot.
If there is any takeaway from Trumpās trade war, it should be this: Economic inequality is the highest it has been in decades and, if left unchecked, will destroy the fabric of our country. We are steadily moving toward oligarchy statusāif weāre not there already, that isāand it seems to grow worse with each passing year and administration. But in a city of D.C. gays who often skew corporate, I wonder: Are we all on the same page here?
After becoming a barback, I have my doubts. From questions about what else I do, to comments encouraging me to work hard so that I can be a bartender one day, I quickly learned the gay world is not too fond of barbacking. Barebacking, sure, but not barbacking. And hey, I get itāweāre not the alcohol hookup at the bar. Still, we are part of the service industry, and while some people are incredibly kind, youād be surprised at how many turn up their noses at us, too.
Recently, Iāve come to realize my class defines me as much as my orientation does, if not more. Naturally, when you come from a rough neck of the woods like I do, itās easy to feel out of place in a flashy city like D.C., which Jack noticed, too. āAnyone from a working class background could testify to that,ā he said. āI donāt really know anyone from true upper class backgrounds, but Iād imagine their experience is one that leans into assimilation.ā
Assimilation is a key word here, for admittedly gays love to play with the elite. Often, we donāt have children, meaning more money for the finer things in life, but that also means we may not think about future generations much, either. Iāve written before that our insecurity growing up has us ready to show the world just how powerful gays can beāpower that comes in trips to Coachella and Puerto Vallarta, or basking in the lavish houses and toys we own. Thereās already a joke that gays run the government, and corporate gays kick ass at their jobs as well. So, given the choice between fighting inequality and keeping a high-paying job, I must admit I have a hard time seeing where D.C. gays stand.
Admittedly, it worked out in our favor before, given that many corporations catered to our economic prowess over the years. But look at whatās happening now: Many corporations have kicked us to the curb. Protections are being stripped from queers, particularly for our trans brothers and sisters. Law firms are bowing down to Trump, offering hundreds of millions in legal fees just for their bottom line. All of this will hurt both queers and the working class in the long run, so again I ask: Corporate gays, where do you stand? Because if you remain complicit, thatās bad news for us all.
I donāt want to sound accusatory, and I hate being a doomsday type, so allow me to end this on a better note. Strength is not about celebrating when times are good. Arguably, true strength emerges when times get tough. These are tough times, my friends, but that also makes now the perfect opportunity to show the world just how strong we are.
At a time when the world is pressuring us to turn our backs on each other, we must defy them to show up when it counts. Corporate gaysānow more than ever, at a time when the economy is turning its back on queers, we need you. We need you to stand up for the queer community. We need you to make sure no one gets left behind. We need you to show up for us, so that we can show up for you, too.
Ten years ago, the economy didnāt turn queer out of nowhere. The economy turned queer because we made it turn queer.
And if we did it once, surely we can do it again.
Jake Stewart is a D.C.-based writer and barback.