Opinions
Building LGBTQ power beyond American dependency
Unity, an international political body, and economic sovereignty are key to reclaiming our future
Two weeks ago, I mentioned “LGBTQ + sovereignty” in this newsletter, the pursuit of self-determined, economically empowered, and politically independent queer communities that control their narratives, resources, and futures as a response to the new world order. A reader cheekily replied, “So your next installment will discuss how to build that power?” implying that it is easier said than done.
It’s a fair criticism. The amplitude and pace of the changes we experience make it easier to fall in love with the problem than to articulate the first steps in a response. Across the board, the people I speak with are overwhelmed and directionless. There’s a shared sense of paralysis as if the path forward for queer liberation has vanished entirely.
Our movement had placed its bets on a single horse: American support reliant on repeated electoral victories by the Democrats. We have become quickly addicted to funding from USAID, the State Department, other U.S.-dominated international organizations, diplomatic initiatives, and leadership from American companies. Recent reports describe how the reversal of this support is debilitating for our entire movement but also illustrate in their recommendations how hard it is to imagine an LGBTQ+ future without the U.S. government and corporations.
A figure I love to quote is that, according to MAP, the number of donors giving more than $25,000 to the most significant U.S. non-profit organizations dropped from an already bafflingly low 302 in 2019 to 134 in 2023 — a 56 percent decrease over five years, reflecting the disengagement of wealthy LGBTQ+ Americans.
One less-documented aspect of the new emerging world order is the consequences of our reliance on U.S. cultural imperialism. While the United States championed values that inspired movements for dignity and equality worldwide, LGBTQ+ people could envision a domino effect. A completely new American ethos, one that aligns with illiberal nations like Russia and China, could embolden the anti-LGBTQ+ movement everywhere.
Planning for the future is generally a painful exercise. It becomes even more challenging when it is not the one we worked towards. Our community has a strong preference for the present, too. This stems from a long-standing inability to envision a happy ending for our movement and personal lives. Long-term planning is not our forte.
Another obstacle is that the leaders articulating the response to the new world order are the ones who bet everything on a losing hand — those who linked our movement to a single political party as if our fight could be outsourced to straight American politicians and corporations. They also often are personally too deep in bed with the Democrats and corporations to envision an alternative strategy. They cling to the illusion that the subsequent Democratic victory will rescue us. And, as LGBTQ+ people increasingly struggle to find dignity and economic opportunities, they continue rearranging chairs at donor galas.
I wrote about how our long-term goals diverged from those of the Democratic Party two years ago in a piece titled “The Return of Vintage Homophobia Calls for Vintage Queer Tactics”: “Progressive politicians have a vested interest in making sure conservatives remain the villains in the fight for LGBTQ+ equality.”
The LGBTQ+ response to a changing world cannot rely solely on the U.S. midterm elections and success in U.S. courts. Many of the changes I described are irreversible: America has lost legitimacy on LGBTQ+ issues, and international economic development is no longer a global priority. Frankly, there is also a good chance that Democrats will become wobbly on LGBTQ+ issues as the campaign to vilify LGBTQ+ people gains momentum.
If the future evolves further into a world where “might make right,” where economic interests override human dignity, where philanthropy and economic development are abandoned, where strict norms of masculinity and the nuclear family make a comeback, and where authoritarian regimes set the terms — where do LGBTQ+ people stand?
In the past few weeks, I have thought about some first steps to regain control of our future:
— Rebuilding unity. In the last year, I have had many versions of a recent conversation with a prominent investor — someone whose track record includes backing some of the most iconic tech founders of our time — who argued that LGBTQ+ people are not “a people,” that we owe nothing to each other, and that we share little beyond sexual practice and loosely defined identities. It was a sobering reminder of how far we’ve drifted from the fierce solidarity that once defined our movement. Larry Kramer must be spinning in his grave. Many of our community’s most economically successful members share that view — intellectually confident yet oblivious to the sacrifices of our elders and our shared destiny. We must recreate a sense of shared destiny. We concede the foundation of collective liberation if we accept that we are just a scattered demographic and not a people bound by struggle, history, and shared hope.
— Establish a truly representative international body. I’d argue for an organized, democratic assembly where every LGBTQ+ person — who has paid modest dues — has a voice and a vote. This body would unite elected representatives across geographies and identities to define a shared political and economic vision, coordinate global action, and hold institutions accountable. It would foster a sense of common purpose and ownership, moving us beyond donor-driven agendas, geopolitical games, or national silos and toward a structure rooted in accountability, solidarity, and self-determination.
— Lay the foundations of economic sovereignty. Political power without economic power is always borrowed — and today, LGBTQ+ communities remain locked out of capital flows, investment ecosystems, and financial decision-making at every level. I spent the last 15 years assessing our socio-economic outcomes, and we are systematically getting crumbs. To change that, we must architect our economic infrastructure: an interconnected system of community development financial institutions, social investment funds, queer-owned enterprises, and financial vehicles designed by and for LGBTQ+ people. We must tap into our community genius to foster employment and economic independence. The Global LGBTQ+ Inclusive Finance Forum I am co-organizing this fall is a first step — less a conference than a catalytic engine to define standards, scale innovations, and mobilize capital across borders. From Nairobi to São Paulo to Manila, we can seed an economy that doesn’t just include us but belongs to us because economic independence is the precondition for lasting freedom.
What comes next for LGBTQ+ people is a question of imagination. For LGBTQ+ people, the challenge is to bridge our creativity with our aversion to planning for the future. If we are to reclaim the trajectory of our movement, we must be less reactionary and more strategic. The collapse of old certainties is not a tragedy — an American-driven queer liberation movement was also inexorably tied to the doomed U.S. brand of capitalism, but an opening. We are being called to imagine more than a world where generous straight allies toss us the scraps of their power and goodwill. Our sovereignty — political, cultural, economic — is not something to be granted by the Democratic party or won in U.S. courtrooms. It is something we must build with intention, with vision, and with each other. This is the work of a generation. Let’s begin.
Fabrice Houdart is a human rights and corporate social responsibility specialist with 20 years of experience at the World Bank and the United Nations. In 2022, he founded the Association of LGBTQ + Corporate Directors, and in 2023, he co-founded Koppa, a nonprofit focused on LGBTQ+ economic empowerment. He originally published this article on “Fabrice Houdart | A Weekly Newsletter on LGBTQ+ Equality” on March 23.
Commentary
Washington Blade responds to concerns over White House pool duties
Inaccurate media reports create confusion but we stand with our colleagues
Last week, President Trump announced his unconstitutional ban of CNN, MSNow, and Politico from the White House. Coincidentally, on Monday, it was the Washington Blade’s turn to serve as the print pool reporter on duty covering the president’s actions that day. This important responsibility is shared and rotated among the print members with each serving roughly once per month. The Blade is the only LGBTQ outlet with a seat in the briefing room, a slot in the pool rotation, and membership in the White House Correspondents’ Association, something we fought for decades to secure after enduring years of discrimination, ridicule, and resistance to openly queer journalists working inside the White House. We take our responsibilities there seriously.
There are two pools that cover the president: broadcast and print. The other four members of the broadcast pool — ABC, CBS, NBC, and Fox News — agreed to boycott their pool duties. There has been no boycott among the print pool, which is a separate entity. I called the president of the White House Correspondents’ Association on Monday to confirm that no outlets in the print pool were boycotting.
A boycott by the Blade would set us back and lead to our expulsion from the pool and briefing room and our replacement by a right-wing outlet sympathetic to President Trump’s approach to attacking the media. The LGBTQ community is far better served with the Blade in the room than a far-right blogger taking our seat.
Let’s be clear: the Blade stands for diversity, equity, and inclusion and we stand for the First Amendment and freedom of the press. In solidarity with the broadcast pool, we made two important decisions on Monday — the first day anyone had to think about any of this. First, we refused to take or share any videos or still photos of the president, which would have undermined the broadcast boycott. Second, when Politico’s turn comes up for pool duty in mid-October, the Blade will not fill in and cover for them while they are banned. Politico must be readmitted and allowed to do their job.
After a rough day navigating and reporting on all of this, the Advocate published a reckless and inaccurate story suggesting that the Blade had crossed a picket line. Not true, as there is no print pool boycott. They claimed that I wouldn’t talk to their reporter. Also not true. I called their reporter within 90 minutes of receiving his message and he didn’t take the call or call me back. Their story named me and our White House reporter, immediately exposing us to public criticism and worse. The environment in D.C. is so toxic and even violent these days that subjecting our staff to unfair and false accusations like this invites harassment, doxxing, and worse. To do that without even talking to us is next level irresponsible and the antithesis of journalism.
On Tuesday, I talked to two reporters and an editor at the Advocate but they refused to retract anything in their inaccurate story. If the reporter had returned my call, I could have explained all of this but they are more concerned with clickbait and sensational headlines, a dangerous practice in these troubled times.
Back to the pool. The Blade was in the briefing room in the Reagan era, when Press Secretary Larry Speakes made jokes about AIDS and the reporters in the room laughed out loud. We endured all of that abuse and worse for decades, always standing in the back of the room and never being called on. The Blade’s journalists persevered. When President George W. Bush was re-elected in 2004, the Blade’s White House credentials were revoked amid an earlier press crackdown. Notably, no one boycotted or stood up for us. When Barack Obama won election in 2008, I received an email from his communications director informing me that effective midnight on Jan. 20, 2009, the Blade’s credentials would be restored.
So we have had quite a ride navigating administrations and their changing requirements for gaining access but always playing the long game. As Barney Frank used to say, “If you’re not at the table, then you’re probably on the menu.” The Blade is at the table and we do our best to ensure the LGBTQ community’s issues are addressed by both parties.
Thanks for reading and supporting the Blade’s work. If you have questions about our approach, you can reach me at [email protected].
Kevin Naff is editor of the Washington Blade. Reach him at [email protected].
Opinions
Young people should know history of the fight for human rights
Trump is working to erase contributions of marginalized people
When talking with otherwise really smart young people, I am amazed how little knowledge many of them have about the fight for human rights in the United States. Our country was founded by white men, who didn’t think about giving full rights to Black Americans, women, the LGBTQ community (what they knew of it, or called it). They wrote in the Declaration of Independence, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” But that referred to all white men, and intentionally didn’t mention women. For 250 years, the country has been trying to make up for that, and making progress in fits and starts. We have yet to fully succeed. Today the felon, and his fascist aides, in the White House, are working daily to take us backwards.
For that reason alone, it is important for younger generations to understand the fight for human rights, know who was fighting for those rights, and understand it is an ongoing fight. Often, when listening to some millennials speak, one would think the world began with them. They either forgot, or never learned, about all those who fought for the rights they now have. I realize this was true for previous generations as well. In 2016 I co-hosted a fundraiser for Pete Buttigieg during his run for president. He is an undeniably brilliant guy. Yet when he spoke of marriage equality, he just thanked Justice Kennedy for it. I reminded him after he spoke, while it’s nice to thank Kennedy for his vote, it shouldn’t be done without acknowledging the many activists who worked for decades, to get to the point that allowed Kennedy to cast that vote. In the same way it was clear to me during the Hillary Clinton campaign for president, many young women didn’t understand the work many of their own mothers had done, to fight for their right to control their own healthcare, and women’s rights in general. They took for granted the rights they had. Now, after losing some of them, many will realize the fight for their rights is never-ending.
When I speak to younger members of the LGBTQ community, I am amazed how many don’t know the history of the AIDS epidemic, many thinking it was always a disease you could deal with by taking medication. They don’t understand the work so many activists did to bring attention to this devastating disease, and get the healthcare so many needed. Those like Cleve Jones, Larry Kramer, Dr. Anthony Fauci, and so many others. Recently, I realized how many young women don’t know the names of Gloria Steinem, Betty Friedan, Shirley Chisholm, Bella Abzug — women who fought for their rights. And this is just recent history, no less knowing about the Suffragettes, the strong women who fought for their right to vote. I’ve met young women who don’t know what the ERA is, and others who think it passed. Many don’t know the nation couldn’t get 38 states to approve an amendment to include them in the Constitution. The same for young members of the LGBTQ community who don’t know what the Equality Act is. Others think it passed, and are shocked when told it didn’t and in 27 states, they can be married on Sunday, and kicked out of their home, and fired from their job, on Monday. They don’t know names like Frank Kameny, Harvey Milk, Barney Frank, or the history of the Mattachine Society, or the Stonewall Riots.
Our current president is trying to wipe out all this history, and reverse any progress that has been made. Knowing this, it makes it even more important for school systems across the nation to fight to educate our children. We should ensure no child can graduate high school, without taking a course called “The 250-year fight for human rights in the United States.” They need to understand the history, and learn about the people who fought for their rights. They need to know how far we have come in 250 years, and understand, as we begin the next 250, how far we still have to go, to ensure real, full equality, for all.
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
Commentary
What LGBTQ veterans are building after ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’
DADT repeal took effect on Sept. 20, 2011. Trans servicemember ban reinstated
Fifteen years ago this month, the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” took effect. At the time, the importance of the change was obvious: gay, lesbian, and bisexual Americans would no longer have to hide who they were to wear the uniform. What was harder to see was what would follow: a generation of LGBTQ veterans able to carry their service openly into American civic life.
Earlier this month, Alaska state Rep. Andrew Gray, an Army veteran, stood before the Anchorage Assembly and asked the city to recognize Sept. 20 as LGBTQ Veterans Day.
His former command sergeant major, Mike Grunst, followed him to the microphone. A 35-year veteran who had served in combat, Grunst called troops who had served while hiding who they were “the bravest I have ever served with.”
Then Denise Sudbeck stepped forward. A Vietnam-era Navy veteran, she thanked the country for the privilege of serving and asked that the next generation have the same chance.
The Assembly approved the recognition.
Nothing about the scene required a new vocabulary. A veteran made a request of his community. A commander vouched for those who served beside him. Another veteran asked that younger Americans inherit the opportunity she valued. They entered the civic record simply as veterans.
That identity can do more than win recognition.
When federal policy abruptly ended the careers of transgender servicemembers this year, veterans and servicemembers in California began asking a practical question: What happens when those Americans come home?
Republican Assemblyman Jeff Gonzalez, a Marine combat veteran, began one hearing with questions about transgender military service. He listened as veterans explained how the military handles medical care and deployment case by case.
Then the discussion turned to separation.
“I don’t wanna see any veteran homeless,” Gonzalez said. Before the hearing ended, he was asking: “How can I help? How can I understand? How can I be a good advocate?”
The legislation that followed would provide housing, employment and transition assistance to discharged servicemembers. Republican state Sen. Shannon Grove spoke for it. The Senate passed it 32 to 0.
Americans have plainly not settled their disagreements over transgender people. Nor should military service be a prerequisite for rights that belong to every citizen.
But military service creates relationships that are difficult to reduce to the abstractions of the culture war. Before a legislature, “the transgender issue” can become a veteran who deployed, an officer who led troops, or the person who once stood beside you.
The political question changes because the human relationship has already changed.
The pattern is beginning to appear across the country. Kansas is among the states recognizing LGBTQ Veterans Day for the first time this year. New York and Virginia are pursuing broader state-level programs for LGBTQ veterans.
Sept. 20 is deliberate. On that day in 2011, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” ended.
We usually remember repeal for what LGBTQ Americans gained: the ability to serve openly. Fifteen years later, we can also see what the country gained.
A gay veteran can stand before his local government beside the commander who once led him. A transgender servicemember can sit before a legislator who begins with doubts and ends by asking how he can help. A veteran from an older generation can ask her neighbors to give those who follow her the same chance to serve.
This is citizenship in practice.
The enduring legacy of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” repeal is not only that Americans were finally allowed to serve openly. It is also what they can now build after coming home.
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What LGBTQ veterans are building after ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’
