Local

Casualties of war

Gay Iraqi, shot helping U.S., seeks fresh start in D.C. area

Published

16 years ago

August 19, 2010

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].

District of Columbia

GLAA releases ratings for 18 candidates running for D.C. mayor, Council, AG

Mayoral contender Janeese Lewis Geroge among those receiving highest score

Published

32 minutes ago

May 12, 2026

Lou Chibbaro Jr.

Janeese Lewis George received a +10 ranking from GLAA. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

D.C. mayoral candidate Janeese Lewis George, a Democrat, is among just four candidates to receive the highest rating score of +10 from GLAA D.C. who are competing in the city’s June 16 primary election.

GLAA, formally known as the Gay and Lesbian Activists Alliance of Washington, has rated candidates for public office in D.C. since the 1970s. It rated 18 of the 36 candidates on this year’s primary ballot for mayor, D.C. Council, and D.C. attorney general based on its policy of only rating candidates who return a GLAA questionnaire asking for their positions on a wide range of issues, most of which are not LGBTQ-specific.

Among the candidates who did not return the questionnaire and thus did not receive a rating, according to GLAA, was Democratic mayoral contender Kenyan McDuffie, who along with Lewis George, is considered by political observers to be one of the two leading mayoral candidates running in the Democratic primary.

Lewis George and McDuffie, who each have long records of support for the LGBTQ community, are among a total of eight candidates running for mayor on the June 16 primary ballot: seven Democrats and one Statehood Green Party candidate. In addition to Lewis George, GLAA rated just two other mayoral candidates. Rini Sampath, a Democrat who self identifies as queer, received a +6.5 rating, and Ernest E. Johnson, also a Democrat, received a +4.5 rating

Under the GLAA rating system, candidate ratings range from a +10, the highest score, to a -10, the lowest possible score. In its ratings for the June 16 primary, the lowest score issued was +4.5. GLAA said in a statement that each of the 18 candidates it rated expressed strong support for LGBTQ-related issues in their questionnaire responses, indicating that the overall rating scores reflect the candidates’ positions on mostly non-LGBTQ-specific issues.

The three other candidates who received a +10 GLAA rating are each running as Democrats for the Ward 1 D.C. Council seat. They include gay candidate Miguel Trindade Deramo; Aparna Raj, who identifies as bisexual; and LGBTQ ally Rashida Brown. The only other Ward 1 candidate rated by GLAA is LGBTQ ally Terry Lynch, who received a +5.5 rating.

Ward 5 D.C. Councilmember Zachary Parker, the Council’s only gay member who is facing two opponents in the Democratic primary, received a +7 GLAA rating. The two challengers did not return the questionnaire and were not rated.

“In seven out of 10 of our priorities, every candidate indicated agreement,” GLAA said in its statement to the Washington Blade in referring to the candidates it rated. “Total consensus on core issues signals that whomever is elected to Council and mayor, we should expect to hold our elected officials accountable to our goals of protecting home rule, resisting federal overreach, advancing transgender healthcare rights, and eliminating chronic homelessness in the District,” the statement says.

“While candidates agree on the basics, they distinguish themselves in the depth and creativity in their responses, and their record on the issues,” according to the statement, which adds that candidates’ full questionnaire responses and ratings can be accessed on the GLAA website, www.glaa.org.

Like past election years, GLAA does not rate candidates running for the D.C. Congressional Delegate seat or the so-called “shadow” U.S. House of Representatives and U.S. Senate seats.

With the exception of one question asking about transgender rights, none of the other nine of the 10 questionnaire questions are LGBTQ-specific. But most of the questions mention that LGBTQ people are impacted by the issues being raised, such as affordable housing, federal government intrusion into D.C. home rule, and access to healthcare and public benefits for low-income residents.

One of the questions asks candidates if they support decriminalization of sex work in D.C. among consenting adults, which GLAA supports. Lewis George is among the candidates who said they do not support sex work decriminalization at this time. The other two mayoral candidates that GLAA rated, Sampath and Johnson, said they support sex work decriminalization.

In the race for D.C. attorney general, GLAA issued a rating for just one of the three candidates running: Republican challenger Manuel Rivera, who received a +4.5 rating. Incumbent Democrat Brian Schwalb and Democratic challenger J.P. Szymkowicz were not rated because they didn’t return the questionnaire.

D.C. Council Chair Phil Mendelson (D), who is running unopposed in the primary, received a +6.5 rating. Ward 6 Councilmember Charles Allen, who is facing three Democratic challengers in the primary and who is a longtime LGBTQ ally, received a +6.5 rating.

In the special election to fill the at-large D.C. Council seat vacated by the resignation of then-Independent Councilmember McDuffie to enable him to run for mayor as a Democrat, GLAA has rated two of the three Independent candidates competing for the seat. Elissa Silverman received a +5.75 rating, and Doni Crawford received a +5.6 rating.

Finally, in the At-Large D.C. Council race GLAA issued ratings for five of the 11 candidates running in the primary, each of whom are Democrats. Oye Owolewa received a +9; Lisa Raymond, +7.5; Dwight Davis, +6.5; Dyana N.M. Forester, +6; and Fred Hill, +6.6.

The full list of GLAA-rated candidates and their detailed questionnaire responses can be accessed at www.glaa.org.

Rehoboth Beach

From the Capitol to the coast: Rep. Sarah McBride shares Rehoboth favorites

As summer kicks off, Congresswoman Sarah McBride shares her favorite Rehoboth spots.

Published

3 hours ago

May 12, 2026

Joe Reberkenny

Rep. Sarah McBride (D-Del.) (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

Each year for the past 19 years, the Washington Blade has kicked off the summer season with a quintessential tradition — a party in Rehoboth Beach. The annual celebration is well known among Blade readers as the unofficial start of summer and beach season. (This year’s event is May 15, 5-7 p.m. at Diego’s featuring remarks from Ashley Biden.)

Two weeks ago, the Blade sat down with Sarah McBride (D-Del.), the first openly transgender person elected to Congress, to discuss her first year in office. While reflecting on key milestones and challenges ahead, she also shared some of her favorite Rehoboth spots and what the beach town means to her.

“I love Rehoboth,” the state’s sole House member told the Blade, beaming from her office in the Longworth House Office Building. “I love Baltimore Avenue, and love going to Aqua and the Pines.”

Both Aqua and the Pines have long served as staples of Rehoboth’s LGBTQ community. From the Saturday night lines stretching down the street off the main drag to the Sunday tea dances, the venues have helped cement Rehoboth as one of the top LGBTQ beach destinations in the United States dating back to at least the 1940s, when LGBTQ federal workers would escape the pressures — and often prying eyes — of Washington for a queer haven along the Delaware coast.

While attitudes and the community itself have evolved over the decades, Rehoboth today can still feel like an extension of D.C. — only with more Speedos and sandy flip-flops. Conversations that begin in Washington about politics and nightlife often continue beachside, shifting from “What’s Bunker’s theme tonight?” to “Who’s DJing at Aqua?”

When asked where she likes to dine in town, McBride highlighted one longtime favorite while also teasing a new addition she’s eager to try.

“Drift Seafood and Raw Bar is one of my favorite restaurants,” she said. “I actually ran into a Rehoboth restaurateur the other day while I was at Longwood Gardens for the tulips — which were beautiful. The restaurateur just opened a new restaurant on the south end of Baltimore Avenue that I’m excited to try. It sounds like an Indian fusion restaurant.”

When asked whether she frequents Poodle Beach — the longtime LGBTQ section of the shoreline — McBride shared that she prefers a quieter stretch of sand a bit farther north of Rehoboth’s gay beach scene.

“I usually go to Deauville, which is just north. It’s right there in between the boardwalk and Gordon’s Pond and North Shores.”

Regardless of where she chooses to unwind from the pressures of Washington and Dover, McBride was clear about how much both Rehoboth and Delaware mean to her.

“I love Rehoboth. I love the restaurants there. This is the professional privilege of my lifetime, getting to represent Delaware.”

“One of the things that I love is seeing how much goodness there is in this state,” she shared. “I represent more people in the House of Representatives than any other representative. Unlike most members who represent exclusively urban, suburban, or rural districts, I represent all three. Delaware demographically looks like America.”

She went on to say that representing a state whose demographics closely mirror the country as a whole gives her hope for the future — something that can at times feel elusive within the often-divisive halls of Congress.

“That means every day that I’m here, and every time Delawareans come to visit me, I get to see the full diversity of this country and this state on display. I get to see the goodness across that diversity, whether it’s diversity of identity or diversity of thought. It makes me even prouder to represent a state that time and time again judges candidates not based on their identities, but based on their ideals.”

She ended with a simple but hopeful message about her state and its people.

“Our politics are too often defined by hate. I’m glad Delaware and Delawareans are showing that a different kind of politics is possible.”

District of Columbia

Anti-LGBTQ violence prevention efforts highlighted at D.C. community fair

Mayor’s Office of LGBTQ Affairs organized May 8 event

Published

23 hours ago

May 11, 2026

Lou Chibbaro Jr.

(Washington Blade photo by Ernesto Valle)

Detailed advice on how LGBTQ people can avoid, defend themselves against, and prevent themselves and loved ones from becoming victims of violence, with a focus on domestic and intimate partner violence, was presented at a May 8 LGBTQIA+ Safety in Numbers Community Fair.

The event, organized by the D.C. Mayor’s Office of LGBTQ Affairs, included five workshop sessions and information tables set up by 14 LGBTQ-supportive organizations and D.C. government agencies or agency divisions, including the D.C. Metropolitan Police Department’s LGBT Liaison Unit and the D.C. LGBTQ+ Community Center.

Also playing a lead role in organizing the event was the D.C. LGBTQIA+ Violence Prevention and Response Team, or VPART, a coalition of D.C. officials and leaders of community-based organizations that work with the Office of LGBTQ Affairs.

The event was held in meeting space in the building where the Office of LGBTQ Affairs is located at 899 N. Capitol St., N.E.

The workshop topics included de-escalation training on healthy relationships, bystander intervention, self-defense training, violence prevention grants, and suicide prevention.

“This will be a public safety and violence prevention event where community partners will educate attendees on various methods of violence intervention and trauma-informed practices,” according to a statement released by the Mayor’s Office of LGBTQ Affairs prior to the start of the event.

The statement adds, “We will have live demos, interactive games, and workshops focused on strategies for self-defense, protecting vulnerable communities, increasing access to mental health resources, providing tools for recognizing domestic violence/intimate partner violence signs in intimate relationships, and assistance for substance abuse.”

Sonya Joseph, associate director of engagement for the Office of LGBTQ Affairs, told the Washington Blade that studies have shown rates of domestic or intimate partner violence are higher in the LGBTQ community than in the community at large.

“Domestic violence and intimate partner violence are two very big prevalent issues in the LGBTQ community,” she said, adding that some of the workshops at the event would be providing “training on healthy relationships and how to recognize and prevent intimate partner violence and the signs of it.”

About 35 to 40 people attended the workshop sessions.

Experts specializing in violence impacting the LGBTQ community have said domestic violence refers to violence among people in domestic relationships that can include spouses but also siblings, parents, cousins, and other relatives. Intimate partner violence, according to the experts, refers to violence perpetuated by a partner in a romantic or dating relationship.

These D.C. based organizations or agencies that participated in the LGBTQIA+ Safety in Numbers event, and which can be contacted for assistance, include:

• Defend Yourself

• DC LGBTQ+ Community Center

• American Foundation for Suicide Prevention

• Joseph’s House

• Us Helping Us, People into Living, Inc.

• MCSR (formerly known as Men Can Stop Rape)

• MPD LGBT Liaison Unit

• Volunteer Legal Advocates

• DC SAFE

• Destination Tomorrow

• D.C. Office of Victims Services and Justice Grants

• Life Enhancement Services