Local
Casualties of war
Gay Iraqi, shot helping U.S., seeks fresh start in D.C. area

Firas Abdulmajeed, 33, a gay Iraqi refugee, has been in the U.S. for a month. A computer science expert, Abdulmajeed lost a leg to the Shiites while working as a translator for the U.S. Army in Baghdad. He’s now trying to find work in the Washington area. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)
Firas Abdulmajeed wants to make one thing clear up front: He’s not looking for a handout, just a job.
The 33-year-old gay Iraqi refugee, who fled to Alexandria, Va. a month ago with his 68-year-old mother after living six years in the United Arab Emirates, has faced an uphill battle most of his life. His home country was ravaged by war for most of his formative years; he lived under the violent regime of Saddam Hussein; and he suffered within a virulently anti-gay society that told him his same-sex desires were demonic.
Things have calmed for Abdulmajeed since he arrived in the U.S., but huge obstacles remain. While fluent in English and possessing the proper papers to work here, he suffered a life-changing gunshot wound in his native Iraq on July 21, 2003, that eventually required a below-the-knee amputation of his left leg.
The loss had an incalculably negative effect on Abdulmajeed’s life. He sometimes wishes the wound had been fatal.
He has a bachelor’s degree in computer science that he earned from Al Mansour University in his hometown of Baghdad, but Abdulmajeed says he’d be happy taking any job that doesn’t require him to stand and walk for any length of time. Infection and shoddy medical care after the injury — he’s certain his leg could have been saved had he received proper care — resulted in 17 operations, years of excruciating pain and a series of ill-fitting prosthetics that offer little help.
He met James Jorkasky, a gay Arlington resident, at a grocery store in Northern Virginia two weeks ago. Jorkasky, a lobbyist for medical research funding, could see Abdulmajeed was struggling to walk and started their conversation. He’s been using his contacts to help Abdulmajeed find a job, see an orthopedic surgeon and get a proper-fitting prosthetic leg.
“I’m really pushy and nosy, so I asked a lot of questions and found out a lot,” Jorkasky says. “I just thought maybe I could help.”
Abdulmajeed says knew he was gay around age 13. He was athletic and enjoyed swimming. He soon realized he was attracted to men he saw at the pool — and thought he was the only person in the world who felt this way. Confiding to the head of his mosque about his desires proved disastrous.
“He started shouting, ‘You are the devil,’ and kicked me out. I felt awful and embarrassed. So it was a hard time.”
The development came during Hussein-era Iraq, which natives regard as something of a mixed bag. Abdulmajeed says many Iraqis prefer it to the violence and chaos that has engulfed the country since the U.S. invasion. Even gay life was better then, he says.
“There was a gay community and a gay cruising area. In the Saddam time it was better. If you were gay and don’t talk about the government or Saddam, you were safe. Now both the Sunnis and Shiites are against that and want to show the Islamic world they are brave so they kill gay people.”
Abdulmajeed moved to Dubai after college, working various administrative jobs, but came back to Iraq just before the U.S. invasion in 2002. By March 2003, communication was down and Abdulmajeed, who lived with his parents again in Baghdad, visited a hotel to try to learn the whereabouts of relatives. Though Muslim, Abdulmajeed had attended a Catholic school and studied English. He also studied in Dubai and honed his speaking skills watching U.S. movies.
Abdulmajeed approached a U.S. Army officer and asked him in English if it was possible to make an international call at the hotel. In turn, the officer gave him an offer to work for the U.S. as a translator. Abdulmajeed became one of a team of Iraqi translators working in an Army contracting office in the Green Zone, Iraq’s international 3.8 square-mile zone in Baghdad.
While the work went well, it quickly became obvious to Abdulmajeed, a Sunni Muslim, that the Shiites did not approve of his work for the U.S. His new car was stolen, which he says may have had nothing to do with his work, but about three weeks later, a small bomb was thrown into his family’s house. Intimidating notes were sent to him. Still, he didn’t consider quitting.
“I think I was doing a good job and the officers in the contracting office, they were really nice people,” he says. “I wanted to help the Iraqis, and they always try to support Iraqi vendors, so I think it was [a] really good job, ethically, as I am Iraqi and also the payment was good.
“I didn’t understand the message — or maybe I was ignoring the message — as I [had] a chance to have [a] promotion to work with the USA embassy in Baghdad, as I was a hard worker.”
‘I’ll never forget his face’
The attack that claimed part of Abdulmajeed’s left leg happened quickly.
It was a Saturday in July 2003 and extremely hot. Abdulmajeed was waiting for a taxi to take him to his office in the Green Zone. He remembers thinking it would be a busy day, more like a Monday because the office was closed on Sunday, so there’d be extra work. On this day, he was to accompany a U.S. officer to a construction site.
He remembers thinking how hot it would likely be in the Humvee without air conditioning.
Without warning, a Shiite he’d never seen before came face to face with him carrying a gun. After reciting a Muslim creed (“I believe in one god, one prophet Mohammad…”), he pointed at Abdulmajeed’s left leg and shot him.
“I’ll never forget his face,” Abdulmajeed says. “He didn’t cover his face or try to hide. By the chance that a police [officer] was there it didn’t matter, because there was no government at that time. I didn’t feel it, actually. I just fell and my feet were moving kind of automatically. I was confused, then I start seeing blood over my jeans and I knew something was wrong. He was so close to me he could have easily shot me in the head and nobody would have stopped him.”
A neighbor helped Abdulmajeed get to a hospital by taxi, but staff there had few supplies and said they could do nothing for him. He was taken to another hospital where he stayed for six months. It was the beginning of a grueling ordeal that continues today.
Painkillers were in short supply. He was given one pill a day. He cut it in half and took half in the morning and half in the evening. Some of the 17 surgeries were performed without any anesthetic. His mother stayed with him around-the-clock at the hospital — a blessing and curse as he felt he had to mask his true emotions so she wouldn’t see him in agony.
“You act as if you don’t care because your parents are watching,” he says. “They want to know how you feel and you feel down but you cannot show it, the things in my heart, so I just smile and [was] joking.”
Aside from the physical pain, there were other scars. Just 26 years old at the time, Abdulmajeed realized he’d never again enjoy his hobbies of swimming and tennis. He also thought it would affect his desirability in the gay world.
“Maybe if I were straight it would be easier, but as a gay, it’s worse because it’s hard to be gay and beauty is so hard, and at that time I was thinking about my future, which I lost it already. I lost my job and every dream I had in my life.”
By July 2003, many doctors had fled Iraq or had been killed. A steel rod was inserted into Abdulmajeed’s leg, but he says that turned out to be a mistake as the wound should have been kept open. A gangrene-like infection set in and the muscle started dying. The infection caused a foul smell that scared away visitors. And though he’d had a boyfriend for about 18 months prior to the shooting, Abdulmajeed was dumped while he was in the hospital.
“He sent a message through a friend and said, ‘I can’t be with an amputee guy,’“ Abdulmajeed recalls.
Within a few weeks, he also lost his Army job, since being in the hospital prevented him from performing his duties.
Upon his release from the hospital, Abdulmajeed found a cheap prosthetic in Iraq, but it required a size 10 shoe and Abdulmajeed’s shoes were one size too small. He was able to walk with the aid of a stick and also used a wheelchair.
A relative arranged for him to come to the UAE in July 2004, but he faced an anti-handicap prejudice.
“It’s the Mediterranean mentality,” he says. “They don’t even call you by name. They just say, ‘Amputee.’ That really affected me a lot but I don’t have another choice. I couldn’t go back to Iraq and I was only allowed to stay in the UAE as long as I had a job.”
Abdulmajeed’s father, a retired civil engineer, was kidnapped in November 2006 after Abdulmajeed left for the UAE. The circumstances surrounding his disappearance remain unclear, but his mother was ordered to pay $30,000 to get him back. She followed the instructions to drive to a spot two hours from her house with the money. They were supposed to send her husband an hour after getting the money. She never saw him again.
Abdulmajeed says the tragedies were nearly too much to bear.
“We never even saw his body or know whatever happened to him. Surely he’s not still alive after all these years. So this old lady, she loses her husband and her son lost his leg for no reason. I didn’t do any mistake. If I was fighting or a soldier, that would be one thing, but I was a civilian. And my father, a Shiite kidnapped him because he was Sunni.
“It really affects your way of thinking, your dreams that you will get freedom. We don’t even need the freedom, just safety. And you can’t imagine the temperature. It’s 110 and there’s no electricity.”
Abdulmajeed eventually was able to have his mother join him in UAE in January 2007, but she was never the same.
“She lost it sometimes,” he says. “If I come in from work, I go inside the home and heard her speaking with my father. She imagines him there. So this is a problem.”
‘I don’t want charity’
Life stabilized for the two in UAE, but uncertainty loomed as their ability to remain there depended on Abdulmajeed staying employed, which he was able to do.
In 2007, he applied to a refugee program with the United Nations to come to the U.S. It was three years before his application was approved, but he and his mother, who has diabetes, high blood pressure and a heart condition, were able to come to the U.S. last month.
The two have little between them. He has a permanent Visa for refugees and a work permit, a few pieces of furniture, eight months of health insurance and food stamps.
“I don’t want charity or a handout,” Abdulmajeed says emphatically. “I just want a desk job, even data entry. Nothing fancy, just [enough] to cover expenses and to live here.
“About this point: I’m not looking for charity or donation. If someone wants to help, I need the jobs. Not because they’re sorry I lost my leg or am an amputee, but because he feels I desire a chance to prove myself. Only that. The day that I feel I can’t offer the life here, that’s the day I should go back to Iraq or wherever, but I don’t want charity.”
Jorkasky says he’s been amazed at his friend’s drive.
“I’ve never seen such a quick study on anything,” he says. “He soaks up everything I give him. I think somebody would get themselves and excellent, smart, dedicated worker.”
Jorkasky hopes the local LGBT community will help Abdulmajeed get the aid he needs.
Abdulmajeed’s new life is modest by American standards. He and his mother love the country and have been amazed by what they say are friendly, smiling people. He enjoys simple freedoms like visiting a garden near the apartment building where he lives. He’s been to no gay clubs since arriving. Jorkasky is his only gay friend. He knows one other Iraqi here.
“Sometimes I just sit there in the garden and I have this feeling how great it is do to anything or talking about anything gay or whatever in public,” he says. “I don’t have this feeling before, so this kind of freedom, it’s a great feeling everybody wants since childhood.
“I think there are a lot of Americans who may not agree with the war or the invasion of Iraq, but whatever your politics are, what gets lost in the equation a lot of times are the real casualties,” Jorkasky says. “I think everybody in the D.C. gay community should just take a step back and look at their lives and realize what they have compared to the incredible struggle that Firas has had. One of our brothers is suffering right now and needs our help.”
Job leads can be sent to Abdulmajaeed at [email protected] or Jorkasky at [email protected].
Rehoboth Beach
Rehoboth’s Blue Moon sold; new owners to preserve LGBTQ legacy
‘They don’t want to change a thing’
The iconic Blue Moon restaurant and bar in Rehoboth Beach, Del., has been sold to new owners who have pledged to keep it an LGBTQ-affirming space, according to longtime owner Tim Ragan.
Ragan and his partner Randy Haney sold the Blue Moon to Dale Lomas and Mike Subrick, owners of Atlantic Liquors on Route 1.
“They don’t want to change a thing,” Ragan said. “They’re local people, they live here. Dale worked his first job at Dolle’s.”
Ragan and Haney did not sell the business, only the real estate. The deal includes a 10-year lease with renewal options under which Ragan and Haney will continue to operate the Moon. He noted that the couple could opt to sell the business at any time.
“It’s going really well so I’m not in any hurry,” Ragan told the Blade. “It’s hard to run a business and manage a property that’s 120 years old — now someone else has to fix the air conditioning. Our responsibility will be to run the business.”
Ragan offered reassurances that the Moon will continue to be a gay-friendly destination.
“Dale’s comment was that Rehoboth has been good to us and we just want to give back. The Moon is part of Rehoboth’s history and we want to preserve that.”
He said there are no immediate changes planned for the structure, apart from a new roof in the atrium that was damaged in a hail storm. Ragan noted that the property comes with several apartment rental licenses that they have never exercised and the new owners may decide to rent those out.
The Blue Moon business, at 35 Baltimore Ave., dates to 1981 and is an integral part of Rehoboth’s LGBTQ community, hosting countless entertainment events, drag shows, and more over 45 years. Local residents have celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, and other special occasions in the acclaimed restaurant.
The two buildings associated with the sale were listed by Carrie Lingo at 35 Baltimore Ave., and include an apartment, the front restaurant (6,600 square feet with three floors and a basement), and a secondary building (roughly 1,800 square feet on two floors). They were listed for $4.5 million. The bar and restaurant business were being sold separately.
But then, earlier this year, the Blue Moon real estate listing turned up on the Sussex County Sheriff’s Office auction site. The auction was slated for Tuesday, April 21 but hours before the sale, the listing changed to “active under contract” indicating that a buyer had been found but the sale was not yet final.
Ragan said the issue was the parties couldn’t resolve how much was owed due to a disagreement with the bank. “We didn’t owe $3 million,” he said. “We said we’re not paying any more until we sell.”
The sale contract was written five months ago. It took three attorneys to get a payoff amount agreed to by the bank, he added.
“No one wanted to buy both things. We now have a longterm lease. We couldn’t be happier.”
Delaware
Rep. Sarah McBride reflects on first year in Congress amid political backlash
The Blade sat down with the Delaware Congresswoman to discuss her first year in office as her team gears up for the midterms
Delaware is widely known for its firsts. It’s the first state to ratify the U.S. Constitution, the first to join the Union, and the first to decide that no sales tax would be levied on its citizens.
Another historic first to come from Delaware is Sarah McBride. McBride is the first and only transgender member of Congress. The Blade sat down for an exclusive interview with the congresswoman to discuss a wide array of topics — from the Trump administration’s attacks on transgender service members to her current obsession with the reality TV show “The Traitors” — as well as her legislative work, which has already made her one of the busier members of her freshman class.
Her office in the Longworth House Office Building reflects the nuances of her political identity: deeply serious policymaking paired with an unmistakable sense of personality. Photographs of McBride with friends, family, and political heroes line the walls. A windowsill is filled with crystals. A “Bridgerton” pillow sits on her office couch — small artifacts that soften the institutional weight of Capitol Hill without diminishing it.
When asked how she was feeling more than a year into her first term, McBride acknowledged the climate she was elected into — marked by what she described as toxicity and division under Trump-era politics — but explained that she remains energized by the work ahead.
“I am more energized and motivated now than I was a year and a half ago,” said McBride from her Longworth office. “I’m also more hopeful than I was when I first started here. It was a couple of weeks before Donald Trump was sworn in – the chaos, the cruelty, and the fear was pretty pronounced.”
That sense of hope, she made clear, is not necessarily shaped by the noise inside Congress—including attacks from colleagues like Rep. Nancy Mace (R-S.C.) and Rep. Keith Self (R-Texas)— but instead by what she sees from the constituents she represents back home.
“I have seen the goodness of my neighbors, the goodness of people across Delaware who remind me, day in and day out, that the division and the toxicity we see online are not actually representative of real life. That social media can impact real life, but it’s not representative of it, and that is, for me, incredibly comforting, and I think, a profound reminder that we can still have conversations across disagreement, we can still persuade people, and we can still grow our ranks.”
That belief — that persuasion is still possible — serves as the through line for how McBride views both her role in Congress and the broader political moment. It also frames her sharp criticism of the Trump-Vance administration, which she argues is rooted less in governance than in destruction.
“Donald Trump is not a conservative, he is not a traditional Republican. Trump wants to destroy. His billionaire donors want to destroy. They thrive in a culture of cynicism. They want to destroy our attention span and mine what little remains for parts. They want to destroy jobs and health care so they can consolidate power for themselves, and in this moment, they want to destroy the international moral order so that the strong can plunder the weak.”
Still, she argues, that approach may be backfiring politically, something she says has only strengthened her sense of optimism.
“We have seen public opinion turn against the cruelty and incompetence of this administration, we’ve seen outrage and rightful opposition. One of the things that I feared early on was that this administration’s momentum would only grow, but instead what we’ve seen is that the cult of personality has begun to break. A growing and very large majority of Americans oppose what they’re seeing from this administration, and that is hope inducing for me. But beyond all of that, I am more motivated because of the change that I’ve been able to witness here in this office and on behalf of my constituents.”

That motivation is not abstract. It is measured in casework, legislative negotiations, and tangible dollars flowing back to Delaware. Alongside broader efforts, McBride co-sponsored the bipartisan “Equal Opportunity for All Investors Act” (H.R. 3339), which passed the House unanimously in 2025 while referred to the Committee on Banking, Housing, and Urban Affairs. The legislation broadened access to investment opportunities by allowing individuals to qualify as accredited investors based on expertise rather than wealth alone.
“Our office has returned roughly $5 million to individual Delawareans and secured roughly $150 million in critical investments for Delaware. I’ve been able to introduce more bipartisan bills here in Congress than any other freshman, and we’ve been able to prevent every single anti-trans bill or major provision from becoming law. That is something that I don’t know that I would have believed was possible, but it’s been a byproduct of the strategy that we have undertaken. In short, what I’ve seen is that we can still win hearts and minds and that you can still deliver for people here in Congress.”
That emphasis on strategy over spectacle defines much of McBride’s approach to politics. It also informs how she navigates her identity as the first openly transgender member of Congress. While her presence carries symbolic weight, she resists the idea that symbolism alone is sufficient.
“No single person can be the voice of any one community, certainly not a community as diverse as the entirety of the LGBT community. I believe that part of my responsibility as a trans person who has the privilege of serving here is to guarantee that while I may be a first, I’m not the last. One of the reasons why anti-trans politics has been so successful is because the right wing has characterized trans people, and one of the greatest things that I can contribute is helping to diversify the public’s understanding of who trans people are. That does far more to change the public’s perception and political dynamics than anything else that I could do.”
Much of that work, she emphasized, happens away from cameras and headlines. It’s an approach that has at times drawn criticism from some LGBTQ advocates who favor more confrontational tactics, but one she frames as essential to long-term change.
“In a social media age, we perceive advocacy to look like one very loud thing, but a lot of my work is also behind the scenes. Speaking out and posting a clip is not the only way to advocate for people; in fact, it’s often the avenue of last resort if you actually want to deliver results. Despite a campaign that spent $200 million in anti-trans ads and an administration obsessed with trans people, not a single anti-trans bill or provision has become law. That’s not by coincidence, it’s by hard work and a strategic approach to defending the LGBTQ community.”
That same discipline carries into how she handles political attacks and public scrutiny.
“When you are a first, people will be out in force to try to bait you into fights to prove that people like you don’t belong. If you respond to provocations, they will turn you into a caricature and say you’re the aggressor. My job is to be a proud Delawarean and a damn good legislator, and the rest will follow from that. When you don’t take the bait, you protect your ability to deliver results.”
That approach has helped her build unlikely alliances across the aisle.
“I made it clear that I was willing to work with anyone if we could find common ground to help my constituents. As a byproduct, a number of my Republican colleagues came up to me and said welcome to Congress and let’s find opportunities to work together. That has resulted in me being able to introduce more bipartisan bills than any other freshman. We’ve been able to secure investments and pass legislation that opens up more capital to entrepreneurs from underrepresented backgrounds.”
Looking ahead to the midterms, McBride is both cautious and pragmatic.
“I feel cautiously optimistic that if the election were held today, that Democrats would win a majority in the House, but the problem is that the election is not held today. Republicans will be out in force with a boatload of money and will continue to try to use people like me as a political wedge issue. We have to meet all voters where they are and keep our eyes focused on the universal needs that our constituents have. It’s going to require us to have a big tent from our left to our right so that we can meet this moment.”
“We should not put anything by the Republicans; they will seek to suppress the vote and undermine the will of the people. That reinforces the need for us to win by such a margin that our win is too big to contest. It’s going to require us to reach voters who didn’t vote for us and compete in places we have written off. If the stakes are as high as we say they are, then we need all of the help that we can get.”
Her focus on long-term party-building is equally central to her vision — one that would be willing to take a leadership position on if given the chance.
“I’m really grateful that our leadership has offered me opportunities to have my voice heard and to represent the caucus. I am eager to find any opportunity to elevate the voices of my constituents and contribute. My background was in communications, and I believe our party can find new ways to communicate with voters. Our caucus is going to be the tip of the spear in helping to rebrand our party and build a governing majority.”
“We need to deliver universal child care, a higher minimum wage, Medicare for all who want it, and millions of new homes. Winning the next election is not the end; we have to continue building toward a durable majority. I’m eager to contribute to that vision in any way that my caucus sees fit. That includes potentially serving in leadership if that’s where I can be most helpful.”

On foreign policy, she is equally direct. The ongoing war with Iran was something she, as a member of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, is not only familiar with but completely opposed to.
“The war is illegal, but it’s also stupid, and it is a catastrophe for the United States. [The Trump administration] has not achieved any of their stated goals, and everything that has been destroyed can be rebuilt. Iran now has more leverage globally, including control of the Strait of Hormuz. This war raised costs, lost lives, and achieved what was already achieved a decade ago without any of that.”
That frustration echoes in what she hears from voters at home.
“Delawareans are pissed, and they’re pissed because this president promised he would end wars and lower costs. He has broken both of those promises, costs are higher and there are more wars. They are facing higher costs when they were already struggling, and they see that his policies have made that crisis worse. People across this country are angry that those promises were broken.”
Concerns about political violence and digital radicalization also weigh heavily on her. Last week’s attack at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner is one instance of politically motivated violence continuing to fester and instill fear in the American political sphere.
“I was horrified when I heard that there were shots fired, and the rising tide of political violence is a cancer for our democracy. Social media is radicalizing people and fostering misinformation and conspiracy theories. When people see a world where everyone is either 100% with them or against them, they begin to believe persuasion is impossible. That is fertile ground for violent extremists and it is unsustainable for democracy.”
“Democracy requires faith in other people’s capacity to change, and when that belief is lost, peaceful politics breaks down. People are not as divided as the algorithms make it seem, and most people are good and decent. We can tap people’s better angels, but we have to be willing to be in conversation with them. You cannot tell me that change is impossible, I have seen it and lived it.”
That belief underpins her support for regulating social media platforms, though she is careful to stress that policy alone is insufficient. The congresswoman constantly faces threats, repulsive comments, and detestable words from people on her social media channels for her identity alone.
“There’s no question that we need regulation of social media platforms, social media is the 21st century big tobacco. Whether it’s liability, age limits, or transparency of algorithms, there are a host of solutions we need to pursue. But policy solutions alone will not solve this problem. We have to get offline and have conversations in person.”
“When we have conversations in person, we realize we have much more in common than we think. We are currently having political conversations in the most toxic place possible, online. That has to change if we want to sustain democracy. You will come away more hopeful when you engage with people face to face.”

Her LGBTQ priorities remain anchored in policy and humanism— something she references repeatedly.
“I helped draft the Equality Act and I would love to see it become law. In the nearer term, we should prioritize reversing the ban on transgender troops. These are decorated service members who have been fired for no other reason than their gender identity. They deserve to be treated with dignity and fairness and judged on their merits.”
She continued at length about the transgender service members removed under Executive Order 14183, emphasizing both their service and their erasure.
“These are individuals who are not just qualified, but more than qualified, who have been decorated service members, who have received promotions with unanimous and unqualified endorsement by their superior officers who have been fired from service to this country for no other reason than their gender identity. And I believe in this moment… there is no more effective representation of our community than the transgender service members who have put their lives on the line to serve this country and who have been treated with nothing but disrespect from this administration. They deserve to be treated with dignity and fairness and judged on their merits.”
Even in partisan fights, she returns to her guiding principle of discipline and restraint.
“Sometimes in politics you have to throw a punch with grace. Republicans initiated a mid-decade redistricting effort to gerrymander and pad their majority. They expected Democrats to fold, but those days are over. We fought back and we’re not going to let them steal elections in advance.”
When the conversation turns to how she maintains balance amid the chaos of national politics, McBride returns to unexpected sources of grounding — television, pop culture, and humor.
“I’ve watched every season of ‘The Traitors,’” she said.
When asked if she would ever take a trip to the Scottish Highlands to visit Alan Cumming’s castle, she said it would have to be after her work is done in Congress.
“If I was ever on ‘The Traitors,’ I would never be able to be a traitor. I would get too nervous and overwhelmed. I would have to be a faithful. But I think if there is a future where I am on that show, it will be after I’m in elected office.”
And through it all, she draws parallels between reality television and political life itself.
“If you want to understand how many in Congress work, the best tutorial is ‘The Real Housewives’ … There are people whose sole purpose is to get attention… If you throw wine back, they will just keep coming back for more … I’m not going to allow someone to get attention at my expense … I think all you need to understand is [Capitol Hill] is like an episode of ‘Real Housewives.’”
Still, for McBride, even amid the spectacle of Washington, the focus ultimately returns home.
“I am excited for beach season and I love Rehoboth and Baltimore Avenue,” she says. “It is the professional privilege of my lifetime to represent Delaware. I represent a district that is urban, suburban, and rural, and I get to see the full diversity of this country every day. Delaware shows that a different kind of politics is possible.”

District of Columbia
U.S. Attorney’s Office fails to reinstate hate crime charge in anti-gay assault
The Office of the U.S. Attorney for D.C., which prosecutes criminal cases in the District, has decided not to reinstate a hate crime designation filed by D.C. police against a man arrested in February for allegedly assaulting a gay man while using “homophobic slurs.”
After prosecutors with the U.S. Attorney’s Office initially dropped the hate crime designation filed by police shortly after the alleged attacker was arrested on Feb. 7, a spokesperson for the office told the Washington Blade the case was still under investigation, and additional charges could be filed.
“We continue to investigate this matter and make no mistake: should the evidence call for further charges, we will not hesitate to charge them,” a statement released by the office in February said.
But D.C. Superior Court records show the case against defendant Dean Edmundson, 26, of Germantown, Md., who is now charged with Simple Assault without a hate crime designation, is scheduled to go to trial on Aug. 18.
The U.S. Attorney’s Office this week did not immediately respond to a message from the Blade asking why it chose not to reinstate the hate crime designation.
An affidavit in support of the arrest filed in court by D.C. police appears to support the charge of a hate crime designation. It says the incident occurred around 7:45 p.m. on Feb. 7 at the intersection of 14th and Q Streets, N.W., which is near two D.C. gay bars.
“The victim stated that they refused to High-Five Defendant Edmundson, which, upon that happening, Defendant Edmundson started walking behind both the victim and witness, calling the victim bald, ugly, and gay,” the arrest affidavit states.
“The victim stated that upon being called that, Defendant Edmundson pushed the victim with both hands, shoving them, causing the victim to feel the force of the push,” the affidavit says, adding, “The victim stated that they felt offended and that they were also gay.”
Under D.C.’s Bias Related Crimes Act of 1989, penalties for crimes motivated by prejudice and hate against individuals based on race, religion, sexual orientation, gender identity disability, and homelessness can be enhanced by a judge upon conviction by one and a half times greater than the penalty of the underlying crime.
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