As Congress finalizes its funding for fiscal year 2027, Republicans are attempting to include five anti-LGBTQ+ riders in the National Security and Department of State Appropriations Act.

A rider is an unrelated provision tacked onto a bill that must pass — in this instance, the bill provides funding for national security policy and for the State Department.

The riders range from restricting Pride flags in federal buildings to banning transgender healthcare, but all aim to limit the visibility and rights of LGBTQ+ Americans.

The five riders are:

Section 7067(a) prohibits Pride flags from being flown over federal buildings.

Section 7067(c) restricts the United States’ ability to appoint special envoys, representatives, or coordinators unless expressly authorized by Congress. These roles have historically been used to promote U.S. interests in international forums — including advancing human and LGBTQ+ and intersex rights and other policy priorities. The change would halt what the Congressional Equality Caucus describes as providing “critical expertise to U.S. foreign policy and leadership abroad.”

Section 7067(d) reinforces multiple anti-equality executive orders signed by President Donald Trump, effectively requiring that foreign assistance funded by the United States comply with those orders. This includes rescinding federal contractor nondiscrimination protections, including for LGBTQ+ people.

Section 7067(e) prohibits funding for any organization that provides or promotes medically necessary healthcare for trans people or “promotes transgenderism” — effectively banning funds for organizations that recognize trans people exist. This is despite the practice of gender-affirming care being supported by nearly every major medical association.

Section 7067(g) reinforces two global gag rules put forward by the Trump-Vance administration. One is the Trans Global Gag Rule, which prohibits foreign assistance funding for organizations that acknowledge the existence of trans people or advocate for nondiscrimination protections for them, among other activities. The second is the DEI Global Gag Rule, which prohibits foreign assistance funding for organizations that engage in efforts to address the ongoing effects of racism, sexism, and other forms of bigotry outside the United States.

The global gag rule has its roots in anti-abortion policy introduced by President Ronald Reagan in 1984, when the 40th president barred foreign organizations receiving U.S. global health assistance from providing information, referrals, or services for legal abortion, or from advocating for access to abortion services in their own countries. Planned Parenthood notes that the policy also affects programs beyond abortion, including efforts to expand access to contraception, prevent and treat HIV/AIDS, combat malaria, and improve maternal and child health.

If organizations funded by the State Department engage in these activities, they could lose funding.

This anti-LGBTQ+ push aligns with broader actions from the Trump-Vance administration since the start of Trump’s second term, which have focused on restricting human rights — particularly those of trans Americans.

The House Appropriations Committee is responsible for drafting the appropriations legislation. U.S. Rep. Tom Cole (R-Okla.) serves as chair, with U.S. Rep. Rosa DeLauro (D-Conn.) as ranking member. The committee includes 34 Republicans and 27 Democrats.

For FY27 appropriations, Congress is supposed to pass and have the president sign the funding bills by Sept. 30, 2026.

Over the past days, I have been walking with a question that refuses to leave me. Not the kind of question you answer from a desk or from a distance, but one that grows out of what you witness in real time, at the gates, in the faces of those who remain there without knowing how any of this will end. What is truly happening inside the University of Puerto Rico, and why have so many students decided to risk everything at a moment when they can least afford to lose anything.

I write as someone who lives just steps away from the Río Piedras campus. These days, the silence has replaced the constant movement that once defined this space. The absence is felt in every corner where students used to pass at all hours. Since arriving in Puerto Rico three years ago, I have come to know firsthand stories that rarely make it into reports or official statements. One of the reasons I chose to stay was precisely this, to serve the university community, to help create a space where students could find something as basic as a safe meal at night and, in some way, ease burdens that are often carried in silence.

I have listened, asked questions, and tried to understand without imposing answers. What I have found is not a collective outburst or a generational whim. What exists is a fracture, a deep break between those making decisions and those living with their consequences every single day.

There has been an effort to reduce this strike to an issue of order, scheduling, or academic disruption. Conversations revolve around missed classes, delayed semesters, and students supposedly unaware of the consequences of their actions. What is rarely addressed are the conditions that lead an entire student body to pause its own future to sustain a protest that offers no guarantees.

Because that is the reality. These are students who fully understand what they are risking, and yet they remain. When someone reaches that point, the least they deserve is not judgment, but to be heard.

From the outside, there have also been attempts to discredit what is happening. Familiar narratives are repeated, legitimacy is questioned, and doubt is cast over intentions. It is easier to do that than to acknowledge that this did not begin at the gates, but long before, in decisions made without building trust.

And something must be said clearly. This is not limited to the gates of Río Piedras. What we are witnessing extends across every unit of the University of Puerto Rico system. Mayagüez, Ponce, Arecibo, Bayamón, Cayey, Humacao, Carolina, Aguadilla, Utuado, and the Medical Sciences Campus. This is not an isolated reaction. It is a movement that runs through the entire institution. Río Piedras may be more visible, but it is not alone. What is happening there reflects a broader unrest felt across the system.

Within that context, one demand has grown increasingly present, the call for the resignation of University of Puerto Rico President Zayira Jordán Conde. This is not the voice of a small group. It reflects a deeper level of mistrust that has spread across multiple campuses.

The Puerto Rican Association of University Professors has also made it clear that this is not solely a student issue. There is real concern among faculty, and a shared recognition of the conditions currently shaping the university. When students and professors arrive at the same conclusion, the problem can no longer be minimized.

Meanwhile, the administration continues to speak in the language of dialogue. But dialogue is not a word, it is a practice. And when trust has been broken, it cannot be restored through statements alone, but through decisions that prove a willingness to truly listen.

In the midst of all of this, there are voices that cannot be ignored. Voices grounded not in theory, but in lived experience. One of them is Joanna Cifredo, a student at the Mayagüez campus, a young Puerto Rican trans woman, and someone widely recognized for her advocacy.

I spoke with her in recent days. What follows is her voice, exactly as it is.

How would you describe what is happening inside the University of Puerto Rico right now, beyond what people see from the outside?

Estamos viviendo momentos muy difíciles, en el sentido de que hay mucha incertidumbre y una presión constante por parte de la administración para reabrir el recinto, pero, entre todo el caos e inestabilidad provocado por las decisiones de esta administración, también hemos vivido momentos muy poderosos. Esta lucha ha sacado lo mejor de nuestra comunidad.

Lo vimos en las asambleas y plenos, donde 1,500, 1,700, hasta 1,800 estudiantes llegaron —bajo lluvia, bajo advertencias de inundaciones— y aun así se quedaron, participaron y votaron a favor de una manifestación indefinida hasta que se atiendan nuestros reclamos.

He conocido a tantas personas en los diferentes portones, estudiantes graduados, aletas, estudiantes de intercambio, estudiantes de todo tipo de concentraciones y se unieron para apoyar el movimiento estudiantil. Estudiantes que vienen a los portones después del trabajo o antes de trabajar. Estudiantes que vienen a dejar agua y suministros entre turnos de trabajo. Viejitos que vienen a los portones con desayuno, almuerzo o cena.

Más allá de lo que se ve desde afuera, lo que estamos viviendo es una mezcla de tensión y resistencia, pero también de comunidad, solidaridad y compromiso colectivo.

Much of what is discussed remains at the level of headlines or social media. From your direct experience, what specific decisions or actions from the administration have led to this level of mobilization?

Desde el inicio, la designación de la Dra. Zayira Jordán Conde careció de respaldo dentro de la comunidad universitaria. No contaba con experiencia administrativa en la UPR ni con un conocimiento básico de nuestros procesos, cultura y reglamentos. Por eso, en asamblea, el estudiantado votó para solicitarle a la Junta de Gobierno que no considerara su candidatura, y múltiples organizaciones docentes hicieron lo mismo. Existía un consenso amplio de que no tenía la experiencia necesaria para liderar una institución como la nuestra.

A pesar de ese rechazo claro, la Junta de Gobierno decidió ignorar los reclamos de la comunidad universitaria e imponer su nombramiento.

Una vez en el cargo, su estilo de gobernanza ha sido poco transparente y poco colaborativo. Sin embargo, el detonante principal de la movilización en el Recinto Universitario de Mayagüez fue su decisión de destituir, de manera unilateral y en medio del semestre, a cinco rectores, incluyendo al nuestro, el Dr. Agustín Rullán Toro, para reemplazarlo por un rector interino, el Dr. Miguel Muñoz Muñoz.

Esta acción, tomada de forma abrupta, provocó de inmediato un clima de caos e inestabilidad dentro de la institución. Y deja una pregunta inevitable: ¿no anticipó el impacto de esa decisión, lo que evidenciaría una falta de experiencia? ¿O lo anticipó y aun así decidió proceder? No está claro cuál de las dos es más preocupante.

Además, esta decisión tuvo consecuencias concretas para el estudiantado, incluyendo el retiro de becas educativas para nuevos integrantes del RUM por parte de la Fundación Ceiba, que calificó la movida como “sorprendente” y “preocupante”. Decisiones impulsivas como la que tomó la presidenta ponen en peligro la estabilidad de nuestra institución y la acreditación de la universidad.

As a trans woman within this movement, how does your identity intersect with what is happening, and why does this also shape the future of people like you?

Soy una de varias chicas trans que formamos parte activa de este movimiento estudiantil.

For those outside the UPR who believe this does not affect them, what are the real consequences of this crisis?

La Universidad de Puerto Rico se fundó para servir al pueblo.

It is impossible to overstate the role the University of Puerto Rico and its students have played in shaping the social, cultural, and economic life of this country. Its impact extends into science, medicine, and every profession that has sustained Puerto Rico over time. No other educational institution has contributed more.

After listening to her, one thing becomes undeniable. This is not just another protest, but a generation refusing to let go of what little remains within its reach. And when a generation reaches that point, the issue is no longer the strike, the issue becomes the country itself.

YOUR EX, an LGBTQ+ newspaper in New Zealand, published this article on April 28. The Los Angeles Blade is publishing it with permission.

More gay, bi, and takatāpui men in Aotearoa may soon be able to donate blood, with New Zealand Blood Service changing its sexual activity screening rules in a move that shifts the focus away from sexuality and on to specific recent behavior.

For many queer people, the change represents a move away from treating all men who have sex with men as a single risk category. Instead, all donors will be asked the same questions about new or multiple sexual partners in the past three months, and whether they have had anal sex with those partners.

Under the new approach, donors who have had anal sex with a new or multiple partners in the past three months will still face a three-month deferral. But those who have not — and who meet all other eligibility criteria — will be able to donate. Donors will also be asked whether they have had gonorrhea or any other sexually transmitted infection in the past three months, with a three-month wait applying after treatment and recovery.

That change could open the door for some gay, bisexual, takatāpui and other men who have sex with men who were previously excluded from giving blood. In particular, men who have had anal sex with only one partner in the past three months, where that sexual contact has been ongoing for longer than three months, may now be eligible to donate, including those in long-term single-partner relationships.

For years, blood donation rules have been experienced not just as a public health measure, but as a blunt and often stigmatizing signal that queer men were viewed differently from everyone else. This change suggests a more nuanced approach, one that looks at what people do, rather than who they are, based on findings from the Sex and Prevention of Transmission Study (SPOTS) and international evidence supporting behavior-based screening.

New Zealand Blood Service says the new model will maintain the safety of the blood supply while making donation more inclusive.

Still, the new rules are not a complete removal of the restrictions, and some will see them as progress rather than full equity. The three-month deferral remains in place for donors who have had anal sex with a new or multiple partners, even if they are taking PrEP or using condoms. New Zealand Blood Service says that while PrEP is highly effective for HIV prevention, it can mask low levels of HIV during testing, and condoms are not considered completely fail-safe.

Lawmakers on Wednesday introduced a bill that would block the expansion of the global gag rule.

President Ronald Reagan in 1985 implemented the global gag rule, also known as the “Mexico City” policy, which bans U.S. foreign aid for groups that support abortion and/or offer abortion-related services.

Trump reinstated the rule during his first administration. The Biden-Harris administration shortly after it took office in 2021 rescinded it.

The Trump-Vance administration earlier this year expanded the global gag rule to ban U.S. foreign aid for groups that promote “gender ideology.” The expansion took effect on Feb. 26.

U.S. Sens. Jeanne Shaheen (D-N.H.) and Jacky Rosen (D-Nev.) introduced the Protecting Human Rights and Public Health in Foreign Assistance Act in the U.S. Senate. U.S. Reps. Grace Meng (D-N.Y.), Lois Frankel (D-Fla.), Diana DeGette (D-Colo.), Pramila Jayapal (D-Wash.), Sara Jacobs (D-Calif.), and Gregory Meeks (D-N.Y.) introduced it in the U.S. House of Representatives.

“Using taxpayer money to export the Trump administration’s anti-trans, anti-science, and anti-abortion ideological agenda isn’t just immoral — it’s antithetical to efficient, effective, and rights-based foreign assistance,” said Council for Global Equality Senior Policy Fellow Beirne Roose-Snyder on Wednesday in a press release.

Meng added the Trump-Vance administration’s “crusade against healthcare and global aid is putting millions of lives at risk worldwide.” 

“No one will flourish under the new expanded global gag rule,” said the New York Democrat. “These policies weaponize foreign aid and will result in greater harm, particularly for women and girls, marginalized communities, and LGBTQI+ individuals.”

“They should never have been implemented at all, let alone without even a basic public comment process,” she added. “This legislation will reverse these dangerous policies.”

More than 100 organizations have issued a travel advisory for the U.S. ahead of the 2026 World Cup.

The World Cup will take place in the U.S., Canada, and Mexico from June 11-July 19.

“In light of the deteriorating human rights situation in the United States and in the absence of meaningful action and concrete guarantees from FIFA, host cities, or the U.S. government, the undersigned organizations are issuing this travel advisory for fans, players, journalists, and other visitors traveling to and within the United States for the June 2026 FIFA Men’s World Cup. World Cup games will be played in 11 different cities across the United States, which, like many localities, have already been the target of the Trump administration’s violent and abusive immigration crackdown,” reads the advisory that the Council for Global Equality and other groups that include the American Civil Liberties Union issued on April 23.  “The impacts of these policies vary by locality.”

“While the Trump administration’s rising authoritarianism and increasing violence pose serious risks to all, those from immigrant communities, racial and ethnic minority groups, and LGBTQ+ individuals have been and continue to be disproportionately targeted and affected by the administration’s policies and, as such, are most vulnerable to serious harm when traveling to and/or within the United States,” it adds. “This travel advisory calls on fans, players, journalists, and other visitors to exercise caution.”

The advisory specifically mentions Renee Good.

A U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent on Jan. 7 shot and killed her in Minneapolis. Good, 37, left behind her wife and three children.

The full advisory can be read here.

A new health agreement between the U.S. and the Philippines has raised questions among HIV/AIDS service providers.

A joint declaration signed by the U.S. and the Philippines on April 7 sets out a plan for closer health cooperation, aimed at transitioning the Philippines toward greater autonomy and “self-reliance” in its health systems, according to a State Department statement released.

In practice, “self-reliance” in health systems refers to a country’s ability to fund, manage, and deliver care without heavy dependence on external donors. In the Philippines, programs serving LGBTQ+ people — particularly those focused on HIV prevention, testing and treatment — have relied in part on international funding and technical support, including from the U.S., according to UNAIDS. 

The Philippine Department of Health has led the national response to the pandemic.

The joint declaration of intent was signed under the Trump-Vance administration’s “America First Global Health Strategy.” The State Department said the agreement would involve co-funding of mutually agreed global health objectives under bilateral health cooperation between the U.S. and the Philippines in the near future.

The declaration also outlines areas of cooperation beyond financing: workforce development, health information systems, and emergency preparedness. The State Department said the framework is intended to strengthen coordination between U.S. and Philippine institutions while supporting the Philippines’ capacity to manage public health challenges independently over time. The statement does not specifically address LGBTQ+ health.

Similar agreements in other regions have drawn scrutiny from LGBTQ+ advocacy groups. 

In Africa, community organizations have warned that a shift from donor-funded, community-led health programs to government-to-government frameworks could affect access for marginalized populations, including LGBTQ+ people. The Washington Blade found that such changes may reduce reliance on specialized clinics that have historically provided stigma-free care, raising concerns about discrimination, privacy, and continuity of services.

Desi Andrew Ching, president of HIV & AIDS Support House in the Philippines, said the partnership presents a significant opportunity, but added that, like any large-scale international agreement, its success for the LGBTQ+ community will depend on how it is implemented on the ground.

“On one hand, it’s a positive move. Increased cooperation on health systems can lead to better technical support and potentially more resources for HIV/AIDS prevention and mental health — areas that deeply impact our community,” Ching told the Blade. “If the government and civil society work closely together, we could see some real progress.”

Ching said community concerns often center on where those resources ultimately go. Ching added there is a risk funds could remain within “usual” government-aligned channels or traditional implementers that may not have the trust or reach of grassroots LGBTQ+ organizations.

The Philippines is facing one of the fastest-growing HIV epidemics in the Asia-Pacific region, with UNAIDS statistics indicating new infections increased by about 543 percent between 2010 and 2023.

The epidemic is concentrated among key populations, particularly men who have sex with men and transgender women who account for a vast majority of new infections. A 2023 analysis found that key populations represented about 92 percent of new HIV cases in the country, underscoring the disproportionate impact on LGBTQ+ communities. At the same time, stigma, limited access to testing and gaps in healthcare delivery continue to shape outcomes for these groups.

Ching said that for the partnership to be effective, support would need to be closely targeted to reach those most at risk, including individuals who often avoid government facilities because of stigma and fear of judgment. 

“If the partnership prioritizes ‘community-led’ monitoring and direct support to local organizations, it will be a game-changer. If it stays at the top tier of administration, we might just see the same results as before,” Ching said.

Community-led organizations have been central to the Philippines’ HIV response, particularly in reaching LGBTQ+ populations often underserved by formal healthcare systems. UNAIDS notes groups such as LoveYourself have expanded testing and treatment access through community-based clinics and online outreach, including during the COVID-19 pandemic, when movement restrictions limited access to government facilities.

“To be honest, in these high-level agreements, ‘guarantees’ are hard to come by on paper. The real safeguards lie in the mechanics of implementation,” said Ching. “From the community’s perspective, we believe the best way to prevent services from being diluted is through direct involvement in the planning phase. We would like to see the funding groups and government stakeholders sitting at the same table as the community to game out the specific work plans. It should not be a top-down approach; it needs to be co-designed.”

Ching said oversight would be a critical layer of protection, adding that a dedicated point of contact, such as a U.S Agency for International Development technical lead or a similar monitor, would be needed to track how funds are used.

USAID officially shut down on July 1, 2025, after the Trump-Vance administration dismantled it.

Ching added community-led monitoring would also be necessary in addition to government oversight. He said safety and trust cannot be guaranteed by policy alone but must be built through experience, noting that community-led organizations have consistently reached the most marginalized populations. 

“Safety and trust aren’t things you can just write into a policy; they have to be built through experience,” Ching said, adding that community-based sites are often seen as more accessible and safer because they are “for us, by us.” 

He said the partnership should direct substantial support to grassroots organizations that have demonstrated an ability to overcome stigma, while strengthening coordination with government clinics. The most effective approach, he added, would combine government infrastructure with community-led delivery, allowing trusted local groups to serve as the primary point of access.

’We want a seat at the table’

According to a report by the World Health Organization on the Philippines, prevention efforts account for only about 6 percent of total HIV spending, despite a sharp rise in cases. The report said the gap has been compounded by a recent pause in U.S. funding, which has delayed the development and implementation of prevention programs and community-led responses.

Asked whether community-led LGBTQ+ organizations would be funded and included in implementation or sidelined under a government-led approach, Ching said that remained the central question for the community, adding that no detailed plan has yet been made public.

“But we have to be realistic about the politics — both within the government and even within civil society — that can sometimes slow things down,” said Ching. “A good baseline to look at is the UNAIDS 30-80-60 targets. These milestones are specifically designed to put community-led responses at the center of the HIV fight. If we’re being honest, as a country, we are still finding our footing in meeting those specific targets. There is a very real risk of being sidelined if the execution defaults to a standard ‘government-only’ approach.”

The UNAIDS set global targets to guide the HIV response, most notably the “95-95-95” goals for 2025. 

The framework calls for 95 percent of people living with HIV to know their status, 95 percent of those diagnosed to receive sustained treatment and 95 percent of those on treatment to achieve viral suppression. The targets were designed to reduce transmission and improve health outcomes, while also highlighting gaps in access to testing, treatment, and prevention services.

“We view this new partnership with the U.S. as a chance to course-correct. If the intention is to end AIDS as a public health threat, the data shows it simply cannot be done without the community in the driver’s seat for service delivery,” said Ching. “Our hope is that the implementation isn’t just government-led, but government-enabled. We want a seat at the table not just for the sake of being there, but to ensure the resources are actually hitting the ground where they matter most. We’re looking for a partnership that honors those 2025 milestones by making community-led organizations formal, funded partners in this roadmap.”

Delaware is widely known for its firsts. It’s the first state to ratify the U.S. Constitution, the first to join the Union, and the first to decide that no sales tax would be levied on its citizens.  

Another historic first to come from Delaware is Sarah McBride. McBride is the first and only transgender member of Congress. The Blade sat down for an exclusive interview with the congresswoman to discuss a wide array of topics — from the Trump administration’s attacks on transgender service members to her current obsession with the reality TV show “The Traitors” — as well as her legislative work, which has already made her one of the busier members of her freshman class.

Her office in the Longworth House Office Building reflects the nuances of her political identity: deeply serious policymaking paired with an unmistakable sense of personality. Photographs of McBride with friends, family, and political heroes line the walls. A windowsill is filled with crystals. A “Bridgerton” pillow sits on her office couch — small artifacts that soften the institutional weight of Capitol Hill without diminishing it.

When asked how she was feeling more than a year into her first term, McBride acknowledged the climate she was elected into — marked by what she described as toxicity and division under Trump-era politics — but explained that she remains energized by the work ahead.

“I am more energized and motivated now than I was a year and a half ago,” said McBride from her Longworth office. “I’m also more hopeful than I was when I first started here. It was a couple of weeks before Donald Trump was sworn in – the chaos, the cruelty, and the fear was pretty pronounced.”

That sense of hope, she made clear, is not necessarily shaped by the noise inside Congress—including attacks from colleagues like Rep. Nancy Mace (R-S.C.) and Rep. Keith Self (R-Texas)— but instead by what she sees from the constituents she represents back home.

“I have seen the goodness of my neighbors, the goodness of people across Delaware who remind me, day in and day out, that the division and the toxicity we see online are not actually representative of real life. That social media can impact real life, but it’s not representative of it, and that is, for me, incredibly comforting, and I think, a profound reminder that we can still have conversations across disagreement, we can still persuade people, and we can still grow our ranks.”

That belief — that persuasion is still possible — serves as the through line for how McBride views both her role in Congress and the broader political moment. It also frames her sharp criticism of the Trump-Vance administration, which she argues is rooted less in governance than in destruction.

“Donald Trump is not a conservative, he is not a traditional Republican. Trump wants to destroy. His billionaire donors want to destroy. They thrive in a culture of cynicism. They want to destroy our attention span and mine what little remains for parts. They want to destroy jobs and health care so they can consolidate power for themselves, and in this moment, they want to destroy the international moral order so that the strong can plunder the weak.”

Still, she argues, that approach may be backfiring politically, something she says has only strengthened her sense of optimism.

“We have seen public opinion turn against the cruelty and incompetence of this administration, we’ve seen outrage and rightful opposition. One of the things that I feared early on was that this administration’s momentum would only grow, but instead what we’ve seen is that the cult of personality has begun to break. A growing and very large majority of Americans oppose what they’re seeing from this administration, and that is hope inducing for me. But beyond all of that, I am more motivated because of the change that I’ve been able to witness here in this office and on behalf of my constituents.”

That motivation is not abstract. It is measured in casework, legislative negotiations, and tangible dollars flowing back to Delaware. Alongside broader efforts, McBride co-sponsored the bipartisan “Equal Opportunity for All Investors Act” (H.R. 3339), which passed the House unanimously in 2025 while referred to the Committee on Banking, Housing, and Urban Affairs. The legislation broadened access to investment opportunities by allowing individuals to qualify as accredited investors based on expertise rather than wealth alone.

“Our office has returned roughly $5 million to individual Delawareans and secured roughly $150 million in critical investments for Delaware. I’ve been able to introduce more bipartisan bills here in Congress than any other freshman, and we’ve been able to prevent every single anti-trans bill or major provision from becoming law. That is something that I don’t know that I would have believed was possible, but it’s been a byproduct of the strategy that we have undertaken. In short, what I’ve seen is that we can still win hearts and minds and that you can still deliver for people here in Congress.”

That emphasis on strategy over spectacle defines much of McBride’s approach to politics. It also informs how she navigates her identity as the first openly transgender member of Congress. While her presence carries symbolic weight, she resists the idea that symbolism alone is sufficient.

“No single person can be the voice of any one community, certainly not a community as diverse as the entirety of the LGBT community. I believe that part of my responsibility as a trans person who has the privilege of serving here is to guarantee that while I may be a first, I’m not the last. One of the reasons why anti-trans politics has been so successful is because the right wing has characterized trans people, and one of the greatest things that I can contribute is helping to diversify the public’s understanding of who trans people are. That does far more to change the public’s perception and political dynamics than anything else that I could do.”

Much of that work, she emphasized, happens away from cameras and headlines. It’s an approach that has at times drawn criticism from some LGBTQ advocates who favor more confrontational tactics, but one she frames as essential to long-term change.

“In a social media age, we perceive advocacy to look like one very loud thing, but a lot of my work is also behind the scenes. Speaking out and posting a clip is not the only way to advocate for people; in fact, it’s often the avenue of last resort if you actually want to deliver results. Despite a campaign that spent $200 million in anti-trans ads and an administration obsessed with trans people, not a single anti-trans bill or provision has become law. That’s not by coincidence, it’s by hard work and a strategic approach to defending the LGBTQ community.”

That same discipline carries into how she handles political attacks and public scrutiny.

“When you are a first, people will be out in force to try to bait you into fights to prove that people like you don’t belong. If you respond to provocations, they will turn you into a caricature and say you’re the aggressor. My job is to be a proud Delawarean and a damn good legislator, and the rest will follow from that. When you don’t take the bait, you protect your ability to deliver results.”

That approach has helped her build unlikely alliances across the aisle.

“I made it clear that I was willing to work with anyone if we could find common ground to help my constituents. As a byproduct, a number of my Republican colleagues came up to me and said welcome to Congress and let’s find opportunities to work together. That has resulted in me being able to introduce more bipartisan bills than any other freshman. We’ve been able to secure investments and pass legislation that opens up more capital to entrepreneurs from underrepresented backgrounds.”

Looking ahead to the midterms, McBride is both cautious and pragmatic.

“I feel cautiously optimistic that if the election were held today, that Democrats would win a majority in the House, but the problem is that the election is not held today. Republicans will be out in force with a boatload of money and will continue to try to use people like me as a political wedge issue. We have to meet all voters where they are and keep our eyes focused on the universal needs that our constituents have. It’s going to require us to have a big tent from our left to our right so that we can meet this moment.”

“We should not put anything by the Republicans; they will seek to suppress the vote and undermine the will of the people. That reinforces the need for us to win by such a margin that our win is too big to contest. It’s going to require us to reach voters who didn’t vote for us and compete in places we have written off. If the stakes are as high as we say they are, then we need all of the help that we can get.”

Her focus on long-term party-building is equally central to her vision — one that would be willing to take a leadership position on if given the chance.

“I’m really grateful that our leadership has offered me opportunities to have my voice heard and to represent the caucus. I am eager to find any opportunity to elevate the voices of my constituents and contribute. My background was in communications, and I believe our party can find new ways to communicate with voters. Our caucus is going to be the tip of the spear in helping to rebrand our party and build a governing majority.”

“We need to deliver universal child care, a higher minimum wage, Medicare for all who want it, and millions of new homes. Winning the next election is not the end; we have to continue building toward a durable majority. I’m eager to contribute to that vision in any way that my caucus sees fit. That includes potentially serving in leadership if that’s where I can be most helpful.”

On foreign policy, she is equally direct. The ongoing war with Iran was something she, as a member of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, is not only familiar with but completely opposed to.

“The war is illegal, but it’s also stupid, and it is a catastrophe for the United States. [The Trump administration] has not achieved any of their stated goals, and everything that has been destroyed can be rebuilt. Iran now has more leverage globally, including control of the Strait of Hormuz. This war raised costs, lost lives, and achieved what was already achieved a decade ago without any of that.”

That frustration echoes in what she hears from voters at home.

“Delawareans are pissed, and they’re pissed because this president promised he would end wars and lower costs. He has broken both of those promises, costs are higher and there are more wars. They are facing higher costs when they were already struggling, and they see that his policies have made that crisis worse. People across this country are angry that those promises were broken.”

Concerns about political violence and digital radicalization also weigh heavily on her. Last week’s attack at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner is one instance of politically motivated violence continuing to fester and instill fear in the American political sphere.

“I was horrified when I heard that there were shots fired, and the rising tide of political violence is a cancer for our democracy. Social media is radicalizing people and fostering misinformation and conspiracy theories. When people see a world where everyone is either 100% with them or against them, they begin to believe persuasion is impossible. That is fertile ground for violent extremists and it is unsustainable for democracy.”

“Democracy requires faith in other people’s capacity to change, and when that belief is lost, peaceful politics breaks down. People are not as divided as the algorithms make it seem, and most people are good and decent. We can tap people’s better angels, but we have to be willing to be in conversation with them. You cannot tell me that change is impossible, I have seen it and lived it.”

That belief underpins her support for regulating social media platforms, though she is careful to stress that policy alone is insufficient. The congresswoman constantly faces threats, repulsive comments, and detestable words from people on her social media channels for her identity alone.

“There’s no question that we need regulation of social media platforms, social media is the 21st century big tobacco. Whether it’s liability, age limits, or transparency of algorithms, there are a host of solutions we need to pursue. But policy solutions alone will not solve this problem. We have to get offline and have conversations in person.”

“When we have conversations in person, we realize we have much more in common than we think. We are currently having political conversations in the most toxic place possible, online. That has to change if we want to sustain democracy. You will come away more hopeful when you engage with people face to face.”

Her LGBTQ priorities remain anchored in policy and humanism— something she references repeatedly.

“I helped draft the Equality Act and I would love to see it become law. In the nearer term, we should prioritize reversing the ban on transgender troops. These are decorated service members who have been fired for no other reason than their gender identity. They deserve to be treated with dignity and fairness and judged on their merits.”

She continued at length about the transgender service members removed under Executive Order 14183, emphasizing both their service and their erasure.

“These are individuals who are not just qualified, but more than qualified, who have been decorated service members, who have received promotions with unanimous and unqualified endorsement by their superior officers who have been fired from service to this country for no other reason than their gender identity. And I believe in this moment… there is no more effective representation of our community than the transgender service members who have put their lives on the line to serve this country and who have been treated with nothing but disrespect from this administration. They deserve to be treated with dignity and fairness and judged on their merits.”

Even in partisan fights, she returns to her guiding principle of discipline and restraint.

“Sometimes in politics you have to throw a punch with grace. Republicans initiated a mid-decade redistricting effort to gerrymander and pad their majority. They expected Democrats to fold, but those days are over. We fought back and we’re not going to let them steal elections in advance.”

When the conversation turns to how she maintains balance amid the chaos of national politics, McBride returns to unexpected sources of grounding — television, pop culture, and humor.

“I’ve watched every season of ‘The Traitors,’” she said.

When asked if she would ever take a trip to the Scottish Highlands to visit Alan Cumming’s castle, she said it would have to be after her work is done in Congress.

“If I was ever on ‘The Traitors,’ I would never be able to be a traitor. I would get too nervous and overwhelmed. I would have to be a faithful. But I think if there is a future where I am on that show, it will be after I’m in elected office.”

And through it all, she draws parallels between reality television and political life itself.

“If you want to understand how many in Congress work, the best tutorial is ‘The Real Housewives’ … There are people whose sole purpose is to get attention… If you throw wine back, they will just keep coming back for more … I’m not going to allow someone to get attention at my expense … I think all you need to understand is [Capitol Hill] is like an episode of ‘Real Housewives.’”

Still, for McBride, even amid the spectacle of Washington, the focus ultimately returns home.

“I am excited for beach season and I love Rehoboth and Baltimore Avenue,” she says. “It is the professional privilege of my lifetime to represent Delaware. I represent a district that is urban, suburban, and rural, and I get to see the full diversity of this country every day. Delaware shows that a different kind of politics is possible.”

Republicans have been gaining ground in reshaping education policy to be less inclusive toward LGBTQ+ students at the state level, and now they are turning their focus to Capitol Hill.

Some GOP lawmakers are pushing for a nationwide “Don’t Say Gay” bill, doubling down on their commitment to being the party of “traditional family values” by excluding anyone who does not identify with their sex at birth.

The largest anti-LGBTQ+ education legislation to reach the House chamber is House Bill 2616 — the Parental Rights Over the Education and Care of Their Kids Act, or the PROTECT Kids Act. The PROTECT Kids Act, proposed by U.S. Rep. Tim Walberg (R-Mich.), and co-sponsored by U.S. Reps. Burgess Owens (R-Utah), Mary Miller (R-Ill.), Robert Onder (R-Mo.), and Kevin Kiley (R-Calif.), would require any public elementary and middle schools that receive federal funding to require parental consent to change a child’s gender expression in school.

The bill, which was discussed during Tuesday’s House Rules Committee hearing, would specifically require any schools that get federal money from the Elementary and Secondary Education Act of 1965 — which was created to minimize financial discrepancies in education for low-income students — to get parental approval before identifying any child’s gender identity as anything other than what was provided to the school initially. This includes getting approval before allowing children to use their preferred locker room or bathroom.

It reads that any school receiving this funding “shall obtain parental consent before changing a covered student’s (1) gender markers, pronouns, or preferred name on any school form; or (2) sex-based accommodations, including locker rooms or bathrooms.”

LGBTQ+ rights advocates have criticized both national and state efforts to require parental permission to use a child’s preferred gender identity, as it raises issues of at-home safety — especially if the home is not LGBTQ+-affirming — and could lead to the outing of transgender or gender-curious students.

A follow-up bill, HB 2617, proposed by Owens, one of the bill’s co-sponsors, prevents the use of federal funding to “advance concepts related to gender ideology,” using the definition from President Donald Trump’s 2025 Executive Order 14168, making that an enshrined definition in law of sex rather than just by executive order. There is also a bill making its way through the senate with the same text— Senate Bill 2251.

Advocates have also criticized this follow-up legislation, as it would restrict school staff — including teachers and counselors — from acknowledging trans students’ identities or providing any support. They have said that this kind of isolation can worsen mental health outcomes for LGBTQ+ youth and allows for education to be politicized rather than being based in reality.

David Stacy, the Human Rights Campaign’s vice president of government affairs, called this legislation out for using LGBTQ+ children as political pawns in an ideology fight — one that could greatly harm the safety of these children if passed.

“Trans kids are not a political agenda — they are students who deserve safety and affirmation at school like anyone else,” Stacy said in a statement. “Despite the many pressing issues facing our nation, House Republicans continue their bizarre obsession with trans people. H.R. 2616 does not protect children. It targets them. This bill is cruel, and we’re prepared to fight it.”

This is similar to Florida House Bills 1557 and 1069, referred to as the “Don’t Say Gay” bill and “Don’t Say They” bill, respectively, restricting classroom discussions on sexual orientation and gender identity, prohibiting the use of pronouns consistent with one’s gender identity, expanding book banning procedures, and censoring health curriculum.

The American Civil Liberties Union is tracking 233 bills related to restricting student and educator rights in the U.S.

Uncloseted Media published this story on April 28.

By EMMA PAIDRA | Shlomo Satt remembers first thinking he might be gay at 13 years old after seeing an article about gay marriage in the newspaper. Growing up in an Orthodox Jewish community on Long Island, New York, Satt immediately felt anxious about what this could mean for his future.

“I think that’s when I started thinking, ‘Oh, am I that? Am I gay?’” Satt, now 30, told Uncloseted Media and GAY TIMES.

As Satt came to realize he was gay, his anxiety skyrocketed. He was aware that only half of Orthodox Jews — and 20 percent of ultra-Orthodox Jews — are accepting of homosexuality.

“In my community, it’s very shunned to be gay,” says Satt. “So it was really, really, hard for me to accept that I was attracted to other men, because I was like, ‘It’s not what the Torah says you’re allowed to be.’”

Unlike more progressive denominations, Orthodox Judaism advocates for a more literal understanding of the Hebrew Bible, known as the Torah. For example, verses such as Leviticus 18:22, which states that “You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination,” are more likely to be interpreted verbatim by Orthodox rabbis.

“One of the hallmarks of growing up Orthodox and queer is feeling really alone,” says Satt. “It’s not something we talked about.”

Stories like Satt’s represent what’s motivating LGBTQ+ people to leave Orthodox Judaism. While little research has been done, one 2023 study from Brooklyn College CUNY found that only about 15 percent of LGBTQ+ people left Orthodox Judaism directly because of their sexual orientation or their religious views on homosexuality. Other reasons for leaving the denomination included religious views on homosexuality, being judged, bullied or alienated, emotional abuse, trauma, wanting more freedom, and mental health issues.

“It was really hard for me to engage in [Orthodox Judaism] and not feel deep shame or trauma,” says Satt. “That’s why I left.”

Growing up Orthodox

Unlike many Orthodox Jewish families, Satt’s parents allowed him some access to technology and even played secular music like The Beatles. Still, he had no television in the house growing up and zero education about LGBTQ+ people.

“I didn’t even know that someone could be gay until a friend told me in sixth grade,” he says. “For most of my upbringing, it wasn’t like homophobia was espoused. It just was literally not talked about.”

After the newspaper article triggered Satt’s “gay awakening,” he struggled to keep his feelings inside. “It was really hard for me to accept that I was attracted to other men,” he says. “All I wanted was just to be straight.”

Staying silent about his emotions took a toll. He worried that his dreams of having a big Jewish family would be unattainable. “I wanted to have a wife and kids and be normal within my community, and it felt like I couldn’t have any of that if I was gay,” he says.

By around age 15, Satt’s stress levels reached a breaking point. “I had a night where I was just really, really depressed and crying to God about my sexuality. It was really hard for me to cry at that point, because I was so not tuned in with myself.” He decided to meet with a school psychologist who was part of the Orthodox community. After telling the psychologist he might be gay, the response he received was, “We can fix that.”

Satt remembers initially feeling immense relief at the thought that his sexuality could be cured. “I was so joyful,” says Satt. For the next three and a half years, he worked with members of the Orthodox community who practiced conversion therapy.

The turning point

This therapy, which has been widely discredited for decades, culminated with Satt doing a retreat through an organization called Brothers Road, where participants were encouraged to reenact their trauma in front of each other. He was forced to beat up a punching bag with a metal baseball bat, pretending it was his mother. “I don’t know what the purpose of this was, but it was horrible. And doing this for 35 adult people, it’s totally insane and super humiliating.”

After the therapy failed, Satt began to question the negative messaging he had been taught about being gay. “The things that are more innate to me, I believe, are from God. I didn’t choose to be gay, I just was gay,” he remembers thinking.

With the help of a licensed trauma specialist, Satt reconstructed his relationship to Judaism. He is still Jewish today, and has plans to pursue rabbinical school, but he left Orthodoxy behind. “I actually started really heavily diving into spirituality as a means of meaning in my life, as a means of connecting with my Jewish roots and my tradition, but in entirely different ways. One hundred percent progressive, 100 percent equitable, only learning with people who conferred my identities,” says Satt, who now identifies as a “post-denominational Jew.”

This transition hasn’t been easy. Satt has lost all contact with his family and describes losing the relationship with them as “the hardest thing” in his life.

Unfortunately, Satt’s experience isn’t unusual. An article written by the founder of Jewish Queer Youth (JQY), a nonprofit mental health organization, found that from 2016 to 2023, over 2000 queer youth from Orthodox families accessed support services provided by JQY. And amongst closeted Jewish Orthodox gay men, concerns about the impact of their sexuality on family relationships are a common theme.

Despite this, Satt says he’s experienced immense joy since accepting his sexuality, healing through therapy with an affirming Orthodox rabbi, and having a Jewish wedding where he married his long-term partner. “I started to, slowly but surely, take back my own narrative and live the life that I wanted.”

The rabbinical perspective

While one 2025 study published in the Archives of Sexual Behavior found that some ultra-Orthodox communities are moving away from uniform rejection of homosexuality, gay rights remain controversial in many Orthodox communities. For example, Chabad, a major movement within Orthodox Judaism, states on its website that when it comes to queer desires, “even if it burns inside for a lifetime, the best thing for you, for your health, and for your ultimate satisfaction in life is to subdue and re-channel that desire.”

Mark Dratch, an Orthodox rabbi in Jerusalem, says that there is a limit to the accommodations an Orthodox synagogue can make.

“The sense of alienation, the sense of depression and the person’s emotional and sometimes physical well-being, that’s part of a rabbi’s responsibility,” Dratch told Uncloseted Media and GAY TIMES. “So I think there’s room to be welcoming and embracing, while at the same time living with this kind of dissonance of what tradition requires.”

Though Dratch ultimately views queerness as being in opposition to Orthodox Judaism, he still believes it is his duty to try and support LGBTQ+ congregants. “I may not like this part of you, but if I don’t embrace you, then we’re going to lose the other 95 percent of your Jewish commitment,” he says.

Dratch says LGBTQ+ Jews would be welcome to attend services in his synagogue, but he wouldn’t marry a gay couple. “It may not be good enough for some LGBT people in these communities,” he says. “They want to be more than tolerated.”

Marceline’s story

It’s not just gay people who struggle. As early as 9 years old, Marceline Franco locked herself in her bathroom and wrapped a towel around her head, trying to picture herself as a woman. Assigned male at birth and raised in a Syrian Orthodox Jewish community in Brooklyn, N.Y. Franco felt intense guilt for wishing she was a girl.

“I desperately, more than anything, wanted to be a woman,” says Franco, now 30 years old. “I would sit in the bathroom as my only safe space to cry and pray and beg.”

Staying quiet about wanting to dress as a woman and go by a girl’s name put an immense amount of stress on Franco. “One of my fantasies as a kid was that I could wake up in a woman’s body. But in the bed next to me was a clone of me that could live out the rest of my life as my family and community would have wanted,” she says. “I felt horrible that I would rob them of me.”

A shared experience with conversion therapy

By the time Franco entered college, she decided to see an ultra-Orthodox therapist. “Over the next four and a half years, I participated in some version of conversion therapy,” she says. “[My therapist’s] view of it was more of a fetish/escape, and that it was something that I could learn to control and basically bury.”

Franco’s therapist taught her to think of herself in four parts. When Franco suggested that there was a fifth part — a girl — her therapist shut the idea down. Franco found the elimination of this part of her troubling. “It was the erasure of my transness with this person in a professional setting, which is deeply, deeply problematic,” says Franco.

Similar to Satt, conversion therapy didn’t work. And after watching queer comedian Hannah Gadsby’s comedy special “Nanette” for a college class, Franco began to question her therapist even more and started reconsidering her religious upbringing.

“I no longer was able to hold the belief that the Torah was true,” she says. “I realized that I may be holding onto religion to protect myself from coming to terms with the grief of being alone in the world … and justifying staying closeted.”

Franco ultimately left organized Judaism behind.

Six months later, she came out as trans. In order to explore her gender, she cut contact with her family. However, upon trying to reestablish a relationship with them as a woman, things did not go well. “I was nearly barred from my own grandfather’s funeral and I was barred from a family Shabbat meal mourning him. Two weeks later I was kicked out of my cousin’s wedding for showing up dressed as myself,” she says.

“The grief is immeasurable. It is nearly impossible to mourn people and relationships that are actively still living in this world. … And to move through all these major life moments alone has been really difficult.”

Despite this loss, Franco still practices elements of Judaism that resonate with her and has found joy and meaning in her transition. “Once I just started speaking my mind, saying how I felt, it stopped being confusing. I stopped hating myself for having these feelings. I just started loving myself.”

How Satt and Franco learned to move forward from religious trauma

Both Satt and Franco left the Orthodox communities they grew up in.

Still, Satt says Judaism has been the healing force for him. “It brought me back into a relationship with God, The Infinite, The Sum of All Good,” he says. “It ultimately made me feel very connected to myself, to humanity and to my heritage.”

Satt is thrilled that some rabbis are fighting for more inclusivity in the Orthodox Jewish space, but unless more begin to follow in their footsteps, he believes LGBTQ+ Jews will continue to disaffiliate from the denomination.

Though Franco no longer practices Judaism, she still finds meaning in some of the lessons she learned when she was.

“When my therapist was my mentor, she had me start to look at the world as having divine providence. And I did see a lot of that in my life. To this day, I still do,” she says. “And I just have reinterpreted that God doesn’t care that I’m Jewish or not. God loves me as I am.”

On Friday, April 24, 300 people gathered just before dawn, rolling their bicycles to a stop in Elysian Park. Against crisp morning air and dark, they donned vibrant orange and pink athletic wear, protective helmets, and sunglasses; while the rest of the city remained sleepy, the large group, which grew larger by the minute, hummed with excitement as they prepared to take off together on a three-day adventure towards the San Diego LGBT Community Center. 

This was the start of the highly anticipated Center Ride Out, the first-ever AIDS/LifeCycle legacy event created by the Los Angeles LGBT Center. For over 30 years, AIDS/LifeCycle brought masses for a seven-day ride from San Francisco to L.A. and raised over $300 million for life-saving HIV and AIDS resources and services. 

Center Ride Out was built in the lasting imprint and shadow of this event, and strived for a more accessible and joyous approach. “Center Ride Out carries forward the legacy of AIDS/LifeCycle, rooted in a time when our community came together to care for one another,” said LA LGBT Center CEO Joe Hollendoner, in a press release, who describes Center Ride Out as the beginning of a new legacy for LGBTQ+ cycling activism. 

Described as a “queer summer camp,” the pared-down three-day journey began with a 110-mile trek towards Temecula’s Lake Skinner, where, after a night’s rest, cyclists could spend a day gathering with community over arts and crafts, massages, a dance party, games, and other activities reminiscent of summers spent simmering by the water.

On the third day, cyclists rode 87 miles to the San Diego LGBT Community Center, one of the event’s benefiting partners, rounding out a nearly 300-mile journey across Southern California. In total, cyclists raised $830,511 to support the LA LGBT Center’s vital LGBTQ+ healthcare, housing, educational, and advocacy programs and social services — a crucial accomplishment after the organization suffered a $9 million loss in federal funding in the last fiscal year.

Sunday marked a victorious end to this first iteration of Center Ride Out, and cyclists raced towards each other upon reaching their final destination: sweaty, tired bodies embracing and entangling in pride and accomplishment. The monumental AIDS/LifeCycle has come to an end, but the joy that reverberated from this evening signaled the start of something just as great. 

Registration has already begun for the next Center Ride Out, which returns April 23-25, 2027. Learn more at the Center’s website.

Kristie Song is a California Local News Fellow placed with the Los Angeles Blade. The California Local News Fellowship is a state-funded initiative to support and strengthen local news reporting. Learn more about it at fellowships.journalism.berkeley.edu/cafellows.