A buzz of anticipation filled Cafritz Hall on Wednesday evening. Though a few seats remained empty, the atmosphere suggested a pop star might be moments from taking the stage. But the spotlight wasn’t reserved for a chart-topping performer—it was focused on a different kind of icon.

Dr. Anthony Fauci, the former director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID), stepped forward to receive the Harvey Milk Chesed Award—an honor recognizing compassion, courage, and a lifetime of public service.

The Harvey Milk Chesed Award was established by Bet Mishpachah in 1998 in honor of civil rights leader Harvey Milk. Milk, a member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors and one of the first openly gay elected officials in the United States, was assassinated in 1978 following his public advocacy for LGBTQ rights. Bet Mishpachah gives out the award annually to an individual who has made “outstanding contributions to the LGBTQ+ and Jewish communities that exemplify the virtue of chesed, or ‘lovingkindness.’”

The program began promptly at 7 p.m. at Bet Mishpachah, Washington’s LGBTQ egalitarian synagogue, and featured a diverse lineup of speakers, including rabbis, physicians, professors, synagogue members, and past recipients of the Harvey Milk Chesed Award. While each speaker highlighted different facets of Dr. Fauci’s career – from his leadership during public health crises to his engagement with Jewish and LGBTQ communities- a unifying theme emerged: his unwavering commitment to doing what’s right, even in the face of political opposition, including from presidents.

Fauci, who was director of the NIAID from 1984 to 2022, was at the forefront of understanding and combating some of the deadliest diseases known to humanity, including tuberculosis, Zika, and HIV/AIDS. As the HIV/AIDS epidemic escalated and frustration with federal inaction mounted, Fauci took an unconventional step for a high-ranking public health official: He began engaging directly with the activists demanding change. That simple act of listening, he later explained, shaped his understanding of what patients truly needed — even when it meant defying the prevailing wisdom of the medical establishment.

“I developed long-term friendships with the activists,” Fauci said in a 2023 interview with PBS’ American Masters. “We were sort of like soldiers in the same war.”

This spirit of solidarity echoed throughout the night’s speakers, beginning with Barry Friedman, who delivered welcoming remarks to the crowd. Friedman began his introduction with a Hebrew phrase that, at first glance, might not seem to align with a man devoted to the rigor of medical science. But as he explained, it was a phrase Fauci exemplified.

“Lo tukhal l’hitaleim,” Friedman read from his notes, explaining that this message was hailed in his youth as the “11th commandment” by his mother. “You must not remain indifferent,” he translated.

Fauci, Friedman explained, remained steadfast in the principles of medicine while also showing deep compassion for those living with HIV and AIDS. He advocated for changes to drug trial protocols—convincing researchers to allow patients to “parallel track” experimental treatments, even when doing so went against past medical norms. This shift helped extend lives and alleviate symptoms in those most affected by the disease.

As the night continued, speaker after speaker reflected on the extraordinary achievements Fauci helped bring about—not just through scientific breakthroughs, but by listening to the people who were so often ignored. Fauci credited activists like Larry Kramer for ensuring the needs of HIV/AIDS patients could not be overlooked.

One of those speakers, Jeff Levi, an emeritus professor at the Milken Institute School of Public Health at George Washington University, former deputy director of the White House Office of National AIDS Policy, and a close friend of Fauci, led a panel discussion where the two expanded on stories from Fauci’s 2024 bestselling book “On Call: A Doctor’s Journey in Public Service.” During the panel, Fauci reflected on how his Jesuit Catholic upbringing helped shape a moral compass that transcended religious, cultural, and political boundaries in his public health work, and how he was able to navigate such a difficult time in medical history.

While it’s nearly impossible to calculate how many lives Fauci has helped save, the numbers point to an extraordinary legacy. Millions of LGBTQ people owe their survival in part to his efforts to understand how HIV spread, how it progressed, and how its symptoms could be mitigated. In addition, more than 25 million people worldwide- mostly in sub-Saharan Africa- have benefited from PEPFAR, the President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief, which Fauci played a key role in creating.

Following the panel, Fauci took questions from the audience, reflecting on both his legacy and the enduring power of public advocacy.

“The gay community wasn’t afraid to speak up in the 1980s,” he told one audience member, who asked about the parallels between HIV/AIDS and the COVID-19 pandemic, and what people could do now to offset some of the… less than factual ‘information’ being presented as truth from the Trump administration. “And we can’t be afraid to speak up now.”

When asked what message he hopes young LGBTQ doctors will take from his life’s work, Fauci paused, then offered a heartfelt answer. “I don’t want to sound too melodramatic, but we need to love each other.”

As the crowd filtered out of the hall and only a handful of Fauci admirers lingered in line for a signed book, the Blade caught up with the evening’s honoree. Asked how it felt to receive the Harvey Milk Chesed Award, Fauci’s response was characteristically humble.

“It was a terrific honor to be given an award by this community,” he said with a warm smile—an understated close to an evening that celebrated a lifetime of extraordinary impact.

Close to 100 people joined D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser, two members of the D.C. Council, and other city officials for a ribbon-cutting ceremony marking the official opening of Mary’s House for Older Adults, the city’s first home dedicated to LGBTQ seniors.

Located at 401 Anacostia Rd., S.E. in the city’s Fort Dupont neighborhood, the three-story house includes 15 single-occupancy residential units and more than 5,000 square feet of communal living space.

Imani Woody, the Mary’s House President, CEO, and founder, said construction of the new house, which is located on the site of the house she grew up in, was completed in January and residents began moving in in March. She said there is now a waiting list for those interested in living there.

Bowser and Woody were among nine city officials and community leaders who spoke at the event in a large outdoor courtyard behind the house that’s part of Mary’s House grounds.

“You are providing housing,” Bowser told Woody in her remarks at the event. “You are providing a solution to the epidemic of loneliness. You are providing a vehicle for Washingtonians to stay in Washington,” the mayor said. “And you are showing that a woman with an idea who cannot be stopped can deliver for D.C.”

Bowser called Mary’s House a model for senior housing that she said could be brought to other parts of the city.

Woody thanked the mayor and the D.C. Council for providing city funding to support Mary’s House.

“This house is amazing,” she told the gathering. “It houses 15 people. But the concept is more than 15 people,” she said. “This is a place for residents of Washington, D.C., LGBTQ+ same-gender-loving to have a safe space.” 

Among the others participating in the event were Japer Bowles, director of the  Mayor’s Office of LGBTQ Affairs, and D.C. Council members Robert White (D-At-Large) and Wendell Felder (D-Ward 7).

Felder, who noted that Mary’s House is located in Ward 7, which he represents, called the ward a “welcoming community” that absolutely has welcomed Mary’s House.

“Mary’s House represents more than just bricks and mortar,” he told the gathering. “It’s a testament to what we can achieve when we commit to justice, inclusion and community. It recognizes that our elders, especially those in the LGBTQ+ and same-gender-loving communities, in a diverse space that honors their full identity and provides not only shelter but affirmation and belonging.”

Woody said each of the 15 individual units or suites at Mary’s House includes a sleeping area, living room, bathroom, and kitchenette with a sink, microwave and refrigerator but no stove. The Mary’s House website says the shared communal areas of the house include a “fully equipped kitchen, separate dining area and living room.”

It says the communal area also includes a computer room, arts and crafts room, an exercise room, laundry facilities, community meeting space, a “tranquil quiet room for relaxation,” and an outdoor terrace with seating.

Woody points out that Mary’s House, which is a nonprofit operation, is not an assisted living facility.

The website statement adds, “Through health and wellness programs, connections to community services, and advocacy efforts, Mary’s House for Older Adults endeavors to ensure that all elders, regardless of identity, can enjoy fulfilling and secure lives in their golden years.”

Further information about Mary’s House, including the availability of space to live, can be obtained at MarysHouseDC.org or at 240-972-2500.

In conjunction with WorldPride 2025, the Rainbow History Project is creating an exhibit on the evolution of Pride: “Pickets, Protests, and Parades: The History of Gay Pride in Washington.” It will be on Freedom Plaza from May 17-July 7. This is the ninth in a series of 10 articles that share the research themes and invite public participation. In “A New Alliance for a New Millenium” we discuss how Whitman-Walker’s stewardship of Pride led to the creation of the Capital Pride Alliance and how the 1960s demands of the Mattachine Society of Washington were seen as major victories under the Obama administration.

This section of the exhibit explores how the Whitman-Walker Clinic, a cornerstone of the community since the 1970s, stepped up to rescue Pride from a serious financial crisis. The Clinic not only stabilized Pride but also helped it expand, guiding the festival through its 30th anniversary and cementing its role as a unifying force for the city’s LGBTQ population. As Whitman-Walker shifted its focus to primary healthcare, rebranding as Whitman-Walker Health, a new era began with the formation of the Capital Pride Alliance (CPA). Born from the volunteers and community partners who had kept Pride going, CPA took the reins and transformed Capital Pride into one of the largest free LGBTQ festivals in the country. Under CPA’s stewardship, the festival grew to attract hundreds of thousands, with multi-day celebrations, headline performers, and a vibrant parade. 

This period saw Pride become a true cross-section of the community, as former Capital Pride Alliance executive director Dyana Mason recalled: “It was wonderfully diverse and had a true cross section of our community… Everybody was there and just being themselves.” The festival’s expansion created space for more people to find a sense of belonging and affirmation. This growth was made possible through the support of sponsors, volunteers, and a city eager to celebrate-but it also sparked ongoing debates about the role of corporate funding and the meaning of Pride in a changing world.

National politics are woven throughout this era. In a powerful moment of recognition, Frank Kameny — the architect of D.C.’s first White House picket for gay rights and a founder of the Mattachine Society — was invited to the White House in 2009. There, President Obama and the U.S. government formally apologized for Kameny’s firing from federal service in 1957, a symbolic act that echoed the earliest demands of DC’s own Mattachine Society, the city’s first gay civil rights organization founded in 1961. The 2009 National Equality March revived the spirit of earlier mass mobilizations, linking LGBTQ rights to broader movements for social justice. The 2010s brought landmark victories: “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” was repealed, marriage equality became law. These wins suggested decades of protest had borne fruit, yet new generations continued to debate the meaning of true liberation and inclusion.

Our exhibit examines how the political edge of Pride has softened as the event has grown. As the festival expanded in scale and visibility, the focus on protest and activism has sometimes faded into the background, even as new challenges and divisions have emerged. Some voices have called for a return to Pride’s more radical roots. The 2017 Equality March for Unity and Pride drew 80,000 people to D.C., centering intersectional struggles — police violence, immigrant rights, trans inclusion — and exposing the widening rift between mainstream LGBTQ progress and the lived realities of the most vulnerable. The question remains: Are LGBTQ officers marching in uniform a sign of progress or a painful reminder of Pride’s roots in resistance to state violence? During Capital Pride 2017, activists blocked the parade, targeting floats sponsored by corporations linked to weapons manufacturing, pipeline financing, and other forms of oppression. 

As we prepare for WorldPride and the anniversaries of D.C.’s first Gay Pride Day Block Party and the White House picket, the Rainbow History Project invites you to experience this living history at Freedom Plaza. Through archival images and the voices of organizers and participants, you’ll discover how Pride in DC has been shaped by resilience, reinvention, and the ongoing struggle to ensure every voice is heard. 

Zoey O’Donnell is a member of the Rainbow History Project. Vincent Slatt is RHP’s senior curator.