Opinions
Protection should mean protection
Disbelief as court modifies protective order against Pasha
There is a particular kind of disbelief that Black queer women know intimately. It is not always explicit. It shows up in hesitation, in “both sides” framing, and in systems that require us to prove, again and again, that we are worthy of safety.
We see that disbelief happening now with the temporary protection order (TPO) involving an individual, D. Pasha. He is accused of repeatedly harassing staff, board members, and volunteers at the Capital Pride Alliance, which led the organization to ask the court for protection.
The Capital Pride Alliance did not seek this order lightly. They spent over a year documenting his harassment, and several witnesses gave almost two hours of testimony about a pattern of behavior that caused real fear. The organization also spent months working out how to legally protect its staff, volunteers, board, and contractors from this individual.
At first, the Court agreed and issued a stay-away order that included CPA’s office and other locations, setting a clear boundary to protect staff, volunteers, and community members.
But that protection did not last.
After the order was issued, Pasha spoke with a reporter from the Washington Blade and learned that CPA shares office space with the DC LGBTQ Center. It is important to note that he didn’t know this detail before. He then sought an emergency hearing, claiming he needed access to “vital services” from the CPA and DC LGBTQ Center shared offices.
The Court granted it, allowing access with a 24-hour notice to CPA. According to the Court, the modification was based on Mr. Pasha’s claim that denying him entry to the DC Center would prevent him from accessing essential support services provided there. Although CPA objected and highlighted the lack of recent service usage and the availability of alternatives, the Court determined that his stated need for services warranted an exception to the stay-away order.
Let’s be clear about what this means.
There is no record of him accessing services or being at the DC LGBTQ Center in over a year. Numerous organizations across DC provide the same services he cited: food, clothing, computers, Wi-Fi, without placing him in proximity to the people who testified against him.
And yet, the Court modified the order to allow exactly that.
Then it escalated. Following the modification, he sent more than 20 emails and text messages in attempts to gain access to our office space, triggering another emergency hearing. At that second emergency hearing, the court maintained its previous decision, allowing Mr. Pasha continued access to the location.
This is not a technicality. This is a failure of real protection.
The outcome was shaped not just in the courtroom, but in how it was presented afterward.
Recent coverage centered the acceptance of a less restrictive order, while giving the person at the center of this case a platform to define the narrative in his own words. He was described as an LGBTQ activist, quoted at length, and presented with his name, voice, and image, including statements like “I am happy with what we have accomplished so far,” “even if I lose this case, I am glad that I spoke up,” and that “the truth will come out.”
That framing does not exist in a vacuum. It omits important context about the pattern of conduct that led to this case, including the history and the events that followed the Court’s initial order. It also gives weight to claims about access to services that are not reflected in actual usage.
At the same time, the hours of testimony describing a pattern of conduct that caused fear, serious alarm, and emotional distress are reduced to a small part of the story. The individuals who came forward are largely unnamed, unseen, and unheard. The record that was built in court is condensed, while his narrative is expanded.
When one side is given visibility, voice, and narrative, and the other is reduced to summary, that is not balance. It is distortion.
We also need to be honest about who is being asked to bear the consequences of that failure.
Two Black queer women testified. They followed the process. They showed up, told the truth, and trusted the system to do what it is designed to do: protect them.
Instead, the system created a pathway back to proximity, back to fear.
That is not a neutral outcome. It is a choice about whose safety matters most and whose safety can be compromised.
This is not an isolated incident. It reflects a broader pattern in how systems fail Black women, survivors, and LGBTQ+ people, especially at the intersections of those identities.
According to the Human Rights Campaign, data shows that over 60% of bisexual women and more than 40% of lesbian women experience physical violence or stalking.
Violence does not start with homicide. It starts with being dismissed, with being minimized, and with systems that do not act fairly or quickly when harm is reported.
It starts when people question the credibility of Black queer women.
When access is granted to those who cause fear, instead of protection being fully extended to those who experience it.
And it continues when we treat these outcomes as unfortunate, rather than unacceptable.
Capital Pride Alliance believes in access. We invest in it. We help sustain the very services being cited in this case. But access cannot come at the expense of safety, especially when alternatives exist, and risk is known.
The question here is not complicated: what does protection actually mean, and who deserves it?
If a court acknowledges harm but still allows proximity, is that protection?
If Black queer women testify and are still placed within reach of the person they testified against, what message does that send?
We cannot keep calling these systems fair if they keep putting the same people at risk.
Courts need to think about safety in a broader sense, one that reflects real life rather than just following procedures. This means looking at not only direct threats, but also ongoing harassment, intimidation, and the real fear survivors feel when they must share space with someone who has harmed them.
Real changes could include ensuring stay-away orders are enforced even in shared spaces, working with community groups to offer alternative ways to access services, and asking survivors about their safety needs before changing protection orders. Courts should also get training on the experiences of Black queer women and LGBTQ+ survivors, so their voices and realities are at the center of decisions.
Our community needs to work toward real safety and protection. Because visibility without safety is not liberation. Protection that can be so easily undone is not protection at all.
May 28 is LGBTQ+ Domestic Violence Awareness Day.
#SeenAndBelieved is a call to action: recognize the harm, trust survivors, and create systems that truly protect them.
June Crenshaw is COO of the Capital Pride Alliance.
Opinions
Corporate LGBTQ Pride 2026 on life support
A rainbow washout as marketing dollars disappear
Terrified of becoming targets of right wing media and activists, businesses and brands are fleeing Pride support in 2026. The fear of boycotts and retribution have seen Pride sponsorships plummet to previously unseen levels. Further, there is now a complete corporate reevaluation of marketing and advertising activities in the LGBTQ consumer sector writ large.
No more rainbow washing. For the past 30 years, corporations have literally wrapped their brands in rainbow colored monikers during the month of June. This practice, know as “rainbow washing,” sought to ingratiate companies with the over $1 trillion LGBTQ consumer segment. From rainbow filled Oreos to rainbow wrapped Burger King Whoppers, brands actively engaged in developing relationships with this coveted consumer. Now, it’s considered taboo.
No more multi-million dollar beer sponsorships in the aftermath of the Bud Light disaster. For the first time since the over 100 Pride festivals accepted marketing opportunities, major brands including Bud Light, Miller and Corona have decided that reputational risk, boycotts and the like are more dangerous than the commercial reward. Their non-participation and the significance of this loss cannot be overstated.
When right-wing bloviators co-opted the meaning of the word woke, they turned a positive definition into a pejorative. Now, corporations and brands are petrified of being labeled as woke, and in turn, are curtailing marketing outreach to niche consumer segments, LGBTQ included.
Anti-woke legislation has now appeared in a multitude of states, primarily around transgender issues. Bathroom bills, as they are known, are ubiquitous. Boys playing in girls sports,is portrayed as a national emergency. These issues are a constant presence on social media as well as at every level of government, and have had a major impact on LGBTQ-related corporate activities.
But perhaps most devastating, is the federal government effort to enact elements of the right-wing’s Project 2025 agenda, seeking to eradicate DEI at every level. Companies, universities, and nearly all institutions that previously championed diversity, equity, and inclusion, have rapidly and radically disbanded and defunded all DEI efforts and activities within their organizations. Discontinuing supplier diversity initiatives, defunding support for internal ERG’s (employee resource groups), and decamping from participation in HRC’s (Human Rights Campaign) Equality Index. Importantly, this index is considered the gold standard for corporate DEI evaluation, and its repudiation is having a profound effect on corporate behavior.
DEI is now in the ICU on life support, with little chance of resuscitation. Companies that once embraced DEI have retreated in fear, in spite of critical positive facts. In 2023, McKinsey and Company, no bastion of liberalism stated, “that for five years, our research has shown a positive, statistically significant correlation between company financial outperformance and diversity, on the dimensions of both gender and ethnicity.”
What happens next is unknown. We have entered uncharted territory where the confluence of so many factors is having negative effects. June 2026 has seen many companies severely curtail or fully exit partnerships with Pride organizations and LGBTQ marketing programs in general, citing among other things, economic concerns. However, no company can honestly deny that overall fear and the increasingly hostile climate for DEI and LGBTQ issues have prompted brands to rethink their overall support and initiatives. This, despite pressure from stakeholders and shareholders, and vital employee recruitment and retention efforts.
Political winds have outcomes. It would be naïve to think that there might be an immediate rethinking should the Congress or presidency change parties. Business cycles, though more agile than government, take longer to work through. Years, not months. So just as quickly as “rainbow washing” has come to a precipitous end, so too is the arrival and reckoning with the blistering Rainbow Washout.
Andrew A. Isen is the founder and president of WinMark Concepts, a D.C.-based marketing and communications firm. For 35 years, WinMark has been advising companies and brands on defining and developing effective LGBTQ business strategies.
Opinions
Cowardly corporations abandon LGBTQ America
Execs are hiding in the closet this Pride season. Should we ever welcome them back?
I had a thought provoking conversation with Billy Porter over Memorial Day weekend. The talented and opinionated star asked me how things were going at the Blade and in D.C. given the current administration in the White House.
It was a loaded question. The short answer is that things in D.C. are pretty terrible these days — the economy is down, inflation and gas prices are up; small businesses and non-profits are struggling amid widespread government funding cuts; and, yes, media outlets large and small are also feeling the pinch. Even the aesthetics of our once beautiful city are suffering (see the White House lawn).
For queer-identified businesses, the news is worse, as major corporations across the country have reduced or eliminated support for anything deemed “DEI,” which includes LGBTQ causes and support for Pride celebrations.
When I explained all of this to Porter, he replied with a quick and definitive comment that has left me thinking for weeks: “And when the pendulum swings back, don’t let those companies back in. Ever.”
There are certainly some big companies that continue to live their values and stand by the LGBTQ community — Absolut, Marriott, Walmart, Coca-Cola. But so many others have abandoned us at a challenging time — Target, Bud Light (and most beer brands), PepsiCo, Accenture, among a long list.
There’s a lot of cynicism about so-called “rainbow capitalism,” or the practice of companies profiting off of the LGBTQ community especially during Pride month. We’ve seen all sorts of silly pandering in recent years — rainbow Oreos and Doritos come to mind.
But corporate America has frequently been called upon to play an important role in advancing equality. From implementing inclusive and affirming hiring and workplace practices (especially in places lacking legal protections) to using their influence to advance public policy, our corporate allies have helped us in myriad ways. To suggest we don’t need them ignores the many accomplishments corporate leaders have made on our behalf. They stepped up to fight bathroom bills in North Carolina and they successfully blunted Mike Pence’s notorious “license to discriminate” law in Indiana.
That was then. Fast forward to 2026 and under pressure from the corrupt Trump administration, our former corporate allies have run for cover. They are cowards. Their cynical abandonment of the LGBTQ community has grave consequences. New York City Pride ran $800,000 short last year after major sponsors like Mastercard and Nissan pulled out, according to a recent report in the Wall Street Journal. San Francisco Pride fell $300,000 in debt last year when Anheuser-Busch and others pulled out, the Journal noted. Phoenix Pride has filed for bankruptcy. There will be many other casualties.
The topic of how to respond if and when the pendulum swings back is a popular one right now in the LGBTQ movement. Do we replace corporate sponsorship dollars with grants and individual donations? That’s easier said than done. Do we take their money and forgive these transgressions? Or do we follow Porter’s advice and tell them to fuck off?
Nonprofits, Pride organizations, and queer media outlets like the Blade have some thinking to do about this. No one is in business to turn away sponsors and ad dollars. But we have a responsibility to our customers, readers, and community to operate ethically. An ad in the Blade carries a lot more subtext and meaning than an ad in the Washington Post.
To those companies and executives hiding in the closet this Pride season: Shame on you. To the companies standing with us: Our sincere gratitude. Our community’s memory is long and we will not forget those who resisted Trump’s anti-DEI crusade to stand on the right side of history.
Kevin Naff is editor of the Washington Blade. Reach him at [email protected].
Opinions
Confronting homophobia at school
Queer students should feel comfortable and safe in the classroom
A couple weeks ago, I was walking into my school’s cafeteria, about to get lunch. As I navigated around groups of students, I heard a student shouting “ fa**ot!” over and over again at one of his friends, as some kind of joke or playful insult. How do I know it was a joke? Because I’ve seen countless amounts of people at my school call each other this slur, or other homophobic language while bantering with their friends. The prevalence of homophobia in my school, even if it’s not directed at queer people, is troubling.
As an openly queer student, I’ve experienced homophobia in school since middle school. During middle school, I was teased, bullied, and ostracized just because I tried to live as my authentic self. My classmates knowingly asked me uncomfortable and invasive questions about my sexuality, and I was called all types of dehumanizing names. The bullying was so bad that I would frequently isolate myself during school, just so I could get a break from all of the harassment I went through. I felt like I was an outcast, so I’d constantly hide myself behind books or my computer. I started to develop depressive and suicidal thoughts, and every day I had to go to school was a nightmare for me.
When I eventually graduated middle school and started high school, I was elated to discover that there were many more queer students at my school, some of whom I’d eventually get to know and become friends with. However, the homophobia I faced did not go away, but instead took a new form. Instead of hearing homophobic slurs directed at me, they’re now used as if they were another insult, like “stupid” or “idiot,” despite the fact that they carry much more weight. I still have to face the effects of the normalization of homophobia and homophobic language in schools, and it isn’t just my school that has this problem.
According to the District of Columbia Public Schools Panorama Survey, only 45 percent of gay and lesbian students, 37 percent of bisexual students, and 39 percent of transgender or nonbinary students in DCPS schools say that students in their school show them respect. Across the entire district, over half of LGBTQ students feel as if they are not respected in school which is both heartbreaking, yet not surprising to see as a queer student myself. And this is a consistent trend across all of America. According to Glisten’s 2025 National School Climate Survey, which polls LGBTQ youth about their school climate, two-thirds of LGBTQ students said they felt unsafe at school due to their sexual orientation or gender identity. In addition, 63 percent of students reported hearing homophobic remarks from peers, and 62 percent and 68 percent of participants experienced harassment or assault based on sexual orientation or gender identity respectively.
School should be a place where queer students should feel comfortable and safe, a place where they can learn and prosper. Instead, so many are mistreated and abused, and feel as if they’re an outsider in their own community. Teachers and administrators should be striving to create a LGBTQ+ friendly space where all kinds of students can work toward their goals in an environment where they feel accepted and loved.
(This work is part of a partnership between the Washington Blade Foundation and Youthcast Media Group, funded through the FY26 Community Development Grant from the Office of D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser. Quinn McPherson is a rising sophomore at Benjamin Banneker Academic High School, one of Youthcast Media Group’s journalism class partners. YMG founder, former USA Today health policy reporter Jayne O’Donnell, contributed to this report.)
