News
LGBTI migrants in Tijuana ‘seek opportunity to live’
Thousands of people in the Mexican city hope to enter the US

Melani Sofía Rosales Quiñones, a transgender woman from Guatemala City, was beaten, threatened and discriminated against in her country simply because of her gender identity (Washington Blade photo by Yariel Valdés González)
“They hit me with bats and sticks,” Melani now recalls. “They broke my jaw and left jaw bone. I was in a coma in the hospital for three days and 15 days later I had surgery to reconstruct my face. They put in plates and screws. It took me four months to recover.”
A year later the gangs, who are full of hate and violence in Latin America, took over their house and turned it into a stash house. Melani’s mother never accepted this and filed a harassment complaint against the so-called “gangs.”
“They called my mom and threatened her as she was leaving the police station,” says Melani. “They said she can’t play with them and they will kill my younger brother who is 15.”
Melani shared part of her life with the Washington Blade from a guest house in downtown Tijuana where LGBTI members of the migrant caravan who arrived in this border city weeks earlier receive temporary refuge. Melani and other LGBTI migrants in Tijuana all hope to seek asylum in the U.S., a nation in which they think they can live without fear and with economic prosperity.
The LGBTI migrants, like other members of the caravan, are now scattered along Mexico’s northern border. They were a small group that faced abuse and mistreatment while traveling with the caravan itself before arriving in Mexico. Today the LGBTI migrants are nothing more than small and vulnerable groups scattered in Tijuana, Baja California state and Nogales, another border town in Sonora state.

Crossing this wall and safely entering U.S. territory is the dream of the thousands of migrants who are stuck in Tijuana. They are only looking for an opportunity to live in the U.S. (Washington Blade photo by Yariel Valdés González)
Stories behind the American dream
It is not the first time that Melani has launched herself north in order to reach American soil. She “went up” to Tijuana in May of this year with another caravan, but another attack made her think twice. “I was very disappointed because Tijuana officials beat me when I went to the El Chaparral checkpoint,” she says. “I later went to the hospital and filed a complaint against the immigration officers.”
Melani returned to a small town between Guatemala and Mexico she says was “in no man’s land” with the hope that she could once again hit the road and seek the American dream at any moment. She was unable to return to Guatemala or Tijuana. She had almost become a hermit during that time. Melani, an extroverted and sociable girl, was living far away from people.
“I worked in a bakery and from there I went to my house without saying a word, without saying hello to anyone,” she adds.
Melani fled from a Guatemala, where violence is seen as a normal part of life and is worse for members of LGBTI communities. One report on the situation for LGBTI people in four Central American countries says they endure “insults, bribes, arbitrary detentions and physical attacks that often lead to murders, but they do not report them because of fear of reprisals.”
“LGBTI people live in fear and don’t depend on community support networks that help them deal with the violent scenarios in which they live,” reads the report.
The Observatory of Murdered Trans People notes 39 trans women were killed in Guatemala between January and July 2017. Guatemala has the sixth highest rate of trans murders out of any country in Latin America and the Caribbean.
Honduras’ National Commission for Human Rights says 40 LGBTI people have died between 2007 and May of this year. Cattrachas, a lesbian feminist network, indicates 288 LGBTI people have been killed in Honduras between 2009-2018.
Insecurity is not the only situation the Honduran LGBTI community faces. Infobae, an Argentina-based news website, once reported “there is no record of any trans person who has been hired by a private company or a government agency in Honduras.”
Amelia Frank-Vitale, an anthropologist at the University of Michigan who has spent more than a year living in Honduras studying issues related to deportation, migration and violence, confirmed to the Blade “people from the LGBTI community are exposed to all forms of violence that exists against any person in Honduras, which is mainly urban, young and poor.”
“But they are nevertheless discriminated against and stigmatized because of their sexual orientation and in many cases the government is absent on justice-related issues,” she added. “It is always more critical for the LGBTI community.”
It is this situation from which Alexis Rápalos and Solanyi, two identities that live inside the same robust 38-year-old body, fled.
Alexis was wearing a knit hat that covered a nearly shaved head when he spoke with the Blade.
He comes from a family with few resources and he revealed he has suffered the scourge of discrimination in the streets of his city, San Pedro Sula, which for four years was recognized as the world’s most dangerous city, since he was 10. He has lived alone since his mother died a year ago.
A tailor and a chef, he worked in a restaurant in his native country but he decided to join the caravan in search of a future with more security and a life without the harsh realities of rampant homophobia.
He left with nothing more than a pair of pants and a shirt in his backpack and joined the caravan at the Guatemala-Mexico border. “I was discovering friends in the caravan,” says Alexis. “And then the gay community. We came fighting, fighting many things because we are discriminated against, insulted constantly.”
“The road has been very hard,” he adds. “Sometimes we slept in very cold places, with storms. I had the flu with a horrible cough, people gave us medicine, clothes, thank God.”
They reached Tijuana by hitchhiking, and sometimes by bus while depending on charity groups to eat. “We arrived at the shelter that had been at the Benito Juárez Sports Complex, but we were in our own group. They treated us well with clothes, medicine and food,” he said, insisting he is thankful for the assistance he received while there.
Once at the shelter, where unsanitary conditions and overcrowding were a constant, they experienced homophobia that follows some of their fellow travelers and places them in an even worse situation than the rest of the migrants. Alexis says they were booed in food lines and there were times when they were not allowed to eat. The situation repeated itself in the cold outdoor showers where privacy was an unthinkable luxury.
He felt the harshness of the early morning cold while he and roughly 6,000 Central Americans were staying at the shelter that city officials set up. Alexis slept in the street because he didn’t have a tent to protect himself. The unusually heavy seasonal rains that soaked his meager belongings chilled him to the bone.
“In the (Benito Juárez) shelter we saw humiliations, criticisms and they even made us take down our gay flag,” says Bairon Paolo González Morena, a 27-year-old gay man from Guatemala. “We were discriminated against a lot. They told us we could not make the same line for food and they made us stand at the end of the line for the bathroom and here (at Enclave Caracol, a new shelter) they are treating us much better. They gave us our place. We have a separate bathroom and everything.”

LGBTI members of the caravan that arrived in Tijuana were housed at the Benito Juárez Sports Complex that had been converted into a shelter. They were discriminated against by their fellow migrants. The LGBTI migrants were forced to take down their gay flag. They were also not allowed into food lines and were the last ones to use public showers. (Washington Blade photo by Yariel Valdés González)
Bairon was a cross-dresser known as Kaira Paola at night and was a sex worker, which left him with many scars on his body. “I worked to provide food for my twin brother and younger brother,” he says. “My family there found out that I was gay. My stepmother discriminated against me and my dad did not support me and until this day I am fighting for my well-being.”
He lived alone and decided to join the caravan because he was constantly extorted for money. He was already working in a restaurant in Tuxpan in Veracruz state when the migrants reached Mexico, and he didn’t think twice about joining the caravan that Frank-Vitale says is “a civil disobedience movement against a global regime.”
“The caravan is the form that has been recognized as the way one can cross Mexico without being as exposed to criminal groups, corrupt authorities and without paying a smuggler to seek an opportunity to live,” she says.

Paolo González Morena, a 27-year-old gay man from Guatemala, was a sex worker in his country and was constantly extorted and mistreated because of his sexual orientation. (Washington Blade photo by Yariel Valdés González)
Waiting for asylum
A long line has formed outside Enclave Caracol, a community center located on First Street in downtown Tijuana that has welcomed this portion of the LGBTI caravan that arrived weeks after the first.
Under tents, the migrants organize themselves to distribute food they prepared themselves inside the building in which a wedding for several gay couples took place weeks earlier.
Nacho, who asked the Blade only to use his first name, works for Enclave Caracol. He said (he and his colleagues) are supporting “the community with food and water, (allowing them to) use the bathroom, Internet access, use of telephones that allows them to call practically any part of the world and at some moments it has functioned as a shelter.”

At same migrants who receive services at Enclave Caracol have cooked and organized their lives there. Donations from members of civil society in various cities have made it possible for Enclave Caracol to provide assistance to the dozens of migrants who are taking shelter there. (Washington Blade photo by Yariel Valdés González)
Enclave Caracol’s employees were the ones who cooked most of the food and did the cleaning when the center first provided aid to these displaced people. But Nacho says “people from the caravan have been getting involved bit by bit.”
“No one from Enclave has actually ever been in the kitchen,” he tells the Blade. “Over the last few weeks we have received donations and we have also been going to the markets for leftover fruits and vegetables and we clean them, process them and they’re cooked. They are organizing the cleaning and delivery of food themselves.”
Nacho said many civil society members in Los Angeles, San Diego and in Tijuana itself are donating money, food, cleaning products, disposable plates and cups to alleviate the tense situation that exists with the arrival of thousands of migrants, many of whom have not begun the political asylum process, to this urban border city. These civil society members are also volunteering their time.
“There is a very long list of people who are seeking asylum, who have been brought to the port of entry and are looking to following the correct process under international law,” says Frank-Vitale, noting the U.S. asylum process has been made intentionally difficult. “It has been said that they are going to have to wait up to two months to have the opportunity to make their case and this is truly a deadly humanitarian crisis for vulnerable people who have fled persecution, who live in the rain, the cold, outside all this time.”
“Sometimes one becomes hopeless because there is no stable place,” says Alexis, who remains hopeful. “We are going from here to there. They say that today they are going to bring us to another house to wait for lawyers who are going to help us with our papers.”
Melani is nevertheless more realistic when speaking about her asylum claim. “Our situation is a bit difficult because many people continue to arrive,” she says. “Donald Trump closed the border and the crossing is very complicated. This is why people who are going to the border are under stress.”
Frank-Vitale thinks the actual asylum system should be changed in order to recognize modern forms of violence and persecution to which people are exposed and especially LGBTI groups. “Taking all of this into account, yes, it is possible,” she says. “There are cases from Central America that perfectly enter the system, always and when they have a founded fear of their lives in their countries and many people have a very real fear.”
This fear, which has been with Melani for most of her life, will follow her to the U.S., because in “the previous caravan there was a girl named Roxana (Hernández) who died because she had HIV, but the autopsy revealed that she had been beaten by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officials.”
The original autopsy performed on Hernández, a trans Honduran woman with HIV who died in ICE custody in New Mexico on May 25, lists the cause of death as cardiac arrest. The second autopsy to which Melani referred shows Hernández was beaten, but does not identify who attacked her while she was in custody.
Hernández’s case has reached the U.S. Senate with three senators recently asking U.S. Customs and Border Protection to provide them with documents relating to her death.
In spite of all of these situations, in spite of a xenophobic president who commands the other side of the border, in spite of a powerful army positioned on the border, in spite of the long lines to be heard, in spite of the constant uncertainty, Bairon remains firm in his decision: “We are here. With everything we have given up, I will not return.”
We already know why.
Los Angeles
Forgetting queer pioneer Morris Kight is “impossible”: Advocates and friends share stories at remembrance
On Saturday, Nov. 22nd, Kight’s ashes were interred at Hollywood Forever Cemetery.
Over 50 people made their way to the rooftop chapel at Hollywood Forever Cemetery’s Gower Mausoleum on Saturday afternoon, taking in sweeping views of the city as a gentle wind began to envelop the space — a wind that some thought signaled the presence of Morris Kight. Hosted by local nonprofit AIDS Healthcare Foundation (AHF), this reception provided longtime friends, fellow activists, and anyone else impacted by Kight’s legacy with the opportunity to share some of their most memorable stories about the LGBTQ+ vanguard.

Kight died on January 19, 2003, after decades of leading peaceful, bold, and outspoken action against oppressive systems that targeted marginalized communities. As Congresswoman Maxine Waters declared at the remembrance event: “You have to be a hell of somebody to be memorialized 22 years after.”
Kight co-founded the Los Angeles LGBT Center in 1969, first known as the Gay Community Services Center, where so many queer youth and adults found the courage and empowerment to seek education, resources, and comfort. It became the place where they could fully embrace themselves.
At 19, AHF president Mark Weinstein found himself at the front steps of the Center, afraid but compelled. This is where his and Kight’s lives would intertwine, setting him on his own path of liberatory leadership. This first encounter and relationship “cemented” his identity, Weinstein told the crowd, after an arduous search for belonging and internal understanding.
The impact Kight had on Weinstein and innumerable other queer folks was not just a consequence of his work, but the purpose for it all. “We were his payment. We were his reward,” said Miki Jackson, Kight’s longtime friend and another instrumental voice in early LGBTQ+ movements. “Morris cared that we were loud enough, we were out enough, we were visible enough that a child in Kansas in elementary school would know about it. He cared about where people were wounded the most.”
Kight projected his voice in hopes it would reach those who were silenced, becoming the face of several important movements, including the Gay Liberation Front. He raised money for people with AIDS, co-founded the Stonewall Democratic Club, and pushed for L.A.’s first pride parade in 1970 — unabashedly fighting for the visibility of LGBTQ+ people as they were met with societal violence and rejection.

“The idea of forgetting a Morris Kight is basically impossible,” said Terry DeCrescenzo, one of the founders of the Gay Academic Union. She recounted fond memories with Kight, including a story tied with her roots of protesting. Together, they blocked the streets of Sunset and Larrabee and sang the civil rights anthem “We shall overcome.” At first, DeCrescenzo was in disbelief. “I thought, ‘I went to Catholic school for 17 years to sit on the sidewalk singing We shall overcome?’ And the answer is yes. He showed me a way of doing things — of approaching life — that I didn’t dream I was capable of. So I thank you, Morris. I love you. I miss you.”
Kight’s ashes have been officially interred at Hollywood Forever Cemetery, granting him a final resting place. In life, he built sites of belonging for queer people, and today, this ground joins a tender catalog of spaces that contains a trace of what his loved ones hope he is remembered for: the fierce kindness with which he led his life. His endless stories. His desire to be with and fight for the people he loved.
Saturday’s remembrance event also offered a moment of deep reflection for the future of local queer activism. “We’re what we have left,” said Jackson, a queer elder who marched alongside Kight in the country’s early days of LGBTQ+ protesting — and who paved a path for younger advocates like Congressman and Equality Caucus Chair Mark Takano to continue the fight. “May we honor Morris by carrying his fire forward until every LGBTQ+ person in this country can live safely, open and unafraid,” said Takano.
Los Angeles
The Los Angeles LGBT Center has reopened and upgraded its community tech hub
The David Bohnett CyberCenter provides free access to important tech resources for LGBTQ+ community members.
On Thursday, community leaders and advocates gathered at the Los Angeles LGBT Center for a joyous ribbon-cutting event that ushered in the organization’s revamped tech hub. For 27 years, the organization’s David Bohnett CyberCenter has provided local residents a safe space to utilize computers, printers, scanners, and attend workshop opportunities to build their tech literacy skills, stay connected, discover joy, and research important opportunities.
Here, individuals can safely surf the web, complete online benefits and services forms, apply for jobs, as well as make progress towards educational programs. It’s a safe space where LGBTQ+ community members can reliably use technology that can provide them with vital avenues into improving and living their lives.
The CyberCenter is funded by the David Bohnett Foundation, which provides grants to various LGBTQ+ initiatives and social programs nationally in order to improve equity for different marginalized communities. In 1998, the foundation established its first tech hub at the Los Angeles LGBT Center, so that queer community members would not be shut away as technological advancements made online access increasingly necessary. “The idea was simple but urgent,” Bohnett said at yesterday’s ceremony. “[It was meant] to ensure that LGBTQ+ people had access to the technology that could open doors to education, employment, and connection.”

Yesterday, this CyberCenter’s updated facilities were welcomed with warm applause, cheer, and a celebratory banner that was cut by Bohnett himself. It marked an evolving growth towards the foundation and the Center’s shared commitment to the hub’s initial promise: to guarantee equitable technological access to the county’s queer residents.
“Our community members regularly share how missing even one piece of access—a computer, a quiet place to work, a stable connection—can stall their progress,” said Sydney Rogers, senior program manager at the Trans Wellness Center. “For so many, technology isn’t just a tool—it’s the gateway to opportunity. Résumés, job searches, online trainings, interview prep—all of it depends on having access to reliable equipment and an environment where people feel safe and supported.”
For Bohnett, what began as a room with a “handful of computers” has grown into over 60 CyberCenters nationwide — and they are all “rooted in the belief that digital access is not a luxury, but a lifeline,” said Bohnett. “Every time I’m back here, I’m reminded that the Los Angeles LGBT Center was the first to bring that vision to life.”
The David Bohnett CyberCenter is open from Tuesdays to Thursdays, from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m., and from 2-5 p.m. More information about its location and services can be found here.
West Hollywood
From nickname to reality, the Rainbow District is made official by the City of West Hollywood
The mile along Santa Monica Boulevard from N. Doheny Drive to N. La Cienega Boulevard welcomes residents and visitors to come as they are
Even in today’s political climate, we will not be hidden.
The vibrant stretch on Santa Monica Blvd of over 50 local businesses, representing the full spectrum of LGBTQ+ expression, from N Doheny Dr to N La Cienega, has had the loving nickname of the Rainbow District for decades. Well, now it’s official. From nightlife to restaurants to community organizations, the City of West Hollywood has formally designated the space as such, honoring the neighborhood’s legacy as a safe haven for the queer community and beyond.
In addition to making the name official, the Rainbow District is being launched with a full range of social media, including Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook, keeping the residents and visitors updated on all upcoming events and happenings in the neighborhood.
Long known as a beacon of acceptance, inclusion, and visibility, where everyone is welcome, this iconic mile-long corridor is now formally recognized for what it has always been: a place where people from every walk of life can come together, be themselves, and celebrate the beauty of diversity.
City of West Hollywood Mayor Chelsea Lee Byers states, “For generations, the City of West Hollywood’s Rainbow District has been a place where LGBTQ+ people take their first steps into living openly, where the warm embrace of community is found at every turn, and where the joy of living out, loud, and proud fills the streets. The City’s official designation of the Rainbow District honors both the legacy and the future of this vibrant neighborhood, home to beloved entertainment venues, bars, and restaurants that have long served as cornerstones of LGBTQ+ life. Today, the Rainbow District is more alive than ever, and it will always stand as a beacon of hope, pride, and belonging and as a reminder that everyone deserves a place to celebrate joy, to be seen, and to be supported.”
The Rainbow District officially joins a nationwide list of iconic LGBTQ+ landmarks. West Hollywood will not be hidden amid political backlash and will continue to protect queer spaces, uplift queer voices, and foster a safe and joyful environment for all.
“This designation is not only a celebration, but it also serves as a promise,” said Visit West Hollywood President & CEO Tom Kiely. “A promise to keep LGBTQ+ spaces visible, valued, and vibrant for generations to come. As the Rainbow District continues to evolve, it will remain a place where locals and visitors alike can connect through culture, creativity, and community. The City’s formal designation affirms its significance and highlights The Rainbow District as the ultimate playground for travelers seeking a unique, inclusive, and authentic experience.”
The Rainbow District will be home to upcoming community events that include:
- Winter Market & Ice Skating Rink — December 2025
- Go-Go Dancer Appreciation Day — March 2026
- Harvey Milk Day — May 22, 2026
- WeHo Pride Weekend & the OUTLOUD Music Festival at WeHo Pride — June 5–7, 2026
Follow the Rainbow District on socials to discover local happenings, support small businesses, and be part of a neighborhood that celebrates every person for exactly who they are.
Instagram: @RainbowDistrictWeHo TikTok: @RainbowDistrictWeHo
Facebook: facebook.com/rainbowdistrictweho More Info: visitwesthollywood.com/rainbowdistrict
West Hollywood
West Hollywood’s AIDS Monument preserves the pain and power of people lost to the crisis
STORIES: The AIDS Monument is now available to view at West Hollywood Park, 15 years after its conception.
It was 1985, at the height of the AIDS crisis, when Irwin Rappaport came out as gay. As he came to terms with his identity, he witnessed people around him grow weaker: their faces becoming gaunt, painful lesions developing on their bodies. Five years later, he began volunteering as a young lawyer at the Whitman-Walker Clinic, a community health hotspot in Washington, D.C. that created the first AIDS hotline in the city, opened homes for patients with AIDS, and distributed materials that promoted safe sex.
The work being done at the clinic was instrumental, essential, and deeply painful. “When you see that sickness and experience that death among your friends and people you know, and when you’re writing wills for people who are much too young in ordinary times — it has an impact,” Rappaport told the Blade. “And even though in 1996 we saw life-saving medications come around, you never forget the sense of fear that permeates your life. The sense of loss.”
Determined to honor and share the legacies of people who died from AIDS, Rappaport joined the Foundation for the AIDS Monument (FAM) board to work towards the organization’s goal of creating a physical monument dedicated to memorializing these histories. FAM treasurer Craig Dougherty first conceived of this project in 2010 and, after 15 years, STORIES: The AIDS Monument is now available to the public for viewing.

Created in collaboration with the City of West Hollywood, STORIES: The AIDS Monument is composed of 147 vertical bronze pillars known as “traces.” Designed by artist Daniel Tobin, 30 of these traces are engraved with words like: activism, isolation, compassion, and loss, which correlate to the over 125 audio stories collected and archived on the foundation’s website. This multimodal storytelling allows people who come across the monument to engage more intimately with the people represented by these physical pillars.
At nighttime, lights transform the monument into a candlelight vigil, providing a warm glow to a wanderer’s journey through the structure.
When people were able to walk around the traces at Sunday’s grand opening ceremony at the Pacific Design Center, the last remnants of the weekend’s rainstorm created a kind of “spiritual” and reverent atmosphere for those gathering, according to Rappaport. “I think there’s a certain peacefulness and serenity about the design, an opportunity for reflection,” he continued. “For some, it may bring back incredibly painful memories. It might bring back wonderful times with friends who are no longer here. It might remind them of their own caregiving or activism, or the sense of community that they felt in striving with others to get more attention to the disease.”
Now that the monument has been built, FAM has passed the mantle of management and programming to One Institute, a nonprofit that engages community members with queer history through panels, screenings, and other educational initiatives. One Institute plans to host monthly docent tours, art installations, and other special events during various LGBTQ+ national awareness days, including the upcoming World AIDS Day in December.
Rappaport also hopes to do outreach with local schools, so that young students are able to engage with the monument, learn about the people who were affected by the AIDS crisis, and interact with the ripples of transformation that this time period sparked in politics, research, the arts, and within society. “For younger people, I think [this is] an invitation for them to understand how they can organize about issues that they care about,” Rappaport said. “[So] they can see what the HIV and AIDS community did as a model for what they can do to organize and change the world, change culture, change law, change politics, change whatever they think needs to be changed. Because we had no other choice, right?”
Japan
Japan’s first female prime minister reluctant to advance LGBTQ+ rights
Sanae Takaichi became country’s head of government last month
Sanae Takaichi last month became Japan’s first female prime minister after she secured the Liberal Democratic Party’s leadership and both chambers of the Diet confirmed her.
She now leads a minority government after forming a coalition with the right-leaning Japan Innovation Party, following Komeito’s decision to end its 26-year partnership with the LDP. Her rise marks a historic break in Japanese politics, but the question remains whether she will advance the rights of Japan’s LGBTQ+ community?
Despite the milestone her election represents, Takaichi’s record on gender issues offers little indication of progressive change.
She has long emphasized “equality of opportunity” over structural reforms and has opposed measures that include allowing married couples to use separate surnames, a policy many women say would ease workplace discrimination. During her leadership bid Takaichi pledged to elevate women’s representation in government to Nordic levels, yet she appointed only two women to her 19-member Cabinet. Takaichi has also resisted efforts to modernize the Imperial Household Law to permit female succession, reinforcing her reputation as a conservative on women’s rights.
Takaichi’s stance on LGBTQ+ rights has been similarly cautious.
In a 2023 Diet budget committee session, she said there should be “no prejudice against sexual orientation or gender identity,” yet described extending marriage rights to same-sex couples as an “extremely difficult issue.”
Her earlier record is consistent.
In 2021, she opposed an LGBTQ+-inclusive anti-discrimination bill that members of her own party, arguing its wording was too vague.
Even after becoming LDP leader in October 2025, she reiterated her opposition to marriage equality and emphasized traditional family values. Takaichi highlighted that Article 24 defines marriage as being based on “the mutual consent of both sexes” and frames the institution around “the equal rights of husband and wife,” language she argues leaves no constitutional room for extending marriage rights to same-sex couples.
While her rhetoric avoids overt hostility, her record suggests limited appetite for the structural reforms sought by Japan’s LGBTQ+ community.
A series of landmark court rulings has built escalating pressure for national reform.
On March 17, 2021, the Sapporo District Court ruled that denying same-sex couples the legal benefits of marriage violated the constitution’s equality clause. In May 2023, the Nagoya District Court similarly declared the ban unconstitutional, with a subsequent decision from the Fukuoka District Court reaffirming Japan’s current legal framework clashes with constitutional equality principles.
The momentum peaked on Oct. 30, 2024, when the Tokyo High Court found the marriage ban incompatible with guarantees of equality and individual dignity.
Japan remains the only G7 country without legal recognition of same-sex couples.
Akira Nishiyama, a spokesperson for the Japan Alliance for LGBT Legislation, noted to the Los Angeles Blade that in leadership surveys the group conducted within the LDP in 2021 and again in 2025, Takaichi offered only a cautious position on reforming Japan’s legal gender recognition law. When asked whether she supported easing the requirements under the Act on Special Cases in Handling Gender Status for Persons with Gender Identity Disorder, she responded that “multifaceted and careful discussion is necessary,” avoiding any commitment to substantive change.
Nishiyama added the legal landscape has already shifted.
In October 2023, the Supreme Court ruled that the law’s sterilization requirement for legal gender recognition is unconstitutional, and several family courts have since struck down the appearance requirement on similar grounds. She urged the Takaichi administration to act quickly by amending the statute to remove these provisions, along with other elements long criticized as human rights violations.
“[Prime Minister] Takaichi has stated that ‘careful discussion is necessary’ regarding amendments to ‘Act on Special Cases in Handling Gender Status for Persons with Gender Identity Disorder’ and the enactment of anti-discrimination laws based on Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity (SOGI),” noted Nishiyama. “However, as indicated in Candidate (at that time) Takaichi’s responses to our survey, if she considers issues related to SOGI to be human rights issues, then she has to work hard to advance legal frameworks to address these issues.”
“For example, regarding the government’s announcement that they will consider whether same-sex couples could be included or not in the 130 laws concerning common-law marriages couples, [Prime Minister] Takaichi responded to our survey that ‘the government should continue to advance its consideration,’” she added. “As per this response, the Takaichi Cabinet should continue deliberating on this matter and ensure that same-sex couples are included in each relevant law.”
Takeharu Kato, an advocate for marriage equality who spoke to the Blade in a personal capacity, urged observers not to view Takaichi’s appointment solely through a negative lens.
He acknowledged she holds deeply conservative views within the LDP and has openly opposed marriage equality, but noted several aspects of her background could leave room for movement.
“She is Japan’s first female prime minister in history. Furthermore, she does not come from a political family background but rather from an ordinary household,” said Kato. “She also has an unusual career path, having graduated from a local university and worked as a television news anchor before entering politics.”
“Additionally, while her husband is a member of the Diet, he became partially paralyzed due to a cerebral infarction, and she has been caring for him,” he further noted. “She possesses several minority attributes like these, and depending on our future efforts, there is a possibility she could change her stance on same-sex marriage. It could also be said that, as a woman navigating the conservative Liberal Democratic Party, she has deliberately emphasized conservative attitudes to appeal to her base of right-wing supporters.”
Kato stressed that “having reached the pinnacle as prime minister, it cannot be said she (Takaichi) has no potential to change.”
“We need not alter the strategy we have pursued thus far,” Kato told the Blade. “However, we believe some fine-tuning is necessary, such as refining our messaging to resonate with those holding more conservative values.”
Los Angeles
This queer, Latine-led organization is protecting residents against SNAP cuts and immigration raids
The weeks-long delay in SNAP benefits left food insecure residents stranded. Community centers like Mi Centro worked to help them.
Light rain and mist loomed over the quiet Boyle Heights Neighborhood on Friday morning as residents made their way towards a free farmer’s market at Mi Centro, a community center on South Clarence Street. There, they were greeted with a warm“buenos días” by program coordinator Norma Sánchez and guided into an adjacent room with crates of fresh produce and a table with mental health resources.
Created in collaboration with team members from both the Los Angeles LGBT Center and the Latino Equality Alliance, Mi Centro doubles as a hub for information and resources as well as a sanctuary of respite and comfort for its Latine community members. It provides immigration services, legal clinics, housing rights panels, and a monthly free farmers’ market. This November, Mi Centro has organized an additional market with the support of collaborating organizations, including food justice ministry Seeds of Hope, to step up for community members after SNAP benefits were cut at the beginning of the month.

Combined with the increased presence of federal immigration agents in the county since June, this cut in essential funding has created additional strain for local Latine community members when it comes to accessing food and feeling safe when stepping outside. For staff members at Mi Centro, these issues impact the livelihoods and safety of the people and spaces most familiar and important to them. “This is the community where my family immigrated to,” Caín Andrade, Mi Centro’s program manager, told the Blade. “Now I feel like it’s not only my duty, but my pleasure and my privilege to come back to the same community and help.”
At Friday’s market, Andrade noted that it yielded one of the “biggest turnouts” despite the weather, and explained that Mi Centro has seen a steady increase in the need for food and resource assistance in the last couple of months. Several community members showed up to access groceries and look through the other resource tables at the market. One of these tables included information about benefits and insurance enrollment, and another included pamphlets from local health nonprofit QueensCare about free health screenings. All written materials were provided in both Spanish and English, and Sánchez made sure to speak with each resident about their needs.

“We really curated Mi Centro as a community center where people can feel like they belong,” said Andrade. “[We] provide a space that feels a little bit more like home to them: that’s warm, that’s got flowers and art, a couch to sit on, and just have somebody that listens to you — somebody that can speak Spanish and give them the opportunity to articulate what they’re going through in their language. We can see the sighs of relief.”
Andrade also emphasizes the intergenerational teamwork that happens at Mi Centro: a synergy that is guided by “young, queer Latino community” voices that have been embedded within the neighborhood. Mi Centro’s queer staff are deeply shaped by these communities that have long been home to them — and they, in turn, are shaping these spaces to be more inclusive: where LGBTQ+ visibility is embraced and cherished.
With a team that “represents the entire rainbow,” residents see the advocates working to support them as “our kids, our nephews, our grandkids,” Andrade said. “We are equally protective of them. We want to make sure that they are being given access to everything that other communities might have easy access to.”
Mi Centro’s next free farmer’s market takes place on Friday, Nov. 21st. More information can be found here.
Politics
Honoring Stonewall: A conversation with Senator Toni Atkins on the past, present, and future of Pride
As we commemorate the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising, the Stonewall Democratic Club honors leaders like Senator Toni Atkins, whose lifelong commitment to equality and public service reflects the enduring legacy and ongoing promise of Stonewall
As we rapidly approach the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising – an inarguably paramount moment that fueled a national movement for LGBTQ civil rights – the Stonewall Democratic Club continues to carry into the future the spirit of that rebellion through advocacy and political action. This milestone also provides our community with an opportunity to reflect on the leaders who have carried that spirit forward, including Senator Toni Atkins, whose decades of public service have been shaped by a resounding commitment to equality and representation of marginalized communities. Her journey, from growing up in rural poverty to becoming one of California’s most impactful legislative leaders, embodies the progress made since Stonewall and the work that still lies ahead for us.
As our community and our country approach the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising, how does that milestone resonate with you personally, politically, or otherwise?
Personally, I came out at age 17 in a very conservative rural community. I didn’t see other people like me, and I didn’t believe society was built for someone like me. So I am simply grateful to have been part of our movement for civil rights for my LGBTQ+ community. Politically, we have made tremendous gains, and we now face a very intentional and serious backlash. Our work and political engagement are more important than ever.
In your opinion, what do you believe was the most significant achievement that came from Stonewall? What unfinished business do we still have to work on?
The most significant achievement was visibility – seeing our collective strength for the first time.
Today, we must fight to regain the ability to serve openly in the military, protect marriage equality, and hold our hard-won ground. We must continue educating allies and families about the lives and experiences of nonbinary and transgender community members. In many ways, we are refighting some of the same battles.
We also have to work in partnership with other marginalized communities on issues beyond civil rights – income inequality, access to healthcare (including gender-affirming care), educational opportunities, and affordability. The struggle for justice is interconnected.
How do you view the connection between the activism of that time in our country and the modern policy work of the California Legislature?
Activism and organizing were essential then, and they remain essential today. We still have to strategize, organize, and take action. That hasn’t changed.
You have had a long and devoted career in public service in California. What first inspired you to get into politics? How have your own experiences as a queer woman shaped your journey along the way?
Our stories – every one of them – matter. My history has shaped every policy issue I’ve worked on. I grew up in a working-poor family. My parents, three siblings, and I lived in a four-room house with no indoor plumbing. We carried water from a nearby spring to drink, cook with, and bathe. We lacked consistent healthcare. My father was a lead miner; my mother worked as a seamstress in a factory.
Coming out as a lesbian at a young age was another defining part of my story. All of this influenced my work on housing, healthcare, LGBTQ rights, the environment, and labor protections. I saw firsthand how the mines destroyed the environment, how little safety, benefits, or protections my father had, and how families like mine struggled. Much of my political work has been about empowerment – for myself, my family, and others facing similar obstacles.
I entered politics by helping my mentor, Christine Kehoe, get elected to the San Diego City Council in 1993 – the first openly LGBTQ candidate elected to that body. Working with her at City Hall showed me the difference we could make when we had a seat at the table. That was my motivation – not only for the LGBTQ community but for all marginalized communities, working families, and women. I am forever grateful to Chris for giving me a chance to serve.
What moments in your legislative or leadership roles shine brightest in your mind as being most impactful to you?
So many- the Gender Recognition Act, Proposition 1, which I authored to enshrine abortion and contraception into the California Constitution, and Proposition 3, which did the same for marriage equality. The Earned Income Tax Credit (EITC) for working individuals and families. Creating a permanent source of funds for affordable housing. The California Dream For All downpayment assistance loan for people to buy their first home. Support for funding Prep and for community clinics and Planned Parenthood. Increased funding for childcare for working families and increased paid family leave! So many issues and so much good can be done through public policy and budget actions. That is the importance of the political work of the LGBTQ community and our allies!
As the former Speaker and as President ProTem – I have had the ability not just to sit at that table but to actually set the agenda. I’m grateful and honored for the opportunity.
Over the years you have spent in politics, how has your sense of “why I do this work” evolved, particularly in relation to our queer community and broader social justice aims?
I have seen how strategy, organizing, fundraising, and activism empower us to influence policy and budget decisions rooted in shared values. Relationships also matter – the ones we build, the conversations we have, and the listening we do. Those connections make us better and more effective.
Decades ago, we relied heavily on allies because we didn’t have seats at the table ourselves. We must never forget that. There is no shortcut for the crucial, ongoing conversations needed to continue advancing equality.
How would you describe the state of queer rights and representation in California today?
California’s values – in the public and in the Legislature – largely reflect strong support for our community. Still, especially regarding trans rights, we must keep engaging allies and others about who we are as nonbinary and transgender individuals. That is the next frontier of our civil-rights journey.
And our LGBTQ Caucus has never been larger or more effective. Many members, as I once was, are now in positions of real power and influence, moving forward policies that support our community.
West Hollywood
West Hollywood invests $1 million to build LGBTQ+ Olympic hospitality house
Pride House LA/WeHo will be an interactive space for queer athletes and allies to celebrate the 2028 Summer Games together.
The first-ever Olympic hospitality house began with humble roots in 1992: a tent pitched on the Port of Barcelona for athletes to gather with their families. Since then, they transformed into fixtures of several major sporting events, with hopes of fostering belonging and safety for athletes of various cultural backgrounds.
It wasn’t until 2010 that the first LGBTQ+ hospitality house, the Pride House, appeared during the Winter Olympics in Vancouver. Over the years, its existence and visibility have faced barriers. During the 2014 Sochi Winter Olympic Games in Russia, Pride House International was denied from organizing its safe hub. The rejection was a blow to the visibility and safety that the organization was trying to promote and create for queer athletes. But this didn’t go unnoticed. International fans demonstrated quiet resistance, hosting remote Pride Houses in support of the Olympians who were barred from openly communing and celebrating together.
As Los Angeles prepares to host the Summer Olympics in July 2028, Pride House is coming back stronger than ever. In early October, the West Hollywood city council approved an agreement that would allocate $1 million to sponsor Pride House LA/WeHo as they prepare to build a temporary structure at West Hollywood Park for the 2028 Games. For 17 days, vibrant LGBTQ+ sports programming will fill the park’s grassy knolls.
Pride House LA/WeHo CEO Michael Ferrera detailed at a Nov. 1st Out Athlete Fund fundraising event that the team plans to build a concert stage to seat over 6,000 people. There will also be a museum that will take viewers through 100 years of queer Olympics history, viewing areas for people to watch the games, and a private athlete village for queer Olympians. “The dream of that is — imagine you’re an athlete from a country where you can’t be out,” said Ferrera. “You come here, and you can be safe and sound.”

As outlined in the city council agreement and stated by Ferrera, most of the programming will be free and open to the public, and in the heart of a neighborhood that many of the county’s queer residents recognize as their safe haven. “We’re centering this important event in West Hollywood Park where our community has come together for decades in celebration, in protest, to support each other and to live our lives,” Pride House LA/WeHo CEO Michael Ferrera wrote to the Blade. “There is no place that is more representative of inclusion and safe spaces.”
The City of West Hollywood is promoting this inclusion further by asking for local community members to voice their perspectives on the formation of Pride House LA/WeHo at West Hollywood Park. On Monday, a community conversation will take place at Plummer Park to encourage residents to help shape the cultural programming that will take place in the summer of 2028. Another conversation will take place on Nov. 21st at the City’s 40th anniversary of Cityhood event.
“We couldn’t do this without the generosity and partnership of the city of West Hollywood,” Pride House LA/WeHo marketing co-lead Haley Caruso wrote to the Blade. “We are so happy to help bring the Olympic spirit to West Hollywood while also providing the community a safe and entertaining venue to enjoy the Games.”
Head to PrideHouseLAWeho.org for more information
President Donald Trump on Wednesday signed a bill that reopens the federal government.
Six Democrats — U.S. Reps. Jared Golden (D-Maine), Marie Gluesenkamp Perez (D-Wash.), Adam Gray (D-Calif.), Don Davis (D-N.C.), Henry Cuellar (D-Texas), and Tom Suozzi (D-N.Y.) — voted for the funding bill that passed in the U.S. House of Representatives. Two Republicans — Thomas Massie (R-Ky.) and Greg Steube (R-Fla.) — opposed it.
The 43-day shutdown is over after eight Democratic senators gave in to Republicans’ push to roll back parts of the Affordable Care Act. According to CNBC, the average ACA recipient could see premiums more than double in 2026, and about one in 10 enrollees could lose a premium tax credit altogether.
These eight senators — U.S. Sens. Catherine Cortez Masto (D-Nev.), Dick Durbin (D-Ill.), John Fetterman (D-Pa.), Maggie Hassan (D-N.H.), Tim Kaine (D-Va.), Angus King (I-Maine), Jacky Rosen (D-Nev.), and Jeanne Shaheen (D-N.H.) — sided with Republicans to pass legislation reopening the government for a set number of days. They emphasized that their primary goal was to reopen the government, with discussions about ACA tax credits to continue afterward.
None of the senators who supported the deal are up for reelection.
King said on Sunday night that the Senate deal represents “a victory” because it gives Democrats “an opportunity” to extend ACA tax credits, now that Senate Republican leaders have agreed to hold a vote on the issue in December. (The House has not made any similar commitment.)
The government’s reopening also brought a win for Democrats’ other priorities: Arizona Congresswoman Adelita Grijalva was sworn in after a record-breaking delay in swearing in, eventually becoming the 218th signer of a discharge petition to release the Epstein files.
This story is being updated as more information becomes available.
El Salvador
El Salvador: el costo del silencio oficial ante la violencia contra la comunidad LGBTQ+
Entidades estatales son los agresores principales
En El Salvador, la violencia contra la población LGBTQ+ no ha disminuido: ha mutado. Lo que antes se expresaba en crímenes de odio, hoy se manifiesta en discriminación institucional, abandono y silencio estatal. Mientras el discurso oficial evita cualquier referencia a inclusión o diversidad, las cifras muestran un panorama alarmante.
Según el Informe 2025 sobre las vulneraciones de los derechos humanos de las personas LGBTQ en El Salvador, elaborado por el Observatorio de Derechos Humanos LGBTIQ+ de ASPIDH, con el apoyo de Hivos y Arcus Foundation, desde el 1 de enero al 22 de septiembre de 2025 se registraron 301 denuncias de vulneraciones de derechos.
El departamento de San Salvador concentra 155 de esas denuncias, reflejando la magnitud del problema en la capital.
Violencia institucionalizada: el Estado como principal agresor
El informe revela que las formas más recurrentes de violencia son la discriminación (57 por ciento), seguida de intimidaciones y amenazas (13 por ciento), y agresiones físicas (10 por ciento). Pero el dato más inquietante está en quiénes ejercen esa violencia.
Los cuerpos uniformados, encargados de proteger a la población, son los principales perpetradores:
- 31.1 por ciento corresponde a la Policía Nacional Civil (PNC),
- 26.67 por ciento al Cuerpo de Agentes Municipales (CAM),
- 12.22 por ciento a militares desplegados en las calles bajo el régimen de excepción.
A ello se suma un 21.11 por ciento de agresiones cometidas por personal de salud pública, especialmente por enfermeras, lo que demuestra que la discriminación alcanza incluso los espacios que deberían garantizar la vida y la dignidad.
Loidi Guardado, representante de ASPIDH, comparte con el Los Angeles Blade un caso que retrata la cotidianidad de estas violencias:
“Una enfermera en la clínica VICITS de San Miguel, en la primera visita me reconoció que la persona era hijo de un promotor de salud y fue amable. Pero luego de realizarle un hisopado cambió su actitud a algo despectiva y discriminativa. Esto le sucedió a un hombre gay.”
Este tipo de episodios reflejan un deterioro en la atención pública, impulsado por una postura gubernamental que rechaza abiertamente cualquier enfoque de inclusión, y tacha la educación de género como una “ideología” a combatir.
El discurso del Ejecutivo, que se opone a toda iniciativa con perspectiva de diversidad, ha tenido consecuencias directas: el retroceso en derechos humanos, el cierre de espacios de denuncia, y una mayor vulnerabilidad para quienes pertenecen a comunidades diversas.
El miedo, la desconfianza y el exilio silencioso
El estudio también señala que el 53.49 por ciento de las víctimas son mujeres trans, seguidas por hombres gays (26.58 por ciento). Sin embargo, la mayoría de las agresiones no llega a conocimiento de las autoridades.
“En todos los ámbitos de la vida —salud, trabajo, esparcimiento— las personas LGBT nos vemos intimidadas, violentadas por parte de muchas personas. Sin embargo, las amenazas y el miedo a la revictimización nos lleva a que no denunciemos. De los casos registrados en el observatorio, el 95.35 por ciento no denunció ante las autoridades competentes”, explica Guardado.
La organización ASPIDH atribuye esta falta de denuncia a varios factores: miedo a represalias, desconfianza en las autoridades, falta de sensibilidad institucional, barreras económicas y sociales, estigma y discriminación.
Además, la ausencia de acompañamiento agrava la situación, producto del cierre de numerosas organizaciones defensoras por falta de fondos y por las nuevas normativas que las obligan a registrarse como “agentes extranjeros”.
Varias de estas organizaciones —antes vitales para el acompañamiento psicológico, legal y educativo— han migrado hacia Guatemala y Costa Rica ante la imposibilidad de operar en territorio salvadoreño.
Educación negada, derechos anulados
Mónica Linares, directora ejecutiva de ASPIDH, lamenta el deterioro de los programas educativos que antes ofrecían una oportunidad de superación para las personas trans:
“Hubo un programa del ACNUR que lamentablemente, con todo el cierre de fondos que hubo a partir de las declaraciones del presidente Trump y del presidente Bukele, pues muchas de estas instancias cerraron por el retiro de fondos del USAID.”
Ese programa —añade— beneficiaba a personas LGBTQ+ desde la educación primaria hasta el nivel universitario, abriendo puertas que hoy permanecen cerradas.
Actualmente, muchas personas trans apenas logran completar la primaria o el bachillerato, en un sistema educativo donde la discriminación y el acoso escolar siguen siendo frecuentes.
Organizaciones en resistencia
Las pocas organizaciones que aún operan en el país han optado por trabajar en silencio, procurando no llamar la atención del gobierno. “Buscan pasar desapercibidas”, señala Linares, “para evitar conflictos con autoridades que las ven como si no fueran sujetas de derechos”.
Desde el Centro de Intercambio y Solidaridad (CIS), su cofundadora Leslie Schuld coincide. “Hay muchas organizaciones de derechos humanos y periodistas que están en el exilio. Felicito a las organizaciones que mantienen la lucha, la concientización. Porque hay que ver estrategias, porque se está siendo silenciado, nadie puede hablar; hay capturas injustas, no hay derechos.”
Schuld agrega que el CIS continuará apoyando con un programa de becas para personas trans, con el fin de fomentar su educación y autonomía económica. Sin embargo, admite que las oportunidades laborales en el país son escasas, y la exclusión estructural continúa.
Matar sin balas: la anulación de la existencia
“En efecto, no hay datos registrados de asesinatos a mujeres trans o personas LGBTIQ+ en general, pero ahora, con la vulneración de derechos que existe en El Salvador, se está matando a esta población con la anulación de esta.”, reflexiona Linares.
Esa “anulación” a la que se refiere Linares resume el panorama actual: una violencia que no siempre deja cuerpos, pero sí vacíos. La negación institucional, la falta de políticas públicas, y la exclusión social convierten la vida cotidiana en un acto de resistencia para miles de salvadoreños LGBTQ+.
En un país donde el Ejecutivo ha transformado la narrativa de derechos en una supuesta “ideología”, la diversidad se ha convertido en una amenaza política, y los cuerpos diversos, en un campo de batalla. Mientras el gobierno exalta la “seguridad” como su mayor logro, la población LGBTQ+ vive una inseguridad constante, no solo física, sino también emocional y social.
El Salvador, dicen los activistas, no necesita más silencio. Necesita reconocer que la verdadera paz no se impone con fuerza de uniformados, sino con justicia, respeto y dignidad.
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