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Migrantes LGBTI en Tijuana ‘buscan una oportunidad para vivir’

Miles de personas en la ciudad mexicana deseen entrar los EEUU

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Melani Sofía Rosales Quiñones, una mujer transgénero de la Ciudad de Guatemala, fue golpeada, amenazada y discriminada en su país por el solo hecho de sumir su verdadera identidad de género. (Foto del Washington Blade de Yariel Valdés González)

TIJUANA, México — A Melani Sofía Rosales Quiñones, una mujer transgénero de la Ciudad de Guatemala, la esperaba una banda de homofóbicos a la vuelta de su casa. Era julio de 2017 y al pasar junto a ellos les dijo: Buenas noches y solo eso fue el pretexto para una agresión atroz.

“Me golpearon con bates y palos”, narra ahora Melani. “Me quebraron la mandíbula y el maxilar izquierdo. Estuve tres días sin despertar en el hospital y luego de 15 días me hicieron una cirugía para reconstruirme el rostro. Me pusieron placas y tornillos. Estuve cuatro meses en recuperación”.

Un año antes, las pandillas, que enferman de odio y violencia a medio Latinoamérica, codiciaban su casa como depósito para drogas. Su madre nunca aceptó e interpuso una denuncia por el acoso de las también llamadas “maras”.

“Saliendo de la policía llaman a mi mamá y la amenazan. Le dicen que con ellos no se jugaba y matan a mi hermano menor de 15 años”, ella dice.

Melani cuenta parte de su vida al Washington Blade desde una casa de acogida en el centro de Tijuana, donde momentáneamente amparan a los miembros LGTBI de la caravana migrante, que llegaron a esta ciudad fronteriza unas semanas atrás con el objetivo de solicitar asilo político en los Estados Unidos, una nación en la cual piensan vivir sin temores y con prosperidad económica.

Los migrantes LGTBI, al igual que la caravana, se han dispersado por toda la frontera norte del país. Lo que antes de llegar a México era un grupo compacto, que enfrentaba ofensas y malos tratos de la propia caravana, hoy no son más que pequeñas y débiles fuerzas dispersas en Tijuana, Baja California y Nogales, otro pueblo limítrofe con EEUU, perteneciente al estado de Sonora.

Atravesar este muro y llegar seguros a territorio estadounidense es el deseo de los miles de migrantes varados en Tijuana. Solo buscan una oportunidad de vida en los Estados Unidos. (Foto del Washington Blade de Yariel Valdés González)

Las historias detrás del sueño americano

No es la primera vez que Melani se lanza en dirección norte para tocar suelo estadounidense. En mayo de este año “subió” a Tijuana con otra caravana pero otra agresión le postergó el anhelo. “Me llevé una gran decepción porque oficiales de Tijuana me golpearon cuando me dirigía a la garita de El Chaparral. Luego, fui al hospital y puse una denuncia a los policías en Inmigración”, dice Melani.

Entonces Melani retornó hasta un pueblito entre Guatemala y México, “en territorio ‘nulo’”, dice con la ilusión de que, en algún momento, volvería a caminar hacia su sueño americano. No podía volver a Guatemala, pero tampoco a Tijuana. Por esa época se volvió casi ermitaña. Ella, una chica extrovertida y sociable, vivía alejada de la gente. “Trabajaba en una panadería y de ahí para mi casa. Sin decir alguna palabra, sin saludar”, añade.

Melani huía de una Guatemala donde la violencia se percibe como natural y se manifiesta más aguda contra las comunidades LGBTI. Allí soportan “insultos, sobornos, detenciones arbitrarias y agresiones físicas, que no pocas veces terminan en asesinatos, pero que no se denuncian por temor a las represalias. Las personas LGBTI viven con miedo y no cuentan con redes de apoyo comunitario que les ayuden a enfrentar los escenarios violentos en que habitan”, especifica un diagnóstico sobre la situación de esta comunidad en cuatro países centroamericanos.

Un total de 39 mujeres trans, como Melani, fueron asesinadas de enero a julio de 2017 en Guatemala, según el Observatorio de Personas Trans Asesinadas, ubicando a la nación en el puesto número seis dentro de la lista de países de América Latina y el Caribe con mayores cifras absolutas de personas trans asesinadas.

En Honduras, por otra parte, 40 personas LGTBI han muerto entre 2007 y mayo del presente año, indicó en un comunicado el estatal Comisionado Nacional de los Derechos Humanos en Honduras (Conadeh). Cattrachas, una red lesbiana feminista, indica que 288 personas LGBTI han sido asesinados en Honduras entre 2009 y 2018.

No solo es una situación de inseguridad. Este colectivo en Honduras posee muy bajas posibilidades de empleo. Según reportó Infobae “no existen en el país antecedentes de ninguna persona trans que haya ingresado a un puesto de trabajo en una empresa privada o en una dependencia estatal”.

Amelia Frank-Vitale, antropóloga de la Universidad de Michigan, quien lleva más de un año viviendo en Honduras para estudiar temas de deportación, migración y violencia, confirmó al Blade que “las personas de la comunidad LGBTI están expuestas a todas las formas de violencia que vive cualquier persona en Honduras, que es la mayoría de la población urbana, joven y pobre, pero además están discriminadas, estigmatizadas por su orientación sexual y en muchos casos el Estado está ausente en temas de justicia. Es siempre más crítico para la comunidad LGBTI”.

De esa situación vienen huyendo Alexis Rápalos y Solanyi, dos identidades que habitan un mismo cuerpo robusto de 38 años. En la entrevista con el Blade es Alexis quien habla. Lleva un gorro que cubre una cabeza casi sin pelos y las palabras apenas le salen.

Viene de una familia con bajos recursos y nos ha revelado que, desde los diez años, sufre el flagelo de la discriminación por las calles de su ciudad, San Pedro Sula, la que por cuatro años fue reconocida como la urbe más peligrosa del planeta. De nadie tuvo que despedirse, pues desde que murió su madre hace un año, vive solo.

Sastre y chef de cocina, trabajaba en un restaurante en su país natal, pero decidió sumarse a la caravana en busca de un futuro con más seguridad y una vida sin los sobresaltos de una homofobia generalizada.

Partió sin más que un pantalón y una camisa en su mochila y alcanzó la caravana en la frontera entre Guatemala y México. “Fui descubriendo amigos en la caravana”, refiere Alexis. “Y luego a la comunidad gay. Venimos luchando, peleando muchas cosas porque nos discriminan bastante, nos insultan”.

“El camino ha sido bastante duro”, sostiene Alexis. “A veces nos quedamos dormidos en lugares muy fríos, con tormentas. Yo me enfermé de la gripe con una tos horrible, pero gracias a Dios nos han ayudado con medicinas, con ropa”.

Arribaron a Tijuana pidiendo jalón (auto-stop), a ratos en autobuses y suplicando por la caridad ajena para comer. “Llegamos al albergue que había en la Unidad Deportiva Benito Juárez, pero nosotros estábamos en nuestro grupo aparte. Nos han tratado bien, con ropas, medicinas, comida”, insiste como tratando de agradecer días atenciones recibidas.

Hasta ese albergue, donde las condiciones de insalubridad y hacinamiento eran una constante, los persiguió la homofobia que viaja con algunos de sus coterráneos y los ubica en una posición aún más desfavorable que la del resto. Alexis detalla que eran abucheados en las filas para los alimentos y hubo ocasiones en las que no los dejaron comer. La situación se repetía en las frías duchas a la intemperie, donde la privacidad era un lujo impensable.

Allí, junto a los casi 6.000 centroamericanos que llegaron a aglomerarse en el albergue habilitado por las autoridades de la ciudad, sintió la crudeza del frío de madrugada, durmió en la calle porque no tenía una carpa que lo protegiera y la inusual lluvia de la temporada le humedeció hasta el alma cuando vio empapadas sus pocas pertenencias.

“En el albergue (Benito Juárez) sí pasamos humillaciones, críticas, hasta nos hicieron quitar la bandera gay. Recibimos mucha discriminación, nos dicen que no podemos hacer la misma fila para la comida y para el baño nos dejan de últimos y aquí (Enclave Caracol, nuevo albergue) nos están apoyando demasiado, nos dan nuestro lugar, tenemos baño aparte y todo”, comenta Bairon Paolo González Morera, un gay guatemalteco de 27 años.

Los integrantes de la caravana LGTBI estuvieron a su llegada a Tijuana en la Unidad Deportiva Benito Juárez, un complejo deportivo convertido en albergue. Allí también fueron discriminados por sus coterráneos. Les hicieron quitar la bandera gay. No los querían en las filas para la alimentación y los dejaban de últimos en las duchas públicas. (Foto del Washington Blade de Yariel Valdés González)

Cuenta Bairon que se travestía por las noches y ejercía la prostitución como Kiara Paola, una actividad que le dejó varias cicatrices en su cuerpo. “Yo me dedicaba a trabajar para llevarle comida a mi hermano gemelo y al más pequeño”, dice. “Ahí mi familia se enteró que era gay. Mi madrastra me discriminó y mi papá no me apoyó y hasta hoy día estoy luchando por mi bienestar, a pesar de que me han dado trabones en la espalda y en diferentes partes de mi cuerpo, pero he salido adelante”.

Vivía solo y constantemente era extorsionado, por lo que decidió unirse a la caravana. Cuando los migrantes arribaron a México, ya trabajaba en un restaurante en Tuxpan y no pensó dos veces unirse a la caravana, que en opinión de la experta en migraciones Frank-Vitale es “un movimiento de desobediencia civil contra un régimen global … La caravana es la forma que se ha reconocido que se puede cruzar México sin estar tan expuesto a los grupos criminales, las autoridades corruptas y sin pagar un coyote para buscar una oportunidad de vivir”.

Paolo González Morera, un gay guatemalteco de 27 años, ejercía como trabajador sexual en su país y constantemente era extorsionado y maltratado por su orientación sexual. (Foto del Washington Blade de
Yariel Valdés González)

A la espera del asilo

Una larga fila se ha formado a las afueras del Enclave Caracol, un espacio comunitario ubicado en la calle primera, en el centro de Tijuana, que ha acogido a esta fracción de la caravana LGBTIQ, que llegó semanas después de la primera.

Bajo unas carpas, los propios migrantes se organizan para repartir la comida que ellos mismos han preparado en el interior del edificio, que semanas antes también brindó su espacio para el matrimonio de varias parejas gays.

Nacho, quien prefirió solo presentarse así, es colaborador de Enclave Caracol, y dijo que están apoyando “a la comunidad con la alimentación y agua, el uso de baño, acceso a Internet, uso de teléfonos para que puedan llamar prácticamente a cualquier parte del mundo y en algún momento ha funcionado como albergue”.

En el Enclave Caracol, son los propios migrantes quienes han cocinado y organizado la vida allí. Con las donaciones de la sociedad civil de varias ciudades ha sido posible mantener a las decenas de ellos que
allí se resguardan. (Foto del Washington Blade de Yariel Valdés González)

En los primeros días de auxilio a estos desplazados eran los trabajadores del lugar quienes cocinaban gran parte de los alimentos y garantizaban la limpieza. Pero, dice “poco a poco se han ido involucrando personas de la caravana. Actualmente ninguna persona del Enclave ha estado en la cocina. Estas últimas semanas hemos recibido donaciones y también hemos ido a los mercados por la merma y la limpiamos, la procesamos y se cocina. Ellos mismos están organizando la limpia y entrega de la comida”.

Nacho declaró que varias personas de la sociedad civil de Los Ángeles, San Diego y de la propia ciudad de Tijuana aportan dinero, comida, voluntariado, productos de limpieza, platos y vasos desechables para aliviar la tensa situación que se vive ahora mismo por la llegada de miles de migrantes a esta urbe fronteriza, muchos de los cuales no han iniciado su proceso de asilo político.

Y es que, al decir de la académica Frank-Vitale, este proceso se ha puesto intencionalmente difícil en EEUU. “Hay una lista muy larga de personas que solicitan el asilo, que se han entregado en la garita y buscan seguir el proceso correcto, bajo la ley internacional”, dice. “Se ha dicho que van a tener que esperar hasta dos meses para tener la oportunidad de hablar de su caso, y eso para personas vulnerables, que huyen de una persecución, que viven bajo la lluvia, el frío, a la intemperie todo ese tiempo, la verdad es una crisis humanitaria fatal”.

“A veces uno se desespera porque no hay un lugar estable. Nos vamos de aquí para allá. Dicen que hoy nos van a llevar para otra casa para esperar a los abogados que nos van a ayudar con los papeles”, dice esperanzado Alexis.

Sin embargo, Melani es más realista al comentar sobre su petición de asilo: “La situación de nosotros está un poco difícil porque siguen llegando muchas personas. Donald Trump cerró la frontera y el trámite está muy complicado. Por eso las personas van a la frontera a meter presión”.

Frank-Vitale considera que el actual sistema de asilo debe cambiar para reconocer las formas modernas de violencia y persecución a las que se ven expuestas las personas y en especial los grupos LGTBI. “Tomando todo eso en cuenta, sí es posible. Hay casos de Centroamérica que entran perfectamente en el sistema, siempre y cuando tengan realmente el temor por sus vidas en sus países y mucha gente tiene un miedo muy verdadero”.

Ese temor, que ha colmado gran parte de la vida de Melani, la acompañará, incluso, en territorio norteamericano, pues en “la caravana anterior había una chica que se llamaba Roxsana, quien murió porque tenía VIH, pero la autopsia reveló que había sido agredida por los oficiales del Servicio de Inmigración y Control de Aduanas (ICE) de Estados Unidos”.

La primera autopsia realizada en Hernández, una mujer trans hondureña con VIH que murió bajo custodia de ICE en Nuevo México el 25 de mayo, menciona la causa de muerte como un paro cardíaco. La segunda autopsia a la que se refirió Melani muestra que Hernández fue golpeada, pero no identifica las personas que la atacaron mientras estaba bajo custodia.

La autopsia original realizada en Hernández, una mujer trans hondureña con VIH que murió bajo custodia de ICE en Nuevo México el 25 de mayo, menciona la causa de la muerte como un paro cardíaco. La segunda autopsia a la que se refirió Melani muestra que Hernández fue golpeado, pero no identifica quién la atacó mientras estaba bajo custodia.

El tema ha llegado hasta el Senado estadounidense, pues tres senadores invitaron recientemente al Servicio de Aduanas e Inmigración y Aduanas y Protección de Fronteras de EEUU a entregar documentos relacionados con el caso de Roxsana, una mujer trans hondureña con VIH que murió bajo su custodia el año pasado.

Pese a todas estas situaciones, pese a un presidente xenófobo que comanda al otro lado, pese a un poderoso ejército atrincherado en la frontera, pese a las largas filas para ser escuchados, pese a la incertidumbre constante, Bairon se mantiene firme en su decisión: “Ya estamos acá. Con tanto trabajo que nos costó, yo no regreso”.

Ya sabemos por qué.

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Congress

Ritchie Torres says he is unlikely to run for NY governor

One poll showed gay Democratic congressman nearly tied with Kathy Hochul

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U.S. Rep. Ritchie Torres (D-N.Y.) (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

Gay Democratic Congressman Ritchie Torres of New York is unlikely to challenge New York Gov. Kathy Hochul (D) in the state’s next gubernatorial race, he said during an appearance Wednesday on MSNBC’s “Morning Joe.”

“I’m unlikely to run for governor,” he said. ““I feel like the assault that we’ve seen on the social safety net in the Bronx is so unprecedented. It’s so overwhelming that I’m going to keep my focus on Washington, D.C.”

Torres and Hochul were nearly tied in a poll this spring of likely Democratic voters in New York City, fueling speculation that the congressman might run. A Siena College poll, however, found Hochul leading with a wider margin.

Back in D.C., the congressman and his colleagues are unified in their opposition to President Donald Trump’s signature legislation, the “Big Beautiful Bill,” which heads back to the House after passing the Senate by one vote this week.

To pay for tax cuts that disproportionately advantage the ultra-wealthy and large corporations, the president and Congressional Republicans have proposed massive cuts to Medicaid and other social programs.

A provision in the Senate version of the bill that would have blocked the use of federal funds to reimburse medical care for transgender youth was blocked by the Senate Parliamentarian and ultimately struck from the legislation, reportedly after pressure from transgender U.S. Rep. Sarah McBride (D-Del.) and lesbian U.S. Sen. Tammy Baldwin (D-Wis.).

Torres on “Morning Joe” said, “The so-called Big Beautiful Bill represents a betrayal of the working people of America and nowhere more so than in the Bronx,” adding, “It’s going to destabilize every health care provider, every hospital.”

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District of Columbia

GenOUT Chorus offers solace, strength to LGBTQ teens

Summer camp held from June 23-27

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Clockwise from upper left: members of GenOUT Chorus tour WAMU 88.5 with morning host Esther Ciammachilli; members of the Chorus tour NBC4; members of the chorus at Clarendon United Methodist Church for an end-of-camp concert on on June 27; producer Rick Yarborough with members of the Chorus at NBC4. (Photos courtesy the Chorus)

As Pride month draws to a close and Washington begins to take down its rainbow flags and WorldPride decorations, it can be easy to confine the ideas of LGBTQ liberation to June. One historic organization in Washington has been speaking out — or singing out if you will — to ensure that LGBTQ youth are allowed to explore and be themselves every month of the year. 

The Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington is one of the oldest and largest LGBTQ choruses in the world. With more than 300 members and more than 40 years in the D.C. LGBTQ community, to say it is an institution would be an understatement.

Beginning in 1981, following an inspiring performance by the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus at the Kennedy Center, a group of 18 gay men — led by a “straight” woman and friend of Washington’s gay community, Marsha Pearson — created the GMCW. Since its establishment the organization has only grown in number and relevance within the city. From hosting multiple concerts a year, international equality trips, and creating a dedicated space to “inspire equality and inclusion with musical performances and education,” the GMCW is one of the cornerstone organizations in the Washington LGBTQ community.

One of the most remarkable parts of the GMCW is its youth outreach program and choir: GenOUT. The outreach ensemble specializes in providing a space for Washington’s LGBTQ and allied youth, ages 13-18, to find their voice through song and connect that voice to community. The GenOUT program has been around since 2001, and since 2015 has provided a platform for their voices to be heard — literally — making it the first LGBTQ youth chorus in the Washington area.

The Washington Blade sat down with GenOUT Director C. Paul Heins and member Ailsa Ostovitz to discuss why GenOUT, and more specifically the GenOUT summer camp, which was held from June 23-27, has become an essential space for LGBTQ youth in the D.C. area to find their voice amid less-than-supportive administration and rising anti-LGBTQ rhetoric in the nation. 

“This is my 11th season with GenOUT, and also the 11th season with Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington,” Heins said when explaining how he ended up in the director role for the self-selected, no audition required youth outreach ensemble. “I was hired in August of 2014 to start GenOUT. I spent that first fall researching other choruses, figuring out the infrastructure, promoting the chorus, and building relationships with schools, organizations, and faith communities. And then we started in January of 2015 with nine brave singers and since then, we’ve had 150+ singers from 80 or more schools in the DMV participate.”

Ailsa Ostovitz, on the other hand, being in high school had not had as much experience with choirs — yet her commitment and unwavering passion for the work she — and the other performers within GenOUT provide to each other was unmistakable.  

“I’ve been a part of the course since April of 2022, and that was like seventh grade— which is wild to think about,” Ostovitz said when reflecting on how long she had been a part of GenOUT. She explained how she had begun to develop a drive for filling leadership roles within GenOUT after gaining valuable experiences and education from the organization. 

“This is my first year in leadership,” she added. “The rest of the years, I kind of hung back. I really wanted to — especially last season — kind of put myself in the position of a peer and think ‘What would I want from people that are supposed to represent me to the adults? What would I want out of that?’”

And with those questions in mind, Ostovitz explained she buckled down and worked hard to get to where she is now as a member of the leadership team within the GenOUT choir. 

“I spent a lot of time working with my section leader, and, looking up at him and being like, ‘What are you doing now that I can do in the future?’ And so this year, I ran for leadership,” Ostovitz said. “I got section leader, and that was cool. I’ve just spent a lot of time — most of my time in this course — learning leadership skills to kind of help me in all sorts of things in life, because I like to take control of things, and I like doing stuff.”

These leadership skills are just a handful of the things that students like Ostovitz learn while participating in the program. This year’s theme was “Make Them Hear Us!: Empowering LGBTQ+ and Allied Youth Through Music, Media, and Community,” and provided multiple opportunities for GenOUT’s members to engage with new concepts, ideas, and experiences. 

From field trips to mentoring opportunities to an end-of-camp performance, it becomes clear when speaking to those familiar with the GenOUT experience: it is not your traditional summer day camp. 

“The title of the camp references the anthem that GMCW has sung for many years,” Heins said. “‘Make Them Hear You’ from the musical ‘Ragtime’ encourages us to share important stories — stories that honor the fights that we’ve been fighting, the rights that we have won, affirmations that we seek for every human being, and the focus on media — specifically developing young people’s understandings of the kinds of media that they can access and use to share their voice.” 

The camp offers singing and dancing lessons, creative writing exercises, LGBTQ+ history lessons, and open discussions about identity — providing an outlet for students to figure out who they want to be and find their voice.

“What this camp does, I believe, is it helps foster young people’s voices and not only encourages them to speak, but to give them the skills to speak in a way that will be heard meaningfully,” Heins added. “I have noted that youth in queer choruses like GenOUT have said that singing in a chorus allows young people to express themselves more honestly and with greater passion than other forms of expression. They’ve also said that singing with others that understand you on a very deep, profound level, makes the expression much easier and more beautiful. I think that experience is what really makes this a special opportunity for young, LGBTQ and allied people.” 

Ostovitz echoed Heins’s sentiment, emphasizing that the space GenOUT provides allows her to feel empowered in ways more than by creating leadership skills that will help her later in life. GenOUT has allowed for her to see the humanity and similarities LGBTQ youth all face in a straight world. 

“Joining the chorus and being in this camp, it really gives people a chance to see that every person is going through the same experience you are, on a level of finding your own identity and being confident in that,” Ostovitz said. “It really, really serves a purpose by showing there are still queer people. They’re not fizzling out — young people are queer. We want to use our voices to express what we feel and how things are affecting us, and I think that using music to do that is probably one of the most powerful ways to do that.” 

In addition to allowing for internal growth and honing their singing abilities, both Ostovitz and Heins pointed out the other valuable skills students learn while in the GenOUT program. Ostovitz explicitly highlighted the mentorship program GenOUT has with GMCW, and how it has helped students like her figure out their future. 

“Because we are so connected with GMCW, we run a mentorship program where, if you want to explore career, identity, whatever, we can connect you with somebody from GMCW,” Ostovitz said. “You get to spend a whole semester with a person working on your voice or your career or your what you want to do in higher education. It’s not only for things related to your queer identity, but it’s also just for life. It’s really cool.”

GenOUT Chorus performs in ‘Passports’ at Lincoln Theatre in March. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

This year’s theme, centering around media and the many ways people can share their voice, was highlighted through the camp’s field trips to two legacy media organizations — WAMU and NBC Washington — and a discussion with staff from the Washington Blade, including Publisher Lynne Brown and International News Editor Michael K. Lavers.

“GenOUT provides a chance to get to know people from all around this area, but it also connects you to older folks, It connects you to people from the past, as well as we learn about LGBTQ history,” Heins said. “I think a camp specific thing is we want young people to understand how they can share their stories beyond just talking to their friends. There are these forms of media that are out there to share your stories, to have your voices heard, and to have a sense that these media are there for everyone. It’s not just a thing for people aged 21 and over. That was something that Lynne and Michael from the Blade were sharing with; that anyone can write in a letter to the editor. It doesn’t mean it’s going to be published, but that anyone has that opportunity. And I think that’s a great way for them to say the Blade is open to you to share your voice.” 

The concept that there are people who want to, or may need to hear queer voices represented is one that is not lost on Ostovitz.

“There is something Thea says that has kind of integrated into our chorus — that someone out there needed to hear you, needed to hear your voice, needed to hear your story,” Ostovitz said. “That’s something that I kind of live by in this chorus, where I’m like, ‘I believe that there is someone out there that needed to hear this song for whatever reason, whatever it did for them. And I’m hoping to learn how much more can this chorus do for not just our little community, but how much more can it do around the world or the country — especially now.”

Living in the political center of the U.S., Ostovitz explained, has impacted how she approaches her identity, her education, and the urgency of using her voice — both as a student and as a young queer person navigating an increasingly hostile national climate. 

“Being so close to the political center of the country and also a student at the same time has not been the easiest thing in the world as of late,” she said. “You’re thinking a lot about ‘Oh, I wonder if this program in my school will still exist next year,’ because a lot of the funding for physics and science programs in general has been cut. So I’m fortunate enough that Maryland has been pretty good about going against this administration. And so being in this chorus gives me a second to step back from my academics and just go somewhere for the two hours of rehearsal.” 

For Ostovitz, just having those two short hours a week to focus on music — without thinking about the political climate that paints her and her choir peers as nefarious for being LGBTQ — provides solace.

“Everybody else is going through the same thing as I am, but we’re all also working towards the same goal, which is acceptance and uplifting of everybody and everyone — no matter who they are,” she said. “It kind of settles you down and grounds you. And then you just make music with people, and it’s really like a stress reducer for me.”

“Is it too trite to say that that would make people feel less alone, knowing that it’s not just a DMV thing, but that there are queer people all over?” Heins asked Ostovitz.

“No, it’s not — for sure,” Ostovitz responded. “It was a bit eye-opening.”

“A lot of us are fortunate enough to have families that support us enough to trust us and help us be passionate and mean what we do with the work that we do in this chorus — because it is optional,” Ostovitz added. “It is optional to have the courage that we have to practice and commit as much as we do, and the fact that we have a whole organization backing us on that is pretty cool.” 

“We often say that we sing for those who can’t sing in a chorus like ours,” Heins said. “We sing for people who don’t have the freedom or the option to live their authentic lives. I think that’s very powerful.” 

“It’s a very unique experience to be surrounded by so many people that get it,” Ostovitz said. “It’s a very joyful experience when we perform our big shows at the Lincoln Theater, being part of that production is also a very unique experience. So I think everything about this chorus is very joyfully unique.” 

“I feel very proud, and I feel very inspired,” Heins said. “I feel inspired by the young voices. I feel a sense of inspiration in my own music-making, when I am able to take a piece from its very beginning all the way to the stage in a polished form. And I feel that sense of pride in knowing that I’ve helped this group of young people develop their confidence to do really amazing things.” 

“GenOUT sang 22 times last year, which for any chorus is a big deal, but for a youth chorus coming from thither and yon, it is really a big deal,” Heins added. “I’m just really inspired and proud, and know that when I am in a nursing home somewhere and these folks are still out working and I know the country will be in good hands.”

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Federal Government

UPenn erases Lia Thomas’s records as part of settlement with White House

University agreed to ban trans women from women’s sports teams

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U.S. Education Secretary Linda McMahon (Screen capture: C-SPAN)

In a settlement with the Trump-Vance administration announced on Tuesday, the University of Pennsylvania will ban transgender athletes from competing and erase swimming records set by transgender former student Lia Thomas.

The U.S. Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights found the university in violation of Title IX, the federal rights law barring sex based discrimination in educational institutions, by “permitting males to compete in women’s intercollegiate athletics and to occupy women-only intimate facilities.”

The statement issued by University of Pennsylvania President J. Larry Jameson highlighted how the law’s interpretation was changed substantially under President Donald Trump’s second term.

“The Department of Education OCR investigated the participation of one transgender athlete on the women’s swimming team three years ago, during the 2021-2022 swim season,” he wrote. “At that time, Penn was in compliance with NCAA eligibility rules and Title IX as then interpreted.”

Jameson continued, “Penn has always followed — and continues to follow — Title IX and the applicable policy of the NCAA regarding transgender athletes. NCAA eligibility rules changed in February 2025 with Executive Orders 14168 and 14201 and Penn will continue to adhere to these new rules.”

Writing that “we acknowledge that some student-athletes were disadvantaged by these rules” in place while Thomas was allowed to compete, the university president added, “We recognize this and will apologize to those who experienced a competitive disadvantage or experienced anxiety because of the policies in effect at the time.”

“Today’s resolution agreement with UPenn is yet another example of the Trump effect in action,” Education Secretary Linda McMahon said in a statement. “Thanks to the leadership of President Trump, UPenn has agreed both to apologize for its past Title IX violations and to ensure that women’s sports are protected at the university for future generations of female athletes.”

Under former President Joe Biden, the department’s Office of Civil Rights sought to protect against anti-LGBTQ discrimination in education, bringing investigations and enforcement actions in cases where school officials might, for example, require trans students to use restrooms and facilities consistent with their birth sex or fail to respond to peer harassment over their gender identity.

Much of the legal reasoning behind the Biden-Harris administration’s positions extended from the 2020 U.S. Supreme Court case Bostock v. Clayton County, which found that sex-based discrimination includes that which is based on sexual orientation or gender identity under Title VII rules covering employment practices.

The Trump-Vance administration last week put the state of California on notice that its trans athlete policies were, or once were, in violation of Title IX, which comes amid the ongoing battle with Maine over the same issue.

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