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Welcome home, Matthew Shepard

Safely at rest after 20 years

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Matthew Shepard, gay news, Washington Blade

Matthew Shepard Thanksgiving and Celebration at the National Cathedral. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

The woman biking by thought he was a scarecrow. Lashed to a buck fence outside of Laramie, Wyo., practically crucified, Matthew Shepard was robbed, pistol whipped and left for dead. Clean lines ran down his face where his tears had washed the blood away. Matthew died six days later. That was 20 years ago.

Last Friday morning, the bells of the National Cathedral slowly tolled, and Gene Robinson, the first openly gay bishop in the Episcopal Church, walked Matthew Shepard’s ashes down the nave as a single flute played “Morning Has Broken.” Reaching the altar, he sat Matthew’s ashes down, smoothed out the pall, and gave it a gentle pat — a reassuring touch of comfort, rest, finality — one last thing he could do for him. It was one of the sweetest, saddest things I have ever witnessed.

Some have called Matthew Shepard’s death and the outrage it activated a sort of second Stonewall for LGBT Americans. And while the reasons for that could be seen as a bit troubling to some — Matthew was blonde, white, from a middle-class background, others had suffered as badly with no national media attention — of course none of this was really Matthew’s fault. And all things being equal, I’m sure he’d rather be with us, living his life. Truthfully, Matthew was no Rosa Parks. When mythic, historic status is reached, the real fabric of who a person was can often get lost. Talking to people that actually knew him, I learned that he smoked too much, or at least his mother thought so. He ran up a credit card; he skipped class. But he was also thought of as “gentle,” “shy, but never rude,” And I was told, “we all called him Matt.”

The day before his service at the Cathedral, across town at the Smithsonian, several of Matt’s personal items were being donated by his family. His sandals, a Superman cape from his childhood, a wedding ring Matt bought, in hopes that one day he’d find the one. Matt and I were the same age then. And in many ways, were at the same place in our lives. And like so many gay men in the late ‘90s, we took refuge in ragtag campus gay groups, driving miles to gay bars in other cities. Living out and proud and exploring freely for the first time what our identities could really mean. Laramie was really Anytown, USA, and Dennis and Judy, seeing them there mourning their son, were in many ways any American mom, any dad.

Now Matt is at home, in our National Cathedral, occupying the highest spot in Washington, D.C. It’s more than simply a commanding presence in the city’s skyline, a marker in stone, a marker of history, a place of national mourning, celebration. Matthew’s coming here adds to all that, while also bringing a narrative of security, safety, love and tenderness.

In the south balcony before the service, people turned and greeted one another. Sitting behind me were Joel and Ethan. They were married in the Cathedral just last year. Ethan seemed to sum up what we were all feeling. The service was more like “a coming home” — welcoming Matt with joy to a safe place. Gesturing around him, Ethan went on to say that the “beautiful stone Cathedral represents not only a physical safety, but a spiritual one.” The words safe, or safety, were probably uttered more than two dozen times by the people I spoke with. And in truth, Matt’s parents held on to his ashes for so long out of concern that in any final resting place, Matt would need to be safe. All this time they worried that any gravesite might be vandalized. The Cathedral gave them peace at last. And with hate crimes currently on the rise in America, let the monument that occupies the highest point in the city serve as a constant reminder that higher ideals will eventually win out.

Before Friday’s service, I visited the Cathedral. Dozens of tours, mostly school groups, were flowing through. There I managed to speak with a group of high school students visiting from rural southern Illinois just as they started their tour.

“Do you know who Matthew Shepard is?”

“No. . .sorry,” some responded.

I really can’t fault them. I probably would have got the same answer if I asked who Jimmy Carter was. Stopping another group as they were leaving, this time from St. John’s, Ind., I asked the same question. Four teenage girls stopped and turned to me.

“Oh yeah, we just learned about him.”

I followed up with what they thought of him being interred in the Cathedral; they shifted awkwardly in their matching white shoes, looking at each other, one answered, “well we go to a conservative Christian school back home. . .and. . .” Though she struggled to find her words I was fairly sure what she was trying to tell me. But at least now they’ve heard a different perspective on faith, love and acceptance. Perhaps they gave it some thought on the bus ride home.

Last Friday’s service was more than just a somber or subdued Episcopal ritual. At times, it had the hallmarks of a political rally, and it was in part also a homecoming, and not just for Matt. Gene Robinson began the service, already holding back tears, by speaking directly to all the LGBT congregants, of whatever faith, that had been hurt by their religious communities, “I want to welcome you back.”  He closed his eulogy, saying “there are three things I’d say to Matt: ‘Gently rest in this place. You are safe now. And Matt, welcome home.’ Amen.”

Some 2,000 congregants rose to their feet in sustained applause.

Indeed. Welcome home, Matt.

 

Brock Thompson is a D.C.-based writer who contributes regularly to the Blade.

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Corporate LGBTQ Pride 2026 on life support

A rainbow washout as marketing dollars disappear

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(Photo by insidestudio/Bigstock)

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. 

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Cowardly corporations abandon LGBTQ America

Execs are hiding in the closet this Pride season. Should we ever welcome them back?

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(Photo by Meni Photos/Bigstock)

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].

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Confronting homophobia at school

Queer students should feel comfortable and safe in the classroom

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(Screen capture via DC News Now/YouTube)

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.)

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