Politics
Rising political violence raises safety questions for LGBTQ candidates, officeholders
Victory Fund President and CEO Evan Low shared how his groups are handling it
A study published in January 2024 by the Brennan Center for Justice found that America is experiencing a surge in political violence not seen since the assassinations of the 1960s, noting the insurrection at the U.S. Capitol, the attempted murder of Speaker Emerita Nancy Pelosi’s (D-Calif.) husband by a hammer wielding assailant, the shooting of Republican U.S. Rep. Steve Scalise and Republican colleagues at the annual Congressional Baseball Game, and threats against members who opposed U.S. Rep. Jim Jordan’s (R-Ohio) bid for House speaker.
Since the report was issued, there were other high-profile incidents including two attempts on President Donald Trump’s life, an arson fire set with molotov cocktails at the home of Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro (D), and the murder and attempted murder of Democratic lawmakers in Minnesota by a suspect who allegedly kept lists of dozens of other elected officials and public figures.
While the spike in violence and intimidation has been felt across the board, the Brennan Center stressed that “surveys and interviews revealed important variations among officeholders’ experiences,” with “Abuse directed at women, people of color, religious minorities, and LGBTQ+ individuals in office often convey[ing] misogynistic, racist, religious, or homophobic hate.”
According to a growing body of reports from civil rights groups and law enforcement agencies, anti-LGBTQ rhetoric and legislation, particularly aimed at trans and nonbinary people, has emboldened extremist activity and heightened the risks for those serving in public life or running for office. The trends map onto the broader population-wide increases in hate violence and intimidation based on sexual orientation or gender identity.
At the same time, advocates say LGBTQ representation in public life is especially important as the community’s rights and freedoms are under assault.
For an insider’s view into the considerations at play for candidates and officeholders, earlier this month the Washington Blade spoke with Evan Low, president and CEO of the The LGBTQ+ Victory Fund and the LGBTQ+ Victory Institute. The organizations, respectively, work to recruit, endorse, and financially support LGBTQ candidates while providing them with leadership development, training, research, and convenings.
A former elected official who served in the California State Assembly from 2014 to 2024 and was previously the youngest openly gay Asian-American mayor in U.S. history, Low noted that “we have seen a significant increase” in threats and violence targeting LGBTQ candidates.
While concrete data is limited, Low said the organization has collected anecdotal reports from many of its more than 500 endorsed candidates, detailing everything from homophobic slurs to vandalized signs and direct threats. “Oftentimes, we’ll see lawn signs that say, ‘No homos in our community.’ That happens every single cycle.”
More recently, however, “I’d say, over the past five years, certainly,” Low said, “we’ve seen more of that rhetoric.” From “the conversations that we’ve had with our elected officials,” he said, the upticks are happening in places where “we’ve seen the increase in laws passed in state houses that really target our community, therefore giving justification to see the increase in the type of [anti-LGBTQ] rhetoric that we see.”
To address these risks, Victory Fund offers candidates strategic guidance and peer support. Low emphasized the importance of helping candidates remain authentic while taking the necessary precautions to stay safe. “We provide advice on how to deal with being authentic in your true lived experience as an openly gay person, while also understanding the safety risks that exist.”
To help the principals deal with these challenges, the organization is also piloting mental health and counseling services. “Sadly, this is the state of affairs,” Low said. “But we’re working to support elected officials, particularly in very hostile communities or states.”
One key element is connecting candidates with mentors — sitting officials who have weathered hate, intimidation, and in some cases violence. “We pair candidates up with other elected officials who have gone through these experiences,” Low said. “That way they have someone who can be a sounding board and share how they dealt with it.”
Victory Fund also urges candidates to report any threats. “Campaigning can be lonely and isolating,” Low said. “We want them to know they’re not alone.”
The threats differ depending on the level of office. Local candidates, Low said, because they often focus on basic civic issues like clean water and road maintenance, generally attract less hate and more grace from the communities they serve, while scrutiny is far more intense at the federal level where “you may face opposition research, threats, and high visibility.”
Low explained that Victory Fund’s training programs emphasize practical tactics and safety planning for candidates regardless of which office they are after. Candidates are urged to establish communication with local law enforcement, make their presence known to relevant agencies, and assess the risks unique to their districts. “We ask: Has there been violence in your area? Are there usual suspects that are hostile to our community? What kind of response can you expect from your local law enforcement?”
These conversations often begin even before someone decides to run, which is deliberate. Victory Fund’s four-day training programs are comprehensive, designed to help prospective candidates weigh not just the professional demands of a campaign, but also the toll on their personal lives. “We hope some participants realize this just isn’t for them — that they can support in other ways.”
Low noted that many LGBTQ+ individuals are drawn to service but may be introverted or have caregiving responsibilities that complicate a run for office. Others may be unsure about exposing their families to the risks that come with visibility. The decision of whether to feature photos of same-sex spouses and children in campaign materials, for instance, can be a balance between authentically representing oneself and mitigating legitimate fears about doxxing or harassment.
He recounted situations in which information about children of LGBTQ candidates was disseminated by far-right actors, even cases where kids were outed online or targeted with slurs. “I want to show that I’m just like any member of the community,” Low said. “But I also want to protect my kids. I’m fair game, but they are not.”
In some cases, Victory Fund has helped candidates erase personal information from the dark web, offering tools and technical assistance to minimize the threat of harassment. Yet, Low was careful to note that political violence can strike anywhere. “Look at Harvey Milk,” Low said. “He was assassinated in a liberal city, in a secured building.”
Low himself required a security detail during his time in the California Legislature. “At Pride parades and public events, I was joined by uniformed officers,” he said. “Even in a progressive state like California, the threats are real.”
That personal experience informs his approach as the head of Victory. “We want to lower the temperature — not just for LGBTQ+ officials but for everyone,” Low said, adding that doing so is vital to preserving democratic norms.
Despite the challenges, Low said interest in running for office has spiked, particularly among transgender individuals. The Victory Institute recently received more than 55 applications for a training cohort specifically for trans candidates, and will launch its first session in Los Angeles this September in partnership with Advocates 4 Trans Equality. Danica Roem, the first openly trans state senator in Virginia and a Victory alum, will be among the trainers.
“You’d think in this hostile environment, people would keep their heads down,” Low said. “Quite the contrary. The uptick is such that members of our community refuse to be erased. They are stepping up.”
He pointed to leaders like U.S. Rep. Sarah McBride, a former Victory intern, and Olivia Hill, the first and only trans person elected in Tennessee, as evidence of what’s possible. “Our mission is to build power for the LGBTQ+ community. We are laser focused on that.”
Many of the group’s most promising candidates are in states where anti-LGBTQ laws are on the books. “They are not just surviving,” Low said. “They are thriving.”
Victory’s long-term strategy is focused not just on the next election but on building a pipeline of LGBTQ leaders for the next 10 to 20 years. “We are about the long game,” Low said. “It’s two steps forward, one step back.”
He hopes the stories of LGBTQ officials running and winning in hostile environments will inspire others to get involved, whether as candidates, donors, appointees, or behind-the-scenes organizers. “We need everyone. And we need them now.”
The goal, Low said, is “To help LGBTQ people seize the highest thrones of power” and “change hearts and minds by showing up and leading.”
Congress
Bill seeks to block global gag rule expansion
Policy now bans US foreign aid to groups promoting ‘gender ideology’
Lawmakers on Wednesday introduced a bill that would block the expansion of the global gag rule.
President Ronald Reagan in 1985 implemented the global gag rule, also known as the “Mexico City” policy, which bans U.S. foreign aid for groups that support abortion and/or offer abortion-related services.
Trump reinstated the rule during his first administration. The Biden-Harris administration shortly after it took office in 2021 rescinded it.
The Trump-Vance administration earlier this year expanded the global gag rule to ban U.S. foreign aid for groups that promote “gender ideology.” The expansion took effect on Feb. 26.
U.S. Sens. Jeanne Shaheen (D-N.H.) and Jacky Rosen (D-Nev.) introduced the Protecting Human Rights and Public Health in Foreign Assistance Act in the U.S. Senate. U.S. Reps. Grace Meng (D-N.Y.), Lois Frankel (D-Fla.), Diana DeGette (D-Colo.), Pramila Jayapal (D-Wash.), Sara Jacobs (D-Calif.), and Gregory Meeks (D-N.Y.) introduced it in the U.S. House of Representatives.
“Using taxpayer money to export the Trump administration’s anti-trans, anti-science, and anti-abortion ideological agenda isn’t just immoral — it’s antithetical to efficient, effective, and rights-based foreign assistance,” said Council for Global Equality Senior Policy Fellow Beirne Roose-Snyder on Wednesday in a press release.
Meng added the Trump-Vance administration’s “crusade against healthcare and global aid is putting millions of lives at risk worldwide.”
“No one will flourish under the new expanded global gag rule,” said the New York Democrat. “These policies weaponize foreign aid and will result in greater harm, particularly for women and girls, marginalized communities, and LGBTQI+ individuals.”
“They should never have been implemented at all, let alone without even a basic public comment process,” she added. “This legislation will reverse these dangerous policies.”
The White House
From red carpet to chaos: A first-person narrative of the WHCD shooting
The Blade’s WH correspondent Joe Reberkenny recounts his night at the WHCD after a shooter attempted to gain entry.
It started as any White House Correspondents’ Dinner is supposed to go—I assume. I’ve never been to one before this, but based on other events I’ve attended at the Hilton, including an HRC gala, it all seemed fairly normal.
There was a lot of traffic. Police had blocked off streets encompassing a large portion of Adams Morgan—particularly around the hotel. The president was making his first appearance after boycotting the event during his first term, so there was a sense of anticipation. It took me about 45 minutes to go just under a mile from my apartment to about three blocks from the hotel in my Uber. I waited until the last possible second before I felt like I was going to be late—6:30—to get out of the car, because it was raining and I was wearing my green tux.
I walked up to a group of people checking tickets at the base of the hotel. They seemed to just be glancing at the tiny, index-card-sized tickets rather than conducting any kind of full security screening outside. As I walked from that first checkpoint to the drive-around drop-off area, I joined what was essentially one long line for the red carpet. It eventually split into people who wanted photos and those who didn’t—but again, there was no real need to show anything beyond that small ticket upon entering, and even that wasn’t being checked closely.
A light went off in my head; I felt that, given the speed at which security was checking tickets, they couldn’t fully see the foil logo and tiny table numbers from that distance. I remember thinking that if I had a similarly sized piece of paper, I could have gotten through up to that point.
I also noticed there was no real security checkpoint or metal detectors upon initially entering the hotel grounds—unlike what I had seen at the HRC gala the year before.
I waited about 35 minutes in line in the car drop-off area—without cars, since it had been repurposed to corral press and their guests before entering the building and heading onto the red carpet. I took my photo, then went up the escalator to meet my date, Jacob Bernard from Democracy Forward. They wouldn’t let him onto the red carpet without his ticket, so I gave him his, which I had been holding. He was already inside the venue despite not having his ticket on him and had been at one of the pre-parties.
That also struck me as odd—that you could access a pre-dinner party without a ticket or going through any visible security.
After I found him, we took a photo together at a step-and-repeat past the main red carpet area around 7:45. Oddly enough, a group of my friends—gays who I regularly see on the dance floors of the gay bars of Washington, who work in various government and media-adjacent fields—found me, and we took pictures together. None were White House correspondents or held a “hard pass” to the White House (security credentials that allow entry into the White House complex).
Another light went off in my head that indicated party crashers probably shouldn’t be getting inside to an event that is supposed to be one of the most secure rooms in the country.
After the photos, I could see groups of people being moved from pre-party spaces in various meeting rooms on other floors and directed toward the main floor where the red carpet had been.
My guest and I went back up to the main floor and walked through a small security checkpoint that included only a handful of metal detectors. From there, I went down the stairs from the lobby into the International Ballroom, where we took our seats at Table 200. I talked to a few people I knew—very traditional pre-event chit-chat. The vibes felt good. It was my first time attending, and I was genuinely excited.
Around 8:15, the Marine Corps Band played and “Commandant’s Four” color guard presented the flags. We were then told to take our seats.
They introduced the head table—the president, first lady, vice president, and members of the White House Correspondents’ Association board. Weijia Jiang, senior White House correspondent for CBS News and president of the WHCA, gave a brief speech, essentially saying we would eat first and then move into the main program, which was supposed to feature mentalist Oz Pearlman.
At this point my table, 200 which included members of the Wall Street Journal, the Blade, and a European outlet all started eating. About 15 minutes later, Washington Hilton staff began clearing plates and preparing to bring out the next course.
As they cleared the plates, I heard four loud bangs.
I saw hotel employees immediately start ducking. They seemed to understand the gravity of the situation much faster than most attendees, including myself. At first, it sounded like a tray might have fallen over (but I later found out that wasn’t the case).
After about 30 seconds of watching some people duck, others look around in confusion, and some continue eating and drinking, I got down. I kneeled with my chair in front of me as a kind of barrier. Being at Table 200, I felt somewhat removed from where the actual incident occurred.
Then I saw the president being whisked away quickly by Secret Service, along with the first lady and others at the head table.
My reporter instincts kicked in. I grabbed my phone and started filming. I saw SWAT team members rush into the ballroom and onto the stage, clearing the area. I captured a video of people looking around, confused about what had just happened.
A few minutes later, the room was told by the WHCA president to hold on—that they would provide more information and guidance on what would happen next. There was some indication that they might try to continue the event despite what had occurred.
Everyone started frantically checking X to see if any major outlets were reporting. I was receiving texts from family, friends, and colleagues about the rapidly unfolding situation.
I walked to the bathroom—twice, technically. I couldn’t find it initially because it was hidden behind black curtains. (Later, those curtains were removed, and the men’s room was in clearer view.)
During the first walk to the bathroom, I called my editor to tell him what was happening. He instructed me to start sending copy to another editor, who would get it online. The ballroom had almost no service—it’s in the basement of a 12-story hotel—so it was a challenge. I utilized SMS fallback (since iMessage wasn’t working) to send updates.
I returned to the table, where people were still hovering—calling editors, scrolling, texting, sending photos and copy. I was already drafting my story and sending it in chunks, adding details as I gathered more information.
I walked my guest toward the bathroom again, which was on the opposite side of the ballroom from our table, so I had to cross what felt like a sea of journalists, PR officials, guests, and others on their phones, talking and scrolling. My guest pointed out that the press pool was being held in an alcove away from the ballroom doors and escalator exit—not in the ballroom with everyone else.
“Alive” by the Bee Gees was playing over the speakers in the bathroom, which felt a little too on the nose.
On my way out, I heard someone speaking over a microphone and rushed to the ballroom entrance. WHCA President Weijia Jiang was speaking. She announced that the event was over and the space was being evacuated.
She also said that President Trump would hold a press conference at the White House in about 25 minutes.
That’s when I knew it was a race against the clock.
I called my editor a second time to update him and asked if I should head to the briefing (knowing the answer would be yes). He confirmed.
Then the crowd began to move. People grabbed purses, bottles—some left belongings behind. Even though it was technically becoming a crime scene, no one was actively forcing us out. It felt more like a collective understanding: It was time to go.
I texted my guest: “OK, I have to go to the White House. I’m so sorry to leave you.”
I made my way with the sea of people toward the one exit we were allowed to use and zipped between women in fancy gowns and men looking like penguins.
I put on my hard press pass, opened the Capital Bikeshare app, reserved the closest e-bike, and headed out.
I walked up Columbia Road to 20th and Wyoming, grabbed the bike, and rode down Wyoming, then 18th, cut over to U Street, and went straight down 16th to the White House. That ride was exhilarating. I also filmed an Instagram Reel updating my followers on what was going on. I could see tourists and D.C. residents alike looking at me from their cars and the sidewalk, obviously confused as to why a man dressed in a tux had hopped on a bike.
I got off the bike where 16th Street meets Lafayette Square and darted toward the first White House security checkpoint, where they were verifying press credentials. Luckily, I had mine. After that, it turned into a mad dash. Everyone who made it through started moving quickly.
The sound of heels on what I think was cobblestone—or maybe brick—sticks with me. My own shoes were clacking as I ran toward the White House alongside other journalists in heels and dress shoes.
At the Secret Service checkpoint, there was a separate line for hard pass holders. Having my hard pass let me skip much of the impeccably dressed line of journalists who didn’t think to bring their hard pass with them.
It was probably the most exquisitely dressed press crowd I’ve ever seen—tuxedos, gowns, full makeup. It felt like something out of “The Hunger Games.”
I went through security, put my belongings through the metal detector, entered my code, grabbed my things, and ran to the briefing room.
The White House
Grindr to host first-ever White House Correspondents’ Dinner party
App’s head of global government affairs a long-time GOP-aligned lobbyist
Gay dating and hookup app Grindr will host its first-ever White House Correspondents’ Weekend party on April 24.
The event is scheduled for the night before the White House Correspondents’ Dinner, an annual gathering meant to celebrate the First Amendment, honor journalism, and raise money for scholarships.
The White House Correspondents’ Dinner is organized by the White House Correspondents’ Association, a group of journalists who regularly cover the president and the administration.
An invitation obtained by the Washington Blade’s Joe Reberkenny and Michael K. Lavers reads:
“We’d be thrilled to have you join us at Grindr’s inaugural White House Correspondents’ Dinner Weekend Party, a Friday evening gathering to bring together policymakers, journalists, and LGBTQ community leaders as we toast the First Amendment.”
The Blade requested an interview with Joe Hack, Grindr’s head of global government affairs, but was unable to reach him via phone or Zoom. He did, however, provide a statement shared with other outlets, offering limited explanation for why the company decided 2026 was the year for the app to host this event.
“Grindr represents a global community with real stakes in Washington. The issues being debated here — HIV funding, digital privacy, LGBTQ+ human rights — are daily life for our community. Nobody does connections like Grindr, and WHCD weekend is the most iconic place in the country to make them. We figured it was time to host.”
Hack said the company has been “well received” by lawmakers in both parties and has found “common ground” on issues such as HIV funding and keeping minors off the app. He credited longstanding relationships in Washington and what he described as Grindr’s “respectful” approach to lobbying.
Hack, a longtime Republican-aligned lobbyist, previously worked for several GOP lawmakers, including U.S. Sens. Deb Fischer (R-Neb.), Jon Kyl (R-Ariz.), George Voinovich (R-Ohio), Bill Frist (R-Tenn.), and U.S. Rep. Randy Forbes (R-Va.).
According to congressional disclosure forms compiled by OpenSecrets, Grindr spent $1.3 million on lobbying in 2025— more than Tinder and Hinge’s parent company Match Group.
“This is going to be elevated Grindr,” Hack told TheWrap when describing the invite-only party that has already generated buzz on social media. “This isn’t going to be a bunch of shirtless men walking around. This is going to be very elevated, elegant, but still us.”
He also pointed to the company’s work on HIV-related initiatives, including efforts to maintain federal funding for healthcare partners that distribute HIV self-testing kits through the app.
The event comes at a particularly notable moment for an LGBTQ-focused connection platform to enter the Washington social circuit at a high-profile political weekend, as LGBTQ rights remain under constant attack from conservative lawmakers, particularly around transgender healthcare, sports participation, and public accommodations.
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