A former Treasury Department employee who led the agency’s LGBTQ employee resource group says the removal of sexual orientation and gender identity (SOGI) from its discrimination complaint forms was merely a formalization of existing policy shifts that had already taken hold following the second inauguration of President Donald Trump and his appointment of Scott Bessent — who is gay — to lead the agency. 

Christen Boas Hayes, who served on the policy team at Treasury’s Financial Crimes Enforcement Network (FinCEN) from 2020 until March of this year, told the Washington Blade during a phone interview last week that the agency had already stopped processing internal Equal Employment Opportunity (EEO) complaints on the basis of anti-LGBTQ discrimination. 

“So the way that the forms are changing is a procedural recognition of something that’s already happening,” said Hayes. “Internally, from speaking to two EEO staff members, the changes are already taking place from an EEO perspective on what kind of cases will be found to have the basis for a complaint.”

The move, they said, comes amid the deterioration of support structures for LGBTQ workers at the agency since the administration’s early rollout of anti-LGBTQ executive orders, which led to “a trickle down effect of how each agency implements those and on what timeline,” decisions “typically made by the assistant secretary of management’s office and then implemented by the appropriate offices.”

At the end of June, a group of U.S. House Democrats including several out LGBTQ members raised alarms after a Federal Register notice disclosed Treasury’s plans to revise its complaint procedures. Through the agency’s Office of Civil Rights and EEO, the agency would eliminate SOGI as protected categories on the forms used by employees to initiate claims of workplace discrimination.

But Hayes’s account reveals that the paperwork change followed months of internal practice, pursuant to a wave of layoffs targeting DEI personnel and a chilling effect on LGBTQ organizing, including through ERGs. 

Hayes joined Treasury’s FinCEN in 2020 as the agency transitioned into the Biden-Harris administration, working primarily on cryptocurrency regulation and emerging technologies until they accepted a “deferred resignation” offer, which was extended to civil servants this year amid drastic staffing cuts. 

“It was two things,” Hayes said. “One was the fact that the policy work that I was very excited about doing was going to change in nature significantly. The second part was that the environment for LGBTQ staff members was increasingly negative after the release of the executive orders,” especially for trans and nonbinary or gender diverse employees. 

“At the same time,” Hayes added, “having been on the job for four years, I also knew this year was the year that I would leave Treasury. I was a good candidate for [deferred resignation], because I was already planning on leaving, but the pressures that emerged following the change in administration really pushed me to accelerate that timeline.”

Some ERGs die by formal edict, others by a thousand cuts 

Hayes became involved with the Treasury LGBTQ ERG shortly after joining the agency in 2020, when they reached out to the group’s then-president — “who also recently took the deferred resignation.”

“She said that because of the pressure that ERGs had faced under the first Trump administration, the group was rebuilding, and I became the president of the group pretty quickly,” Hayes said. “Those pressures have increased in the second Trump administration.”

One of the previous ERG board members had left the agency after encountering what Hayes described as “explicitly transphobic” treatment from supervisors during his gender transition. “His supervisors denied him a promotion,” and, “importantly, he did not have faith in the EEO complaint process” to see the issues with discrimination resolved, Hayes said. “And so he decided to just leave, which was, of course, such a loss for Treasury and our Employee Resource Group and all of our employees at Treasury.”

The umbrella LGBTQ ERG that Hayes led included hundreds of members across the agency, they said, and was complemented by smaller ERGs at sub-agencies like the IRS and FinCEN — several of which, Hayes said, were explicitly told to cease operations under the new administration.

Hayes did not receive any formal directive to shutter Treasury’s ERG, but described an “implicit” messaging campaign meant to shut down the group’s activities without issuing anything in writing.

“The suggestion was to stop emailing about anything related to the employee resource group, to have meetings outside of work hours, to meet off of Treasury’s campus, and things like that,” they said. “So obviously that contributes to essentially not existing functionally. Because whereas we could have previously emailed our members comfortably to announce a happy hour or a training or something like that, now they have to text each other personally to gather, which essentially makes it a defunct group.”

Internal directories scrubbed, gender-neutral restrooms removed

Hayes said the dismantling of DEI staff began almost immediately after the executive orders. Employees whose position descriptions included the terms “diversity, equity, and inclusion” were “on the chopping block,” they said. “That may differ from more statutorily mandated positions in the OMWI office or the EEO office.”

With those staff gone, so went the infrastructure that enabled ERG programming and community-building. “The people that made our employee resource group events possible were DEI staff that were fired. And so, it created an immediate chilling effect on our employee resource group, and it also, of course, put fear into a lot of our members’ hearts over whether or not we would be able to continue gathering as a community or supporting employees in a more practical way going forward. And it was just, really — it was really sad.”

Hayes described efforts to erase the ERGs from internal communication channels and databases. “They also took our information off internal websites so nobody could find us as lawyers went through the agency’s internal systems to scrub DEI language and programs,” they said.

Within a week, Hayes said, the administration had removed gender-neutral restrooms from Main Treasury, removed third-gender markers from internal databases and forms, and made it more difficult for employees with nonbinary IDs to access government buildings.

“[They] made it challenging for people with X gender markers on identification documents to access Treasury or the White House by not recognizing their gender marker on the TWAVES and WAVES forms.”

LGBTQ staff lack support and work amid a climate of isolation 

The changes have left many LGBTQ staff feeling vulnerable — not only because of diminished workplace inclusion, but due to concerns about job security amid the administration’s reductions in force (RIFs).

“Plenty of people are feeling very stressed, not only about retaining their jobs because of the layoffs and pending questions around RIFs, but then also wondering if they will be included in RIF lists because they’re being penalized somehow for being out at work,” Hayes said. “People wonder if their name will be given, not because they’re in a tranche of billets being laid off, but because of their gender identity or sexual orientation.”

In the absence of functional ERGs, Hayes said, LGBTQ employees have been cut off from even informal networks of support.

“Employees [are] feeling like it’s harder to find members of their own community because there’s no email anymore to ask when the next event is or to ask about navigating healthcare or other questions,” they said. “If there is no ERG to go to to ask for support for their specific issue, that contributes to isolation, which contributes to a worse work environment.”

Hayes said they had not interacted directly with Secretary Bessent, but they and others observed a shift from the previous administration. “It is stark to see that our first ‘out’ secretary did not host a Pride event this year,” they said. “For the last three years we’ve flown the rainbow Pride flag above Treasury during Pride. And it was such a celebration among staff and Secretary Yellen and the executive secretary’s office were super supportive.”

“Employees notice changes like that,” they added. “Things like the fact that the Secretary’s official bio says ‘spouse’ instead of ‘husband.’ It makes employees wonder if they too should be fearful of being their full selves at work.”

The Blade contacted the Treasury Department with a request for comment outlining Hayes’s allegations, including the removal of inclusive infrastructure, the discouragement of ERG activity, the pre-formalization of EEO policy changes, and the targeting of DEI personnel. As of publication, the agency has not responded.

On June 25, as Pride month inched toward its end, three queer creators launched an ambitious project to honor the spaces that built D.C.’s LGBTQ community—and connect them to today’s queer life. The first episode of their podcast, Queering the District, hit streaming platforms that day, aiming to spotlight what host and co-creator Abby Stuckrath calls “third places”: bars, clubs, and gathering spots that have served as hubs for queer life across the city.

Each episode of the 10-part series delves into a different piece of D.C.’s queer past—from landmark clubs to untold personal stories—told through the voices of drag legends, activists, DJs, historians, and patrons who lived it. The show also threads together personal experiences from today’s community, bringing the listener on an auditory journey from Prohibition-era speakeasies to contemporary nights out at places like As You Are or Saints & Sinners.

Abby Stuckrath, alongside her sibling Ellie Stuckrath, and producer Mads Reagan, make up the podcast’s creative team. A recent journalism graduate of American University, Abby told the Blade that her passion for queer storytelling began during college—and that D.C. itself played a defining role in shaping her queer identity.

“I went to American University. I graduated last year and studied journalism. When I was in school, I always wanted to focus on queer stories – especially in D.C., because I’m from Denver, Colorado, I’ve never lived in a place like this before. D.C. has always just kind of been a place I call home when it comes to my queer identity.”

But breaking into the media to tell those stories wasn’t easy. Stuckrath quickly learned that editorial support—and funding—for queer-focused projects is limited. So she decided to do it her own way.

“I kind of found out that if you want to tell stories, you kind of have to do it on your own– especially when it comes to queer stories. There’s not a lot of people begging for us to talk about queer people and to pay you for it. So I was like, ‘Okay, let’s just do it on my own.’”

The idea for the podcast first took root in conversations with Ellie, Abby’s sibling and biggest supporter. Ellie had also moved to D.C. to find more space to explore and express their queer and gender identities. Together, the two began shaping a vision that would combine storytelling, sound design, and grassroots community input.

“I was like, ‘I don’t know what exactly I want to do yet, but I want it to be queer, and I want it to be about D.C., and it’s going to be called Queering the District, and we’re going to find out what that means.’ And Ellie is my biggest supporter, and my best friend. And they were like, ‘Hell yeah. Like, let’s do this.’ And so we decided to just do it together.”

The name stuck—and so did the mission. The team began researching queer D.C. history and found a city overflowing with stories that had rarely been documented, especially in mainstream archives.

“We started looking up the history of queer culture in D.C., and it kind of just clicked from there,” Stuckrath said. “I did not know anything about how rich our history is in the city until one Google search, and then I just kept learning more and more. I was kind of pissed because I studied gender studies in school in D.C. and didn’t learn shit about this.”

Season one focuses on the role of third places—non-work, non-home spaces where queer people could gather, exist fully, and build community.

“Third places have always been the epicenter of queer life… places outside of just your own personal home, because sometimes that isn’t a safe place. And of course, the work most commonly in the past and still today, isn’t a safe place for queer people to be full of themselves. So like, bars were the first place for queer people to really thrive and meet each other.”

To make the show participatory, Queering the District includes a twist: a voicemail line where anyone can call in and share a memory or question. The team calls the phone “Fifi”—a nod to the kind of retro guestbooks often used at weddings, but reimagined for queer nightlife and history.

“We wanted to find a way for people to share their stories with us anonymously… so even though we start in Prohibition, we wanted to connect it to now—like, those people who were singing jazz to each other in a white queer bar are connected to you singing karaoke on a Sunday night at your favorite gay bar. We’re all interconnected by this third place of queer bars in D.C.”

Those connections are emotional as well as historical. While building the series, one realization hit Stuckrath particularly hard: the immense loss of queer spaces in D.C., especially in neighborhoods that have since been heavily redeveloped.

“Every time I go to a Nats game, I think about, well, this just replaced five gay bars that used to be here. It used to be the home of Ziegfeld’s… Tracks, which was almost 2,000 square feet, with a volleyball court in the back, a fire pit, and iconic light show. I just didn’t know that we had that, and it made me sad for the queer elders that are in our city now who walk the streets and don’t see all those places they used to call home.”

That sense of loss—alongside the joy and resilience of queer community—is what the show aims to capture. As the podcast continues, Abby hopes it serves as both a celebration and an educational tool, especially for young LGBTQ people arriving in D.C. without realizing the queer foundations they’re walking on.

“D.C. is a unique city, and specifically young queer people who are hoping to move to the city—to know that you’ve got to know your history to be here. I hope this serves as an easier way for you to consume and learn about queer history, because queer history defines how we move in life.”

And for all the voices still left out, Abby is clear: this podcast is an open door, not a final word.

“This is a perfectly imperfect podcast. We should just be a starting point. We shouldn’t be the ending point.”

New episodes of Queering the District drop every Wednesday on all major platforms.

The International Criminal Court on Tuesday issued arrest warrants for two top Taliban officials accused of targeting LGBTQ people, women, and others who defy the group’s strict gender norms.

The warrants are for Hibatullah Akhundzada, the Taliban’s supreme leader, and Afghanistan Chief Justice Abdul Hakim Haqqani.

“Based on evidence presented by the Office (of the Prosecutor), the judges found that there are reasonable grounds to believe that they have committed — by ordering, inducing, or soliciting — the crime against humanity of persecution, under article 7(1)(h) of the Rome Statute, on gender grounds, against girls, women, and other persons non-conforming with the Taliban’s policy on gender, gender identity or expression; and on political grounds against persons perceived as ‘allies of girls and women,’” reads an ICC press release that announced the warrants.

Karim Khan, the ICC’s chief prosecutor, in January announced a request for warrants against Taliban officials over their treatment of women and other groups since they regained control of Afghanistan in 2021. The request marked the first time the court specifically named LGBTQ people as victims in a gender persecution case before it.

“The issuance of the first arrest warrants in the situation in Afghanistan is an important vindication and acknowledgement of the rights of Afghan women and girls,” reads the press release the ICC released on Tuesday. “It also recognizes the rights and lived experiences of persons whom the Taliban perceived as not conforming with their ideological expectations of gender identity or expression, such as members of the LGBTQI+ community, and persons whom the Taliban perceived as allies of girls and women.” 

A report that Outright International released in 2023 notes Taliban officials have systematically targeted LGBTQ people — especially gay men and transgender women.

Taliban officials have subjected them to physical and sexual assault as well as arbitrary detention. The Outright International report also notes Taliban authorities have carried out public floggings for alleged same-sex sexual relations, and have collected intelligence on LGBTQ activists and community members.

Artemis Akbary, executive director of the Afghanistan LGBTIQ Organization, praised the ICC.

“Today is a historic moment for LGBTIQ victims and survivors,” he said on social media.

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