President Donald Trump and first lady Melania Trump attended the opening night of “Chicago” at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts on Tuesday. They were greeted by a mix of cheers, applause, and some audible boos.

Among them was Eugene Ramirez, a gay Washington resident, who later shared his account of the night after being briefly detained by security for booing the president and giving a thumbs-down gesture — an expression of what many would call a textbook definition of constitutionally protected speech to criticize the government.

Ramirez attended the opening night performance with a group of friends, hoping to catch a final show before the center undergoes two years of major changes under Trump oversight. The musical, based on a 1926 play of the same name, has become synonymous with Broadway success.

With music by John Kander, lyrics by Fred Ebb, and a book by Ebb and Bob Fosse, “Chicago” has cemented itself as a cultural staple — known for its signature Fosse choreography, stripped-down staging, and sleek, campy aesthetic. The story follows Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly, women who murder their husbands but — with the help of the manipulative, charismatic, and narcissistic attorney Billy Flynn — walk away scot-free.

It remains the longest-running American musical in Broadway history, and its 2002 film adaptation famously won the Academy Award for Best Picture. On this night, however, the production also became the backdrop for a very modern moment of political protest.

“I accompanied five friends to opening night of ‘Chicago’, as a way to enjoy a final performance in the Kennedy Center as we know it,” Ramirez began to recount to the Washington Blade, describing the moment his group settled into their seats inside the ornate Opera House theater.

Just before the performance began, the twice impeached president and first lady appeared in the balcony box, drawing immediate attention from the audience below. Theatergoers stood, cheered, clapped, and waved, while Ramirez made a different choice.

While accounts of the crowd’s reaction have varied, Ramirez said his response was intentional, immediate, and within his rights. Moments after booing and giving a thumbs-down while recording on his iPhone, security intervened.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Joe Reberkenny (@reberkennyreports)

The video of Ramirez booing the Trump’s is here:

“Within moments, the director [of security] and another guard approached and escorted me to a side area where several other security guards were waiting,” he said. “I was detained until everyone was seated and the lights dimmed.”

As he was escorted away, Ramirez said his instincts as a journalist kicked in. A former lead anchor for Sinclair’s national evening news broadcast, he said the situation immediately felt off — or more aptly put — as if he could see the strings being pulled from someone attempting to control the narrative.

“Journalism is a vocation, not just a job. I immediately knew there wasn’t just an uncomfortable interaction with security,” he said. “The Kennedy Center is a federally funded cultural institution, and being questioned about speech related to the president in that setting felt like something the public should know about.”

Ramirez explained the difference between a standard visit by a public official and this performance: the president’s appearance wasn’t just ceremonial; it was very clearly a media moment.

“The White House press pool was there, and it was clear this was an effort to manage the president’s image in the media,” Ramirez continued. “The irony was not lost on me that this was happening on opening night of ‘Chicago’, a musical about manipulating the press to shape public perception.”

According to Ramirez, the explanation he received from Kennedy Center Director of Safety and Security Karles C. Jackson Sr., was brief, but illuminating.

“He said, ‘they don’t want booing,’ and even called out my thumbs-down gesture. He never clarified who ‘they’ were, but whether it was the administration or the Kennedy Center, the distinction felt meaningless,” he explained. “Mr. Jackson ultimately told me he was just trying to do his job, shook my hand, and allowed me to return to my seat once the lights dimmed and the overture started playing.”

Ramirez said he didn’t blame the guard individually, noting the broader context of the Kennedy Center’s uncertain future and the pressures staff were under.

“With the center closing in the coming months, some of these security guards being pressured to restrict our freedom of speech may only have a few weeks of work left.”

He believes the decision to remove him was driven less by disruption than optics, particularly given the presence of the press.

“It was very clearly about protection — whether protecting the president from visible dissent, or his image before the media present. There was no disruption as almost everyone was standing and reacting loudly to the arrival of the president and first lady, with cheers, applause, and hand gestures. The difference was that my reaction, unlike most, was negative.”

Drawing on his experience covering public officials, Ramirez said the incident felt more about controlling perception than security.

“Usually, law enforcement may monitor or intervene if there’s a disruption, but here there was no disruption at all. Simply expressing dissent in a public, cultural space drew the attention of security. It made it feel less like a matter of decorum and more like an effort to control the narrative around the president,” he said. “It’s about what happens when dissent is treated as disruption rather than a right.”

“The show hadn’t started. I threatened no one. Billy Flynn would have approved of the optics. The rest of us should be paying attention.”

Ramirez framed the incident as part of a broader constitutional concern, one that is plaguing the Trump-Vance administration as they continue to reject rules and normalcy set forth by other reserved presidents.

“Being singled out by security at a federally funded institution for expressing dissent shouldn’t be brushed off; it undermines the First Amendment,” he said, looking at it slightly distanced from it now. “Being of Cuban heritage, and a journalist, it’s a right I’m not willing to give up readily.”

“Publicly funded cultural institutions should allow visible dissent, even in politically charged moments,” he added. “Of course, I understand the need to manage disruptions during a performance, but that was not the case here.”

The themes of “Chicago”, a long-running satire about media manipulation and public perception, added another layer of irony to the experience, Ramirez explained.

“The satire truly leapt off the stage! A show about controlling the narrative, manipulating the press, and covering up truths by leaning on showmanship and distractions. The show is decades old, but could’ve been written today. We’re being razzle-dazzled daily and it’s getting harder to tell fact from fiction, no matter where you get your news.”

He, being gay, also acknowledged how hard it must have been for the performers on stage, assuming that at least some in the cast were also members of the LGBTQ community — and artists — two things Trump doesn’t always get along with.

“It was not lost on me that many of the actors on that stage, that the president and first lady presumably applauded, are members of the LGBTQ community which this administration has rolled back protections for under the guise of religious liberty and free speech, resulting in blatant discrimination.”

He pointed to a particular number that felt surreal given the circumstances.

“Its ‘Razzle Dazzle’ number celebrates keeping audiences off balance; at its climax, a massive American flag descends as the song celebrates blinding audiences to what is real. Watching that scene after being detained for a thumbs-down was surreal.”

Ramirez said the show’s closing lines were especially sharp given the presidential audience and what he just experienced.

“At the end of the show,

Velma says: ‘You know, a lot of people have lost faith in America.’

Roxie replies: ‘And for what America stands for.’

Velma: ‘But we are the living examples of what a wonderful country this is.’

Roxie: ‘So we’d just like to say thank you and God bless you.’

They had both just gotten away with murder!”

His closing lines, however, were a bit more pointed than “scintillating sinners” Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly’s were in the show.

“Democracy only works when citizens are allowed to boo,” he said. “Tuesday night at the Kennedy Center, ‘Chicago’ made that point better than I ever could.”

The Blade reached out to the Kennedy Center but did not receive a comment back.

Idaho Gov. Brad Little signed into law a bill that criminalizes transgender people for using bathrooms that align with their gender identity rather than their assigned sex at birth, including in private businesses. Little signed the bill Tuesday afternoon — just as demonstrators rallied on the Capitol steps in Boise for Transgender Day of Visibility.

The law takes effect July 1.

House Bill 752 allows the government to charge people who “knowingly and willfully” enter bathrooms that do not align with their assigned sex at birth with jail time, making this the most restrictive bathroom bill in the nation. The vote had no issue passing in the Republican supermajority-controlled legislature, with 54 ayes and 15 nays in the House and 28 ayes and 7 nays in the Senate.

The bill applies to government-owned buildings and places of public accommodation, including any business (either publicly or privately owned) or space that is open to the public and offers goods, services, or facilities. These include restaurants (bars, cafes), lodging (hotels, motels, inns), entertainment and recreational spaces (gyms, theaters, sports venues, pools), healthcare and service buildings (hospitals, clinics, professional offices), and transportation-related spaces (including airports and bus stations).

A first offense carries a misdemeanor, punishable by up to one year in prison. A second offense, or any additional offense within five years, is a felony, punishable by up to five years in prison.

The bill’s sponsor, Coeur d’Alene Republican Sen. Ben Toews, said it reflects the “common sense realities” that Idahoans have — despite the issue not being “common sense” enough to be included in the state Republican Party’s official platform.

Republican legislators have deemed this, and similar measures restricting bathroom access to a person’s sex at birth, a matter of “protecting privacy and safety,” according to a similar measure passed earlier this year. Yet this claim contradicts statements from officials working to protect safety, as well as available data on the matter — there is no evidence that trans individuals accessing gender-aligned bathrooms are a threat to safety or privacy.

This expansive and invasive legislative action appears to contradict what Gov. Brad Little says he and his party stand for. On his website, Little touts his efforts to remove red tape for Idahoans, saying they have “cut or simplified 95-percent of regulations” since 2019. Signing legislation that effectively requires policing who can use which bathroom runs counter to that goal — and, unlike the transgender bathroom bill, reducing government regulation is part of the party’s official platform.

“We believe the growth of government is unnecessary and has a negative impact on both the conduct of business and our individual lives,” the Idaho Republican Party platform reads. “We endorse the review of all government programs and encourage their assumption by private enterprise where appropriate and workable. Programs which are outside of government’s constitutional obligations, not cost effective, or have outlived their usefulness should be terminated.”

The Idaho Fraternal Order of Police President, Bryan Lovell, wrote a letter to the legislature that having the responsibility to check a person’s sex at birth fall to police “presents significant practical enforcement challenges for law enforcement officers in the field.”

“In many circumstances, there is no clear or reasonable way for officers to make that determination without engaging in questioning or investigative actions that could be viewed as invasive and inappropriate,” the letter said.

Sen. Ron Taylor, a Democrat from Hailey, said House Bill 752 is about discrimination. He said constituents told him they would move out of Idaho if it passed — because it would throw their transgender children in jail.

“Now maybe that’s what some of us want, is to chase a population that’s marginalized out of Idaho,” Taylor said. “But that’s not Idaho. Idaho was founded by a population that was marginalized.”

Idaho’s American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) went even farther to criticize the Little’s signature on House Bill 752, arguing the legislation does the opposite of its stated goal of reducing risks to the privacy and dignity of every Idahoan.

“The bill does nothing to address real criminal acts, such as sexual assault or voyeurism,” a statement from the organization founded in 1988 read. “As cisgender people who do not conform to rigid gender norms could face accusations, harassment, and arrest for using a public restroom.”

In addition to creating a criminal issue where there was none, the legislation opens up a Pandora’s box of litigation that taxpayers would ultimately have to pay for.

“When public institutions and local businesses are forced to engage in these expensive and unnecessary lawsuits, taxpayers and customers foot the bill,” the ACLU added.

Advocates for sexual health and gender freedom have called this legislation a full assault on transgender people’s right to exist in public, saying bills like this trigger harassment, increase violence against transgender people, and impose criminal penalties for not conforming to traditional gender roles.

Planned Parenthood Alliance Advocates Idaho called the bill “the most extreme anti-transgender bathroom ban in the nation.”

This is not the only anti-LGBTQ action the governor has taken. He signed a bill earlier that morning to fine cities for flying the LGBTQ+ pride flag, which, according to Idaho Capital Sun, was retaliatory action against Boise’s City Council for a vote last year declaring the pride flag and the organ donor flag as official flags — a workaround to a previous state flag ban the Legislature passed last year.

Boise Mayor Lauren McLean said the city had been flying the pride flag for a decade, but will remove it for the time being to prevent a fine that would “ultimately fall on the taxpayers of Boise to shoulder.”

“But let me be clear: Boise’s values have not changed, and they are not defined by any single action taken at the Statehouse,” McLean said after removing the Pride flag from the official pole.

This approach to LGBTQ poltics reflects a broader trend among Republicans in power in the state. In 2020, Idaho became the first state to ban transgender girls and women from competing on sports teams that align with their gender identity, which is currently being challenged in the United States Supreme Court. In 2023, state lawmakers made it a felony for doctors to provide gender-affirming health care to transgender youth. In 2024, lawmakers expanded the ban to apply to taxpayer funds and government property, forbidding Medicaid from covering gender-affirming care.

In Anthony Jones’s kitchen, all sorts of flags fly, including his own. Executive chef at award-winning restaurant Marcus DC, Jones has reached culinary heights (James Beard Award semifinalist for Emerging Chef, anyone?), yet he’s just getting started. 

Briefly stepping away from his award-winning station, Jones took a moment under a different set of lights. Recently, he temporarily gave up his post at the restaurant for a starring small-screen slot on the latest season of “Top Chef,” which debuted in March. (The show airs weekly on Bravo and Peacock). 

Before his strategic slice-and-dice competition, however, Jones, who identifies as gay, draws from his deep DMV roots. In the years before “Top Chef” and the top chef spot at Marcus, he was born and raised in Sunderland, Md., in southern Maryland, near the Chesapeake.

Early memories were steeped in afternoons on boats with his dad bonding over fishing, and wandering the garden of his great-grandparents spread with fresh vegetables and a few hogs. “It was Southern, old-school ethics and upbringing,” he said. “Family and food went hand in hand.” Weekends meant grabbing bushels of crabs, dad and grandma would cook and crack them. Family members would host fish fries for extra cash. In this seafood-heavy youth, Jones managed time to sneak in episodes of the “OG” Japanese “Iron Chef” show, which helped inspire him to pursue a career in the kitchen.

Jones moved to D.C. after graduating from college, ending up at lauded Restaurant Eve, and met famed chef Marcus Samuelson, who brought him to Miami to be part of the opening team for Red Rooster Overtown. After three years, Jones moved back to D.C., where he ran Dirty Habit, reinventing and reimagining the menu, integrating West African flavors and ingredients.

Samuelson, however, wouldn’t let a talent like Jones stay away for too long. Pulling Jones back into his orbit, Samuelson elevated Jones to help him open his namesake restaurant Marcus DC, which has been named a top-five restaurant by the Washington Post. Since then, Jones has been nominated as a semifinalist for the RAMMYs Rising Culinary Star in 2026 and won the Eater DC’s Rising Chef award in 2025.

Samuelson’s Marcus is a tour de force interpreting the Black Diaspora on the plate, from the American South to West Africa, along with his signature “Swedopian” touches. Yet it’s Jones who has deeply informed the plate, elevating his own story to date. Marcus DC is primarily a seafood restaurant, which serves Jones well.

“Where I’m from is seafood heavy, and as I’ve progressed in my career, I’ve moved away from meat.” Veggies and fish are hero dishes. His own dish, Mel’s Crab Rice, was not only lauded by the Washington Post, but is framed by his youth carrying home the crustaceans from Mel’s crab truck. It’s a bowl of Carolina rice, layered with pickled okra, uni béarnaise, and crab. Jones also points to a dish on the opening menu, rockfish and brassica, paying respect to a landmark D.C. institution, Ben’s Chili Bowl. Jones reverse engineered a favorite bowl of chili that’s seafood instead of meat forward, leveraging octopus and rockfish along with different riffs of cauliflower: showing his intellectual, creative, and cultural sides.

While “Top Chef” is showing Jones’s spotlight side, he also lets his identity show at work. “In the kitchen, I make sure we’re inclusive. We don’t tolerate discrimination. Everyone that’s here should feel confident to express themselves. There are so many different flags in the kitchen.”

Jones says that he didn’t fully express his gay identity until fairly recently. He felt reluctant coming out to certain family members, “you’re scared to tell them about being different,” he says, and while that anxiety ate at him, “I’m lucky and fortunate to have unconditional love and that weight off my shoulders.”

Today, “I’m me all the time, Monday to Sunday. I’m honest with people, and my staff is honest with me.”

“Being a chef is hard,” he says, “and being a chef of color is even more difficult.”

Yet his LGBTQ identity is a juggling act, he says. “I need to keep that balance, because once someone finds out something about you, their opinion can change, whether you want it or not.”

Being on a whole season of TV cooking competition, however, might mean millions more might have an opinion of him (Jones has appeared on TV already, on an episode of “Chopped”). To prepare, he says, “I’ve just kept a level head. It’s just an honor to be on top chef with amazing people happy to be there.”

Plus, this season is set in the Carolinas, and Jones attended  Johnson & Wales University in Charlotte, N.C. “It’s a full story of my life, now a monumental moment for me.”

Jones also recently was nominated for a James Beard Foundation Award. “JBF has been a north star, a dream for so long. I always had this goal on my wall.”

Being at the top spot at Marcus DC, making waves through his accolades, and cooking on Bravo means that Jones is highly visible. “I think that if someone has a similar background to me, and can see our story, trajectory, and success, they can have more ability to be themselves. This is my goal.”

Back at Marcus, Jones has plenty up his chef’s white’s sleeves. A new spring menu is in the works. He’ll be launching a new tasting menu “dining experience,” he says, and has plans to work on more events and collaborations with chefs and friends to bring in new talent and share the culinary wealth.