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].
District of Columbia
D.C. Council member honored by LGBTQ homeless youth group
Doni Crawford receives inaugural Wanda Alston Legacy Award
About 100 people turned out Tuesday evening, April 7, for a presentation by D.C.’s Wanda Alston Foundation of its inaugural Wanda Alston Legacy Award to D.C. Council member Doni Crawford (I-At-Large) for her support for the foundation’s mission to support homeless LGBTQ youth.
Among those who attended the event was Japer Bowles, director of D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser’s Office of LGBTQ Affairs, who delivered an official proclamation issued by Bowser declaring April 7, 2026 “A Day of Remembrance for Wanda Alston.”
Alston, a beloved women’s and LGBTQ rights activist, served as the city’s first director of the then newly created Office of LGBTQ Affairs under then-Mayor Anthony Williams from 2004 until her death by murder on March 16, 2005.
To the shock and dismay of fellow LGBTQ rights advocates, police and court records reported Alston, 45, was stabbed to death inside her Northeast D.C. house by a man high on crack cocaine who lived nearby and who stole her credit cards and car. The perpetrator, William Martin Parrott, 38, was arrested by D.C. police the next day and later pleaded guilty to second-degree murder. He was sentenced in July 2005 to 24 years in prison.
Crawford was among those attending the award event who reflected on Alston’s legacy and outspoken advocacy for LGBTQ and feminist causes.
“I am deeply humbled and honored to receive this inaugural award,” Crawford told the Washington Blade at the conclusion of the event. “I think the world of Wanda Alston. She has set such a great foundation for me and other Council members to build on,” she said.
“Her focus on inclusivity and intersectionality is really important as we approach this work,” Crawford added. “And it’s going to guide my work at the Council every day.”
Crawford was appointed to the D.C. Council in January of this year to replace then Council member Kenyan McDuffie (I-At-Large), who resigned to run for D.C. mayor as a Democrat. She is being challenged by four other independent candidates in a June 16 special election for the Council seat.
Under the city’s Home Rule Charter written and approved by Congress, the seat is one of two D.C. Council at-large seats that cannot be held by a “majority party” candidate, meaning a Democrat.
A statement released by the Alston Foundation last month announcing Crawford’s selection for the Wanda Alston Legacy Award praised Crawford’s record of support for its work on behalf of LGBTQ youth.
“From behind the scenes to now serving as an At-Large Council member, she has fought fearlessly for affordable housing, LGBTQ+ funding priorities, and racial justice,” the statement says. “Council member Crawford’s leadership reflects the same courage and conviction that defined Wanda’s legacy.”
Organizers of the event noted that it was held on what would have been Wanda Alston’s 67th birthday.
“Today’s legacy reception was a smashing success,” said Cesar Toledo, the Alston Foundation’s executive director. “Not only did we come together to celebrate Wanda Alston on her birthday, but we also were able to raise over $10,000 for our homeless LGBTQ youth here in D.C.,” Toledo told the Blade.
“In addition to that, we celebrated and we acknowledged a rising star in our community,” he said. “And that is At-Large Council member Doni Crawford, who we named the inaugural Wanda Alston Legacy Award recipient.”
At the request of D.C. Council Chair Phil Mendelson (D-At-Large) the Council voted unanimously on Jan. 20, 2026, to appoint Crawford to the Council seat being vacated by McDuffie.
Council records show she joined McDuffie’s Council staff in 2022 as a policy adviser and later became his legislative director before McDuffie appointed her as staff director for the Council’s Committee on Business and Economic Development for which McDuffie served as chair.
District of Columbia
Police mental health struggles gain growing attention
‘My body begins to manifest physically, through depression, stress’
When Scott Silverii began his career as a police officer, he faced daily exposure to traumatic incidents with little guidance or support, particularly in distressed neighborhoods where officers were expected to respond decisively under pressure.
“When I started, the only thing they offered was to suck it up and get over it,” Silverii said. “Any indication that you were hurt meant that you were weak, and if you were weak, it meant you could not be trusted.”
Years later, when Silverii became a police chief, he chose a different approach. Rather than reinforcing silence around trauma, he made mental health support a visible part of his leadership.
“In every critical incident that we had, I would bring the critical incident stress debriefing team in — and I would participate in it,” Silverii said. “I wanted to promote it from the top. That’s what it’s going to continue to take to change the culture.”
Silverii’s experience reflects a broader reality in law enforcement. Across the country, police officers face ongoing mental health challenges linked to repeated exposure to violent crime scenes, fatal accidents, and human suffering — experiences that most civilians never encounter. Long shifts and the responsibility of protecting the public have long been documented to further intensify emotional strain, particularly when officers fear making mistakes with serious consequences.
Silverii, former Thibodaux, La., chief of police and current National Law Enforcement Initiative Manager at Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD), said coping mechanisms in the past were often unhealthy.
“A lot of officers, they would drink — sometimes prescription drug use, just different ways,” of coping, he said. Today, he said, the trauma can linger long after an incident: “…you become affected by the trauma. It doesn’t have to happen to you. But when officers respond to a crash, you’re involved… You carry this trauma.”
In some cases, he says, the impact resurfaces every year. “My body begins to manifest physically, through depression, through stress… once I realize it’s the anniversary, I can start dealing with it,” he said.
For decades, police culture discouraged officers from seeking mental health support, often treating emotional distress as a weakness rather than an occupational hazard. In recent years, however, departments have begun expanding access to counseling, peer-support programs, and crisis-intervention training.
In Baltimore, a shift in police culture is tackling the long-standing “shrug it off” mentality toward officer mental health. The Baltimore Police Department’s Officer Safety and Wellness Section, started in 2018, changed how the agency handles trauma, depression, and substance abuse by treating these issues as medical needs rather than disciplinary failures.
A core component of the program is its confidential alcohol addiction treatment, which has seen more than 250 officers voluntarily sign themselves in without fear of termination. This proactive approach has led to a dramatic drop in internal interventions — falling from 250 in 2018 to 48 in 2024 — alongside a decrease in citizen complaints and use-of-force incidents.
The need for such programs is underscored by national data from the Police1 2024 State of the Industry report, which found that 76% of officers cite a lack of time due to heavy workloads as the primary barrier to maintaining their health. More than 50% of respondents report that a significant stigma still surrounds seeking mental health services. Perhaps most telling — 12% of officers nationwide report having no access to mental health resources at all, and 33% have considered calling themselves out of service due to emotional distress or exhaustion.
Chris Asplen, executive director of the National Criminal Justice Association, is a former Washington prosecutor who handled child abuse and other high-stakes cases. He said the emotional weight of the work eventually led him to step away after becoming a parent.
“It became too mentally and emotionally difficult after I had my own child,” Asplen said.
Asplen said his understanding of trauma was also shaped in part by his upbringing. Raised by a parent who struggled with mental illness, he described growing up feeling overlooked. “My father’s mental health issues made me essentially invisible to him,” he said — an experience that later informed how he approached victims in the justice system.
Asplen also pointed to disparities in how mental health crises are handled. His family’s middle-class background, he said, afforded protections and support not available to many others. “Mental health issues for people who are not white and middle class are often treated as criminal matters,” he said.
Experts warn that when mental health challenges go unaddressed, they can affect officers’ judgment, job performance, and interactions with the public. In response, lawmakers and communities have begun exploring preventive approaches. In 2023, Congress passed the De-escalation Act, providing funding for training focused on crisis response, de-escalation, and officer wellness.
In addition to legislative efforts, some communities are turning to violence intervention programs aimed at reducing harm before police are required to respond. One such organization, Roca, was founded in Massachusetts in 1988 and has operated in Baltimore since 2018. According to the organization’s impact data, 87% of its participants have had no new incarcerations after entering the program for at least 24 months.
Police officers in Baltimore and several other cities have been trained by Roca’s nonprofit coaching arm, the Roca Impact Institute, to use cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) to regulate their emotions and understand the impact of trauma on officers and community members. The training reduced stress, loss of temper and use of force incidents, according to the institute.
A 2024 report by the D.C. Office of the Attorney General showed the city’s violence intervention program’s efforts contributed to an 18% decrease in shootings and a 26% decrease in gun homicides across its target neighborhoods in 2023. Based on the national Cure Violence Global model, the programs treat violence as a public health epidemic through the use of what it calls “credible messengers” to de-escalate conflicts.
But a Washington Post investigation published Feb. 3 found excessive spending that City Administrator Kevin Donahue called a “completely inappropriate use of public money.” A week later, the publication reported that two DC violence interrupters were charged with murder in the death of a Baltimore man in a DC nightclub in 2023.
When done correctly, these programs can offer a secondary benefit by reducing the volume of high-stress calls handled by law enforcement. Advocates say such approaches can lessen the emotional toll on officers by preventing traumatic encounters altogether.
“If we can reduce the amount of trauma that occurs at the scene,” Asplen said, “then we’re a lot further along.”
(Carl Barbett is a senior at Bard High School Early College DC, one of Youthcast Media Group’s journalism class partners. This story was produced under the mentorship of Edith Mwangi, a Kenyan multimedia journalist based in D.C. with a background in international reporting and politics.)
District of Columbia
Key lifestyle changes can help patients cope with diabetes
Small daily choices make a big difference in one’s health
One Tuesday evening after my family finished dinner, I noticed my grandmother sitting on the couch, sweating more than usual. The family room wasn’t hot, and she hadn’t eaten a lot of salty food that day, so seeing her like that made me worry.
My grandmother, Shirley Mitchell, is a 72-year-old who lives with Type 2 diabetes, and moments like this, when her blood sugar gets dangerously low, can happen without warning. Watching her reach for her glucose tablets reminded me how serious her condition is.
Each day, millions of people living with diabetes face a choice that can either play a role in protecting their health or putting it at risk– namely, what they eat. Nationally, 12 percent of the population lives with diabetes, according to the Centers for Disease Control. In D.C., nine percent of residents are known to have diabetes, with likely many more undiagnosed, said Dr. Marcy Oppenheimer, a family medicine doctor who practices in Northeast D.C.
“It’s super common, especially as you get older,” she said, estimating that 15 to 20 percent of her patients have diabetes, and another 20 percent have pre-diabetes, where blood sugar is higher than normal but not yet at the level to trigger a diabetes diagnosis.
What is diabetes?
Diabetes is a long-term condition that affects how the body controls blood sugar. When blood sugar levels are not managed properly, they can rise too high and cause serious damage to the body. This happens when the body does not make enough insulin or cannot use insulin correctly, which means sugar stays in the blood instead of being moved into the body’s cells where it’s needed for energy.
Having high levels of sugar in the blood over long periods of time causes damage to just about every body system, said Oppenheimer. “It can pretty much cause any part of your body to start failing over the long term, if you have high sugar for a long time.”
While food isn’t the only factor that affects diabetes — genetics play an even bigger role — certain foods can worsen diabetes by spiking the amount of sugar in the blood.
What foods should you eat if you have diabetes?
Healthy food choices play a major role in helping people with diabetes manage their condition. Foods such as vegetables, whole grains, lean proteins like fish and chicken, beans, nuts, and healthy fats digest slowly and provide steady energy. These foods help prevent sudden spikes in blood sugar, which are dangerous for people with diabetes.
Many people with diabetes learn that planning meals, watching portion sizes, and choosing healthier options can make a big difference in how they feel each day.
“I had to slow down and pay attention to what I ate because everything affected my sugar levels,” says Mitchell.
Even small choices, like drinking a lot of soda or eating too much white bread, can cause blood sugar levels to rise quickly, said Oppenheimer.
Which foods can increase the risk or harm of diabetes?
Unhealthy food choices like these can seriously harm those with diabetes. Sugary foods such as candies, cake, cookies, and sweetened drinks cause blood sugar to spike quickly. Processed foods, white bread, and fast food are also harmful because they can be high in unhealthy saturated fats and refined carbohydrates.
When these foods are eaten often, they can lead to weight gain and they make diabetes harder to control and increase the risk of long-term health problems, said Oppenheimer.
Over time, poor eating habits that lead to prolonged high blood sugar can lead to heart disease, nerve damage, kidney problems, and even vision loss.
“Basically, diabetes is an all-body condition or disease, and it just varies from person to person in how it affects you,” said Oppenheimer. “If you have uncontrolled diabetes, it definitely has a negative impact on both your daily life and your long-term health.”
Anyone with diabetes can develop serious complications like blindness — or diabetic retinopathy — and the risk factors are higher for Black, Latino and American Indian or Alaska Native groups, according to the CDC.
What you or a loved one can do to manage diabetes
Mitchell warns others not to ignore the impact of food on their health. “Don’t ignore your health,” she says. “Fix your problems early before they get worse.”
Making lifestyle changes is key because, after all, diabetes changes your entire lifestyle, says Mitchell. “Walking throughout the day has helped me feel better.”
Daniel Dow, a middle school coach at Friendship Blow Pierce Elementary & Middle School in Northeast D.C. who also has diabetes agreed with Mitchell.
“Don’t wait to change your habits, start right away,” he says. “I learned that what I eat before practice affects my sugar for the whole day.”
Mitchell’s and Dow’s experiences show that small daily choices can make a big difference in one’s health. By paying attention to what you eat and how your body responds, you can prevent problems before they get worse. Starting healthy habits early can help you stay strong, focused, and in control of your well-being.
(This article was written by a student in the journalism program at Bard High School Early College DC. 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.)
