Features
GSAs have uneasy future under Kentucky’s anti-LGBTQ+ law
Kentucky’s law is one of the nation’s most sweeping anti-LGBTQ+ laws, limits instruction of human sexuality/gender identity in schools
By Javeria Salman | OWENTON, KY. — During a school-wide club fair in this northern Kentucky town, a school administrator stood watch as students signed up for a group for LGBTQ+ students and their allies.
After the club sign-up sheet had been posted, students wrote derogatory terms and mockingly signed up classmates, according to one of the club’s founders. The group eventually went to the administrator, who agreed to help.
Simply being able to post the sign-up sheet in school was a victory of sorts. For two years, the club, known as PRISM (People Respecting Individuality and Sexuality Meeting), gathered in the town’s public library, because its dozen members couldn’t find a faculty adviser to sponsor it. In fall 2022, after two teachers finally signed on, the group received permission to start the club on campus.
Much of that happened because of one parent, Rachelle Ketron. Ketron’s daughter Meryl Ketron, who was trans and an outspoken member of the LGBTQ+ community in her small town, had talked about wanting to start a Gay-Straight Alliance when she got to high school. But in April 2020, during her freshman year, Meryl died by suicide after facing years of harassment over her identity.
Following Meryl’s death, Ketron decided to continue her daughter’s advocacy. She gathered Meryl’s friends and talked about what it might mean to start a Gay-Straight Alliance, a student-run group that could serve as a safe space for queer youth on campus. After trying, and failing, to get the school to sign off on the idea, the group decided to gather monthly at the public library, where its members discussed mental health, sex education and experiences of being queer in rural areas. Ketron, a coordinator of development at a community mental health center just across the border in Indiana, also founded doit4Meryl, a nonprofit that advocates for mental health education and suicide prevention, specifically for LGBTQ+ youth in rural communities like hers.
Around the country, LGBTQ+ students and the campus groups founded to support them have become a growing target in the culture wars. In 2023 alone, 542 anti-LGBTQ+ bills have been introduced by state legislatures or in Congress, according to an LGBTQ-legislation tracker, with many of them focused on young people. Supporters of the bills say schools inappropriately expose students to discussions about gender identity and sexuality, and parents deserve greater control over what their kids are taught. Critics say the laws are endangering already vulnerable students.
Kentucky’s law, passed in March, is one of the nation’s most sweeping anti-LGBTQ+ laws, prohibiting school districts from compelling teachers to address trans students by their pronouns and banning transgender students from using school bathrooms or changing rooms that match their gender identity. The law also limits instruction on and discussion of human sexuality and gender identity in schools. A separate section of the law bans gender-affirming medical care for transgender youth in the state.
“What started out as really a bill focused on pronouns and bathroom use morphed into this very broad anti-LGBTQIA+ piece of legislation that outlawed discussions of gender and sexuality, through all grades, and all subject matters,” said Jason Glass, the former Kentucky commissioner of education.
Glass left Kentucky in September to take a job in higher education in Michigan after his support for LGBTQ+ students drew fire from Republican politicians in Kentucky, including some who called for his ouster.
Because the law’s language is sometimes ambiguous, it’s up to individual districts to interpret it, Glass said. Some have adopted more restrictive policies that advocates say risk forcing GSAs, also known as Gender and Sexuality Alliances or Gay-Straight Alliances, to change their names or shut down, and led to book bans and the cancellation of lessons over concerns that they discuss gender or sexuality. Others have interpreted the law more liberally and continue to offer services and accommodations to transgender or nonbinary students, if parents approve.
Across the country, the number of GSAs is at a 20-year low, according to GLSEN, an LGBTQ+ education advocacy nonprofit. GLSEN researchers say there may be two somewhat contradictory forces at work.
Fewer students may feel the need for such clubs, thanks to school curricula and textbooks that have become more inclusive of LGBTQ+ individuals and thanks to an increase in the number of school policies that explicitly prohibit anti-gay bullying. Conversely, the recent surge in anti-LGBTQ+ legislation, as well as the halt to extracurricular activities during the pandemic, may also be fueling the drop, the researchers said.
Willie Carver, a former high school teacher and Kentucky’s Teacher of the Year in 2022, left teaching this year because of threats he faced as an openly gay man. Laws like the one in Kentucky legitimize and legalize harassment against LGBTQ+ kids, he said, and may even encourage it. “We’ve ripped all of the school support away from the students, so they’re consistently miserable and hopeless,” he said.
Coming out in fifth grade
Owenton is a picturesque farming community with rolling green hills and winding roads located halfway between Cincinnati and Louisville. Its population of about 1,682 is predominantly white and politically conservative: The surrounding county has voted overwhelmingly Republican in every presidential election since 2000.
Ketron moved here from Cincinnati in 2014 with her then-husband, seeking to live on a farm within driving distance of large cities. Shortly after the move, she recalled, a city official visited the property to give Ketron a rundown of expectations in the community — and a warning.
“It was basically ‘You better watch what you do and don’t get on the bad side of people because one person might be the only person that does that job in this whole county.’ Do you understand what I mean?’ ‘Yup,’” Ketron recalled saying, “‘I understand what you mean.’”
A few years later, she met her now-wife, Marsha Newell, and the two began raising their blended family of eight children on the farm. They also started fostering LGBTQ+ kids. Ketron said her family is one the few in the county to accept queer kids. Their children were often met with hostility, Ketron said; other students made fun of them for having two moms and told them that Ketron and her wife were sinners who were “going to hell.”
Ketron said the couple thought about moving, but beyond the financial and logistical obstacles, she worried about abandoning LGBTQ+ young people in the town. “Just because I’m uncomfortable or this is a foreign place for a queer kid to be doesn’t mean there aren’t queer kids born here every day,” she said.
After Meryl came out to family and friends in fifth grade, the bullying at school intensified, Ketron and Gwenn, Meryl’s younger sister, recalled. Few adults in Meryl’s schools took action to stop it, they said. When Meryl complained, school staff didn’t take her seriously and told her to “toughen up and move on,” Ketron said. (In an email, the high school’s new principal, Renee Boots, wrote that administrators did not receive reports of bullying from Meryl. Ketron said by the time Meryl reached high school, she’d given up on reporting such incidents.)
That said, as she got older, Meryl became more outspoken. As a ninth grader, in 2019, she clashed with students who wanted to fly the Confederate flag at school; Meryl and her friends wanted to fly a rainbow flag. The school decided to ban both flags, Ketron said. After that, Meryl brought small rainbow flags and placed them around campus. (According to Boots, students were wearing various flags as “capes” and were advised not to do so as it was against school dress code.)
Ketron said she generally supported her daughter’s advocacy, but sometimes wished she’d take a less combative approach. “You might need to dial it back a little bit,” Ketron recalled telling Meryl once, when her daughter was in eighth grade.
Ketron recalled seeing Meryl’s disappointment; she said it was the only time she felt that she let her daughter down.
Clubs provide a sense of belonging
For years, the most effective wedge issue between conservatives and progressives was marriage equality. But when the Supreme Court in 2015 recognized the legal right of same-sex couples to marry, opponents of gay rights pivoted to focus on trans individuals, particularly trans youth. After early success with legislation banning trans kids from playing sports, conservative legislators began to expand their efforts to other school policies pertaining to LGBTQ+ youth.
The ripple effects of these laws on young people are becoming more apparent, said Michael Rady, senior education programs manager for GLSEN. Forty-one percent of LGBTQ youth have seriously considered suicide in the past year, according to a 2023 survey by The Trevor Project, an LGBTQ+ suicide prevention nonprofit. Nearly 2 in 3 LGBTQ+ youth said that learning about potential legislation banning discussions of LGBTQ+ people in schools negatively affected their mental health.
Konrad Bresin, an assistant professor in the department of psychology and brain sciences at the University of Louisville whose research focuses on LGBTQ+ mental health, said that for LGBTQ+ individuals just seeing advertising that promotes legislation against them has negative effects. “Even if something doesn’t pass, but there’s a big public debate about it, that is kind of increasing the day-to-day stress that people are experiencing,” he said.
Bresin said that student participation in GSAs can help blunt the effect of anti-LGBTQ+ sentiment, since the clubs provide students a sense of belonging.
Bresin said that student participation in GSAs can help blunt the effect of anti-LGBTQ+ sentiment, since the clubs provide students a sense of belonging.
Supporters of Kentucky’s new law argue that the legislation creates necessary guardrails to protect students. Martin Cothran, spokesperson for The Family Foundation, the Kentucky-based conservative policy organization that advocated for the legislation, said the law is designed to keep students from being exposed to “gender ideology.”
Cothran said that nothing in the law impedes student speech, nor does it entirely prohibit traditional sex education. “It just says that you can’t indoctrinate,” he said. “Schools are for learning, not indoctrination.”
When the law, known as SB 150, went into effect last spring, Glass, the former education commissioner, said school districts were forced to scramble to update their curricula to comply with the bill’s restrictions. In some cases, that meant removing any information on sexuality or sexual maturation from elementary school health curricula, and also revising health, psychology and certain A.P. courses in middle school and high school, he said.
Some families have sued. In September, four Lexington families with trans or nonbinary kids filed a lawsuit against the Fayette County Board of Education and the state’s Republican attorney general, Daniel Cameron, alleging that SB 150’s education provisions violate students’ educational, privacy and free speech rights under state and federal law. The families say that since the law passed, their kids have been intentionally misgendered or outed, barred access to bathrooms that match their gender identity and had their privacy disregarded when school staff accessed their birth certificates in order to enforce the law’s provisions.
School districts that don’t comply fully with the law could face discipline from the state’s attorney general, said Chris Hartman, executive director of the Fairness Campaign, a Kentucky-based LGBTQ+ advocacy group.
Teachers from across the state have also shared stories about their schools removing pride flags and safe space stickers, banning educators from using trans students’ pronouns and names, and removing access to bathrooms for trans kids, according to Carver, the former Teacher of the Year, who is collecting that information as part of his work with the nonprofit Campaign for our Shared Future. Boyle County Schools Superintendent Mark Wade cited SB 150 as the reason for removing more than 100 books from the district’s school libraries.
Educators and school staff are fearful, said Carver. “It’s nearly impossible to know what’s happening because the law gets to be interpreted at the local level. So, the district itself gets to decide what the law’s interpretation will look like,” he said. “And teachers who before this were willing to speak out and advocate are, as a general rule, unwilling to speak publicly about what’s happening.”
For supporters of the law, that may be the point. GLSEN’s Rady said the bills are often written in intentionally vague ways to intimidate educators and school district leaders into removing any content that might land them in trouble. This year, his group is focused on providing educators, students and families information about their rights to free speech and expression in schools, including their right to run GSAs, Rady said.
‘Suicide is never one thing’
In March 2020, when the pandemic hit and schools went remote, Meryl, then a high school freshman, posted a video diary on social media. In it, she strums her ukulele, and shares a message to her friends. “Some of you guys don’t have social media, some of you guys don’t like being at home,” Meryl said in the video. “I won’t get to see you guys for a whole month which is awful because you guys make me have a 10 times better life, you guys make mountains feel like literally bumps and steep cliffs just feel like a little bit of walking down the stairs.”
The video ends with her saying she’ll see her peers in school on April 30, when schools were scheduled to reopen. On the morning of April 18, Meryl died.
Ketron, Meryl’s mother, had thought remote school would be a relief for her daughter after years of bullying in school buildings. But it was difficult to be separated from her friends, she said, and Meryl also knew some of them were struggling in homes where they did not feel accepted.
“Suicide is never one thing,” Ketron said. “A lot of times people talk about death by a thousand paper cuts. As sad as it sounds, for me to have that come out of my mouth, I feel like that really speaks to Meryl’s life. She had wonderful things, but it was just like thousands of paper cuts.”
For months after Meryl’s death, Ketron would read text messages on Meryl’s phone from her friends sharing stories about how she’d stood up for them in school and in the community. Ketron said she made a promise to herself — and to Meryl — that she was going to be loud like her daughter and “make it better.” In the spring of 2020, she started doit4Meryl.
“I don’t ever want this to happen again, ever, to anyone,” she said. “I never want someone to be in that place and pieces of it that got them there was hate and ignorance from another human being.”
In 2021, the anti-LGBTQ+ and anti-critical race theory book bans movement reached the Owenton community after a teacher in the district taught “The 57 Bus,” a nonfiction book that features a vocabulary guide explaining gender identities and characters who are LGBTQ+.
The book created an uproar in the town, with parents calling for its removal and for the educator to be disciplined. After that, Ketron said the few teachers who had seemed open to sponsoring the GSA no longer felt comfortable.
In mid-2021, Ketron decided to start the club herself, at the public library. Each month, a dozen or so kids gathered in one of the building’s study rooms, talking about what it means to be queer in rural Kentucky, and what they hoped to accomplish through their GSA. Some of them were Meryl’s friends, others were new to Ketron.
In July 2022, the group held a Color Run, a 5K to bring together various advocacy groups from around the county and state to uplift people after the isolation of Covid. Later that year, they invited Carver to speak about his experiences as an openly gay man growing up in rural Kentucky. The students worked with Ketron and doit4Meryl to create a “Be Kind” campaign: They printed signs with phrases like “You’re never alone” and “Don’t give up,” along with information on mental health resources, and placed them in yards around town.
In the fall of 2022, after a teacher agreed to serve as an advisor for the GSA, the school principal allowed the club on campus. While Ketron checks in with the students occasionally, the club is now student-led, she said. The past school year would have been Meryl’s senior year, and the club’s students were excited about finally being welcomed onto campus, Ketron said.
Tragedy strikes again
Then Kentucky’s 2023 legislative session began with an onslaught of legislation targeting LGBTQ+ youth that eventually merged to become SB 150.
Around the same time, tragedy entered Ketron’s life again: She lost one of her foster children, who was trans, to suicide. The loss of her daughters prompted her to spend countless hours in the state Capitol, attending committee meetings and hearings and signing up to testify against the anti-trans and anti-LGBTQ+ bills on the senate floor. She watched, devastated, as legislators quickly voted on and passed SB 150.
“All I could think about was Meryl,” she said. “They’re just starting and this world is supposed to love them through this hard part. When you’re shaping yourself and instead we’re going to tell you that we don’t want you to exist.”
In Owenton, the district follows SB 150 as per law, said Reggie Taylor, superintendent of Owen County Schools. Little has changed as a result of the legislation, he said: “It’s been business as usual.” Trans and nonbinary students have long had a separate bathroom they could use and that hasn’t changed, he said, and the district offers a tip line for students to anonymously report bullying, as well as access to school counselors.
Ketron, though, sees fallout. Fearful of bullying and other harms, she said that she and the other parents with trans kids in the school system are trying to get their children support by applying for help through Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act. While 504 plans are typically for students with disabilities, they are sometimes used to help secure LGBTQ+ students services and accommodations, such as protection from bullying, mental health counseling and access to bathrooms that match their gender identity.
SB 150 has also had a chilling effect on the work of the school’s GSA, according to Ketron. During the summer, after the law went into effect, PRISM members discussed changing the club’s name and direction to focus on mental health.
Across the state, students and educators are grappling with what their schools will look like as the law takes hold. In March, Anna, a trans nonbinary student from Lexington, launched an Instagram account called TransKY Storytelling Project, anonymously documenting the impact of the new law on young people and teachers.
People shared examples of the ways the legislation affects them, such as making them afraid to go to school, erasing their identities and making the jobs of educators and librarians tougher. A middle school guidance counselor in rural Kentucky wrote that the new law makes it harder to connect with students and support them: “If we are the only ones students have, and we can’t provide them the care they desperately need and deserve, the future looks very bleak.”
Even in the state’s more progressive cities, the law has changed daily life in schools, Anna, the Instagram account’s curator said. The GSA at Anna’s Lexington high school used to announce club meetings and events on the loudspeakers and post flyers in school hallways, Anna said. But the group has since gone underground, to avoid bringing attention to its existence lest administrators force it to stop meeting.
“The school felt so much safer knowing that [a GSA] existed because there were students like you elsewhere. You could go in and say, ‘Hey, I’m trying out this set of pronouns. I’m trying to learn more about myself. Can you all like call me this for a couple of weeks?’” Anna said. “It just allowed for a place where students like me could go.”
But while the absence of a GSA is concerning, Anna fears most the impact of SB 150 on students in rural parts of Kentucky. GSA members from rural communities have shared that they no longer have supportive school staff to advocate for their clubs because of the climate of fear created by the law, they said.
That said, November’s election brought some hope for LGBTQ+ advocates: Cameron, the state attorney general who backed SB 150 and campaigned on anti-trans policies, lost his bid for the governorship to incumbent Andy Beshear, and several other candidates for office who advocated anti-trans policies were defeated too.
Back in Owenton, Ketron is working with Carver to plan a summit for Kentucky’s rural, queer youth. Ketron said she hopes the gathering will serve as a reminder for students that even though they may be isolated in their communities, there are people like them across the state.
But as of this fall, participating in a GSA is no longer an option for students at the Owenton high school. Boots, the school principal, wrote in an email that the club had changed its focus, to one geared toward addressing “social needs across a variety of settings.”
But according to Ketron, students said they were afraid to continue a club focused on LGBTQ+ issues in part because of SB 150. She offered to help students restart the club in the library, or at her house, she said, but members worried that would be too difficult because many of them have not come out to their families.
Ketron said she’s not giving up. “At its core,” she said, a GSA is “a protective factor and so very needed, especially in a rural community.”
This story about LGBTQ+ students in schools was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Sign up for the Hechinger newsletter.
******************************************************************************************
Javeria Salman is The Hechinger Report’s digital news producer and reports and writes the Future of Learning newsletter. She covers K-12 education issues through the lens of innovation and technology, and helps manage social media. Before joining Hechinger in 2019, she worked as a local news reporter in eastern North Carolina. Her work for Hechinger has appeared in Telemundo, The Atlanta-Journal Constitution, The Christian Science Monitor and the Solutions Journalism Network.
She attended community college in New Jersey before graduating with a bachelor’s degree from East Carolina University.
The preceding story was previously published by the Kentucky Lantern and is republished with permission.
The Kentucky Lantern is an independent, nonpartisan, free news service based in Frankfort a short walk from the Capitol, but all of Kentucky is our beat.
We focus on how decisions made in the marble halls of power ripple through the lives of Kentuckians. We bring attention to injustices and hold institutions and officials accountable. We tell the stories of Kentuckians who are making a difference and shine a light on what’s working. Our journalism is aimed at building a fairer, healthier Kentucky for all.
The Lantern is part of States Newsroom, a nonprofit, coast-to-coast network of journalists that works to fill gaps in state government reporting caused by the declining numbers of state and local journalists.
The Lantern is free to read without paywalls or subscription fees. Our content is free to others to publish; we ask only for attribution and a link to our site.
The Lantern provides a platform for progressive commentary and thoughtful opinions about policy. Learn about our commentary submission guidelines here.
Features
Thank You, LA, for Wallis Annenberg Day!
The late lesbian philanthropist finally gets her real flowers.
Los Angeles County and the cities of Los Angeles, Santa Monica and Beverly Hills declared July 15 “Wallis Annenberg Day” – a local holiday on what would have been the longtime philanthropist’s 87th birthday. She died last July 28 from lung cancer.
Wallis, chair of the board, president, and CEO of the Annenberg Foundation, oversaw a nonprofit that contributed over $5 billion in grants and support for numerous significant projects and endeavors since 1989 – more recently, many that bear her name, including as founder and president of the Wallis Annenberg Legacy Foundation.
Santa Monica’s Annenberg Community Beach House – once media mogul William Randolph Hearst’s 5-acre, 110-room opulent home for his movie-star mistress, Marion Davies – will hold a private celebration. Wallis would surreptitiously visit California’s first public beach club just to watch regular folks have a good time. That’s how she determined her “return on investment” – gauging if the unique space was really serving the “public good.”
The Wallis is another example. Wallis donated $25 million, which seeded roughly $70 million more over ten years to rescue the historic 1933 Beverly Hills post office. It became the Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts – launched with lots of celebrity fanfare in 2013. The Wallis features the 500-seat Goldsmith Theater, the 150-seat Lovelace Studio Theater, GRoW at The Wallis: A Space for Arts Education, a sculpture garden, and a promenade terrace to enjoy the arts and community.
Annenberg, a lesbian who contributed immensely to benefit AIDS and LGBTQ+ organizations, ensured The Wallis’ inclusive mission and core values.
“In honor of PRIDE Month and the contributions of the LGBTQIA+ communities, The Wallis welcomes all to join in a joyful celebration of love, identity, and inclusivity,” the June 6 site says. “The day of prideful celebration includes Bob Baker Marionette Theater, Iwalani Music, Everybody Dance LA, Drag Story Time, Color Me Face Painting, and more!”
The Family Pride Fest is actually culturally subversive. Beverly Hills welcomes LGBTQ+ money, but major pockets in the reddish-purple city are Trumpian conservative. A gay employee brought a lawsuit alleging wrongful termination and discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation and race at Jimmy Choo’s on Via Rodeo Drive!
The Los Angeles Times headline at her death got it right: Wallis “helped transform LA.”
“Her name is ubiquitous in public spaces around Los Angeles: the Wallis Annenberg Building at the California Science Center in Exposition Park,” the LA Times wrote, “and the soon-to-debut Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing in Agoura Hills” over the 101 Freeway between the Simi Hills and the Santa Monica Mountains.
Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing live stream screenshot / Photo: Steve Winter/National Geographic / Video Stream Provided by: The John Logan Foundation
Wallis also created a space for seniors at the Wallis Annenberg GenSpace in Koreatown and the Wallis Annenberg PetSpace, an animal shelter in Silicon Beach that helps rehabilitate “unadoptable” animals before placing them for adoption.
In 2009, Wallis founded the Annenberg Space for Photography in Century City. The site closed during Covid in 2020, but the Annenberg Foundation site features tons of art, photography, films, streaming, and live webcams. Wallis was also a longtime board member of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art and L.A.’s Museum of Contemporary Art. She gave $10 million in 2002 to endow LACMA’s director’s position.
The Annenberg Foundation also responded to the Palisades and Eaton wildfires, funding recovery efforts through nonprofits and organizations such as the Los Angeles Fire Department Foundation and the Team Rubicon Response Fund.
Wallis received many accolades and awards, including the National Humanities Medal from President Joe Biden in 2022.
“Wallis believed that communities flourish when people invest in one another,” Wallis’ adult children Lauren Bon, Gregory Annenberg Weingarten, and Charles Annenberg Weingarten, directors on the Annenberg Foundation board, said in a joint statement when “Wallis Annenberg Day” was declared.
Lauren also offered a unique insight, aligning Wallis’ character with the city she loved.
“My mother came to Los Angeles from a diasporic tradition — from a history that understood movement, reinvention, memory, and the search for belonging. She chose Los Angeles not as a backdrop, but as a place where the future was always being improvised in plain sight. She understood the city’s contradictions: its glamour and loneliness, invention and neglect, vastness and hunger for connection,” Lauren said in a statement released by her Metabolic Studio.
“She also understood that women of her generation were often invited to care, but not always invited to decide. My mother did both. She cared, and she decided. Through her philanthropy, she worked to alter the conditions under which people might live, learn, age, gather, create, and belong.
“For her, care was not a sentiment. Care was infrastructure. It was a door that opened, a classroom, a theater, a beach house, a place for older people to remain visible, a place for animals to be regarded with tenderness, a bridge built so wildlife might cross a wound made in the land.
“She noticed where the connection had been broken, and she did not accept brokenness as permanent.
Wallis Annenberg Day not only remembers her, but asks something of us: What kind of city do we build when care is treated as public work?”
“Wallis Annenberg Day” is the triumph of a virtually self-made woman finally being recognized for what she accomplished and the human being who trudged that long road from “brokenness” to public service to transform LA and people’s lives.
Oh, Wallis could be a bitch with a big snarky bite. But her friends often knew about her struggles and would give her a pass or, especially in 12 Step programs, would gently or firmly tell her to get over herself and get back in the lifeboat.
Several public profiles line up with what Wallis told me about herself during the short time in the late 1980s when we were together. Specifically, “Prodigal Daughter” by Stephen Schiff in the June 1985 issue of Vanity Fair and Bob Colacello’s “Her Own Kind of Annenberg” in Vanity Fair’s October 2009 Issue (published September 14, 2009) are rich with stories and candid interviews with Wallis and some of her friends.
The June 1985 piece starts off with: “It’s not easy growing up in the shadow of one of the wealthiest men in America, but Wallis Annenberg survived. Now she’s emerging as a major force in Southern California society. Here she tells STEPHEN SCHIFF her secrets of philanthropy and party giving, Hollywood-style.”
Ironically, the bible of high society came out in the same month that a Life Magazine hysterical cover declared: “Now No One Is Safe From AIDS” after movie star Rock Hudson finally revealed he was gay and dying of AIDS. Hudson had been diagnosed on June 5, 1984, with a KS lesion on his neck, three weeks after attending a state dinner. At the Reagan White House. By the end of 1984, 130,400 new HIV infections were reported globally.
Wallis’s close friend Joan Rivers was already among mostly women entertainers who were trying to raise money to fight AIDS. Interestingly, Wallis had just met Elizabeth Taylor for the first time on July 16, 1984, when she presented Taylor with the Helen T. Devereux Award at the ceremony in Beverly Hills.
They became friends, and according to a 2022 Vanity Fair report on an Elizabeth Taylor book, it was a note from Wallis that convinced Taylor to co-chair the first critical APLA Commitment to Life gala on Sept.19, 1985, where more than 2,500 people raised $1.3 million for APLA.
“Bill Misenhimer was the director of AIDS Project Los Angeles, and he knew that he needed Taylor’s help,” the report says. “In the end, Misenhimer said, he had to present a note from the philanthropist Wallis Annenberg, who was working with APLA [via lesbian attorney Diane Abbitt and LA Times society columnist MaryLouise Oates], to prove to Taylor that they were a legitimate organization committed to helping AIDS patients.”
Wallis signed on former First Lady Betty Ford to co-chair, as well. In 1975, after Wallis hit bottom following her ugly public divorce, she went to the new Betty Ford Center in Rancho Mirage for therapy and to get clean and sober. Elizabeth Taylor made history as the first major Hollywood celebrity to go to the Betty Ford Center in 1983.
And then the world changed, not only for people with AIDS and Hollywood but for gay people who were being outed by AIDS and abandoned by family and friends, as well as still closeted people like Wallis who had to try hard to pass as straight or lose their family, friends, and status, too.
“If it weren’t for homosexuals, there would be no culture,” Taylor said that night, promising a lifelong commitment to fighting AIDS. “The idea that God should choose his children [to suffer]—his geniuses to whom he had given the talent to make it a different, more beautiful place for us mere mortals—made me so angry.”
By Dec. 19, 1985, the fear was so great that the Los Angeles Times reported that a survey of 2,308 people indicated that 51% would support quarantining people with AIDS.
Wallis was afraid of AIDS, too. One afternoon, when I came home from seeing my friend Johnny Pipkin, who was dying of AIDS, I went to give Wallis a hug. She backed off, holding her hand out to stop me, telling me to go take a shower.
I was surprised. But then I remembered when I sat with my 12 Step sponsor, Stephen Pender, as he was dying. I had a cut on my finger, and I was afraid I might “catch” HIV/AIDS by holding his sweaty arm. I held him anyway. It was 1985, just before I met Wallis. We all gave each other a lot more grace then.
Wallis Annenberg could be cold, a spoiled child, a snarky bitch – and she could be funny, ironically self-deprecating, a loving mother, brave and caring, and transcend all the stares and shifty pleas from people hungry for money and strive to be of real public service.
“Proof of a person,” Wallis Annenberg said at the Sephardic Hebrew Academy, “is when idealism is matched by her deeds.”
Wallis Annenberg earned her “Wallis Annenberg Day” of recognition.
Check out her chat with Good Mornings CBS:
This is a cross-post from Karen Ocamb’s LGBTQ+ Freedom Fighters Substack.
Features
An activist says he’ll stand for trans rights, even if he’s standing alone
Colin Campbell, a volunteer for Trans Youth LA, is determined to show Children’s Hospital its decision to reverse course on trans care won’t be taken quietly
Wearing a flag saying “protect trans kids” and waving a large transgender flag, Colin Campbell stands with a handful of other protestors outside of Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles every Thursday.
In June 2025, the hospital announced it would stop its gender affirming services for transgender youth and young adults. Leadership cited major budget cut threats and federal investigation probes from Donald Trump’s administration for its decision. By the end of July 2025, its Center for Transyouth Health and Development closed.
“Across the country, bills all over are targeting transgender people from health care and access to participation in public life,” Campbell said. “This fascist administration is trying to erase trans people. Restrictions on gender-affirming care put lives at risk, especially for young people and families with limited resources.”
For the last year, Campbell has led the protest charge against the hospital’s decision.
“We’re the longest ongoing weekly street protest for trans kids in the United States, and probably the world,” Campbell said. “This is the civil rights issue of our time.”
Campbell has been to almost every weekly protest since Feb. 20, 2025, as a volunteer for Protect Trans Youth LA. Protect Trans Youth LA is a group of care providers and community members aiming to protect gender affirming care and the safety of trans youth.
“The reason why I admire trans people so much is because they challenge the strict behavioral expectations placed on everyone, and they allow everyone more freedom,” Campbell said.
Rain or shine, at least one person is always protesting outside the hospital each Thursday night at 6 p.m.
”Sometimes it’s just me; sometimes it’s four other people,” Campbell said. “A month or two ago, there were 40 people. It really depends on how much we get the word out there, but we always make sure there’s someone.”
Campbell isn’t new to activism and its importance. He first got involved in activism as a member of ACT UP in 1987 because the government was ignoring victims of the AIDS crisis.
“We fought because we had no choice but to,” he said of his youth activism. “We were dying.”
He felt called to action when he saw Kamala Harris lose the 2024 election and when he saw the immediate attempts to limit trans rights after Trump took office.
He said trans people need allies now more than ever.
“There’s fear in the community, and all the trans kids and trans adults that were marching with us early on in this fight have gone underground,” Campbell said. “They’re afraid because there is danger in our simple protesting.”
Previously, there have been incidents where people jumped out of their cars to harass protestors, physical assaults have happened multiple times, and slurs were commonly yelled early on. Campbell was almost run over by a truck.
“I also think it’s very important that the LGBTQ+ community becomes more united on this issue,” Campbell said. “I’m not a trans person; I’m a cis white gay male, but I’m looking to see more of the letters of the LGBTQ+ involved in this.”
“The time for our community to be fighting for trans rights, and especially trans children, is now,” he added.
During Pride Month, Protect Trans Youth LA launched a petition on Change.org, urging the Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles to continue providing evidence-based care to children.
The petition is addressed to Paul S. Viviano, president and chief executive officer, and is titled “No Child Should Be Denied Care Because of Gender.”
As of July 3, over 200 people have signed, verified by Change.org.
“Week after week, our message has remained consistent: Children deserve healthcare decisions guided by patients, families, and medical professionals—not politics,” a portion of the petition says. “Behind every policy decision is a child, a family, and a future.”
The demands the petition lists include restoring access to gender-affirming care for trans youth, restoring services the hospital’s Center for Transyouth Health and Development used to provide, and reaffirming its commitment to providing healthcare “free from discrimination.”
“This petition is not about politics,” a portion of the petition said. “It is about fairness. It is about equal treatment.”
All Pride Month, Campbell has hit the usual Pride circuit to get signatures on this matter. At Weho Pride, Campbell handed out nearly 5,000 postcards and 1,000 stickers.
Campbell’s activism was highlighted at this year’s Venice Pride. He was honored with the Bill Rosendahl Pioneer of the Year Award for his “tireless advocacy on behalf of transgender youth.”
He was also presented with a certificate of recognition on behalf of the City of Los Angeles and the 11th Council District for his “extraordinary advocacy, leadership, and unwavering commitment to equality.”
“Your efforts have sparked important public dialogue, mobilized thousands of supporters, reaffirmed the values of dignity, fairness, and inclusion that strengthen our communities,” a portion of the certificate said. “The City of Los Angeles proudly recognizes your contributions to advancing equality and protecting the rights and well-being of LGBTQ+ youth.”
Features
Pride and possibility: Dr. Laurie Stephens on neurodiversity, Pride, and self-acceptance
Research reveals an undeniable connection between autism and LGBTQ+ identities, and it may challenge what many folks think they know about both communities
As discussions around identity and self-understanding continue to evolve, research has shown us an important connection between the autistic and LGBTQ+ communities. Studies consistently provide empirical evidence that autistic people are significantly more likely to identify as transgender, nonbinary, bisexual, asexual, or otherwise part of the LGBTQIA+ spectrum. Yet despite the data, public awareness of this intersection is still limited, often overshadowed by antiquated assumptions about autism and a lack of knowledge about how neurodiversity and identity development can intersect. As Pride Month honors the power of authenticity, these conversations have never been more appropriately timed.
Dr. Laurie Stephens, Director of Autism Studies at Help Group, has spent more than three decades working in the mental health field and has become an esteemed voice on the experiences of neurodiverse LGBTQ+ folks. In our conversation, Stephens shares what current research tells us about the overlap between autism and LGBTQ+ identities, the unique challenges faced by those navigating both communities, and the importance of affirming support, self-acceptance, and authentic living. Drawing on both research and lived experiences shared by clients, Stephens provides us with insights into resilience, advocacy, and the progress being made toward a more inclusive understanding of human diversity.
Many folks may likely be hearing about the overlap between the autistic and LGBTQ+ communities for the first time. What has data shown and why do you think this relationship is not well known to the general public?
There is fairly strong evidence that autistic people are substantially more likely than the general population to identify as LGBTQIA+, and researchers have identified increased overlap specifically with transgender, bisexual, nonbinary and asexual identities. In short, studies generally report that autistic people are 2–3× more likely to identify as LGBTQIA+ overall and 3–6× more likely to report gender diversity or transgender identity.
I feel the overlap may not be well-known to the general population due to misperceptions that conceptualize autistic people as socially interested, emotionally unattached and lacking desire for relationships and/or sexual encounters. In addition, the research on the intersectionality of autism and LGBTQIA+ identities is still new, and it can often take many years (up to 10) for research to spill over and be accepted by the general population.
Research has told us that autistic people are more likely to identify as trans, nonbinary, and gender-diverse. They are also more likely to identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, asexual, or otherwise outside traditional heterosexual norms. What do you think this can tell us about identity development and self-understanding?
I think what the research and the lived experience voices tell us is not that autism “causes” LGBTQIA+ identities, but that the overlap reveals something important about how identity develops when social conformity exerts less influence over a person. A common finding in autism research is that autistic people tend to be less guided by implicit social norms. They often learn social rules intellectually rather than automatically absorbing them, and often have a strong sense of ethics. This can create difficulties in some contexts, but it may also produce a different relationship to identity.
It may show us that autistic people are more authentic in their identity development, as they are not always as constrained by social norms or expectations. They may feel freer and at ease with not fitting in or being a part of the “establishment.”
When someone is both neurodivergent and LGBTQ+, what unique challenges can occur that may not be fully understood by either community individually?
It is important to consider the research on dual (or multiple) minority status when considering the challenges faced by autistic/neurodivergent LGBTQIA+ folks. We know from this research that multiple identities are not the sum of each identity. Rather, they are multiplicative in many ways. For example, an autistic person attempting to navigate LGBTQIA+ spaces may find a lack of consideration of sensory needs, physical and emotional overwhelm, differing communication styles, or the functionality of “stimming.” Likewise, in some autism spaces, there may be an inherent assumption of heterosexuality or lack of sexual/relationship interest, and thus no acknowledgement or discussion of SOGIE (sexual orientation, gender identity, and expression) may even take place. Clients have also said that they don’t feel fully understood or validated in solely autistic-focused or solely LGBTQIA+-focused environments.
Further, both identities have a long history of masking who they are, and when one identifies as both autistic and LGBTQIA+, I often find that one of these identities gets masked for longer than when one has a singular identity. Research has been clear on the significant mental health challenges that come from masking, including an increase in depression, self-harm, suicidal thoughts/behaviors, anxiety, and eating disorders.
Another challenge I have found with many of my autistic transgender clients is that sensory factors can play an often unrecognized (and unstudied) role in gender identity and expressions. Sensory processing issues can influence clothing preferences (cannot tolerate wearing pants, discomfort in tight clothing), body awareness (posture, sitting positions), hair styles (cannot tolerate the feel of hair on neck, can’t handle tightness on hair such as wearing a headband or hair tie), and physical intimacy (cannot handle the feeling of skin on skin). This can lead to autistic transgender folks experiencing increased gender dysphoria as it becomes intertwined with sensory needs/preferences in complicated ways.
From your perspective, are there parallels between the experiences of coming out as queer and receiving an autism diagnosis later in life?
There are some clear parallels here. One is that both identities have been historically marginalized; thus, the fear of coming out is real for both autistic and LGBTQIA+ folks, particularly within our current socio-political landscape. Both populations have likely spent a long time feeling different and being unsure of their identities; both go through a long questioning process. With the autistic community, it may be challenging or overwhelming to seek out diagnostic confirmation of your feelings of being autistic, which can delay the coming out process.
But, on the contrary, coming out/getting the diagnosis often confirms feelings of otherness and difference that autistic and LGBTQIA folks experience. These identities can provide a framework from which they can both understand themselves better and to not feel isolated or alone. For both identities, coming out can be the start of acceptance, of themselves and by their broader communities.
In your experience, what does affirming support actually look like when it works well?
In my experience as a therapist, affirming support works best when the person’s identity isn’t necessarily the focus of therapy or discussions. It shows up through acknowledging and accepting the person as who they say they are and not questioning their identity. It’s adapting to their individual needs and goals, rather than assuming that being autistic or LGBTQIA+ alone is the driving mechanism behind their challenges or why they are seeking therapy to begin with.
For example, with one of my transgender clients, her gender identity is rarely the focus of therapy, as it is in and of itself not the underlying cause of her challenges. Affirming support is best realized when the message the client (or person) receives is that we accept who they say they are, and we acknowledge that they are the expert in their identity and their own lived experience.
Many people report feeling unheard or misunderstood within healthcare systems. What are some of the more significant gaps that still exist when it comes to serving neurodiverse LGBTQ+ folks?
The biggest gap is the lack of awareness of the intersectionality of neurodiversity and LGBTQIA+ identities. Too often, one identity or the other may be ignored or downplayed, such as telling an LGBTQIA+ person that they don’t “look autistic.” Further, many health care providers are not trained to work with intersecting identities and thus may feel ill-equipped to work with an autistic LGBTQIA+ person. A provider trained in working with the LGBTQIA+ community may not understand the communication styles of an autistic person, for example. As noted above, there is also a fallacious belief among people who lack experience with the autistic community that autistic people are not emotionally or romantically interested in other people, which often leads to downplaying the person’s questioning of their gender or sexuality.
The single most important change that should happen, in my opinion, is that everyone who works with the autistic population should undergo training in LGBTQIA+ identities, and those who serve the LGBTQIA+ community should also receive training in working with the neurodiverse/autistic community.
The conversation around autism has evolved in recent years, moving from awareness toward acceptance and, in turn, inclusion. Do you see this evolution reflected in LGBTQ+ advocacy?
I think there are some parallels here, as LGBTQIA+ advocacy’s early focus was also on becoming “visible” (awareness) and has moved toward acceptance (we belong). Both advocacy movements have a strong focus on reducing stigma associated with autism and LGBTQIA+ identities. Both have worked toward creating safe environments within the broader community. I think both advocacy movements have also challenged the “social norm” and worked toward others accepting differences as part of the human condition.
Mental health concerns like anxiety, depression, and social isolation can be elevated among both autistic and LGBTQ+ populations. What protections have you seen make a positive impact on mental health?
Extrapolating from research done several years ago by the Trevor Project, the biggest protective factor is having at least one supportive/affirming person in your life. Beyond this, I feel that mental health services that are truly affirming and focus on authenticity over masking are the most helpful. Finding a community is also key. Self-belief and embracing one’s identities are also important protective factors. Accepting yourself in the same way as you accept others (like radical self-compassion) can be extremely helpful. And for some, getting involved with advocacy organizations can help folks feel like they have some agency in how others treat or view them, what rights they have/are entitled to, and providing the lived experience voices needed to allow those from outside the community to begin to understand, affirm, and accept.
What have the neurodiverse LGBTQ+ folks that you’ve worked with taught you about resilience and self-acceptance?
My neurodiverse LGBTQIA+ clients have taught me that to be truly authentic one needs to fully accept themselves and stop taking in societal negativity. Being different isn’t a bad thing and our diversity is what makes humans so interesting. I’ve discovered that self-acceptance is contagious, in that I’ve actually become more accepting and open regarding my own neurodivergence. I’ve seen the high levels of resilience that neurodiverse LGBTQIA+ folks have, particularly in our current political landscape, where autistic and LGBTQIA identities are at times denigrated, yet advocacy and lived experience voices are at their strongest.
As Pride Month celebrates visibility, what does visibility mean for people who have historically felt unseen by both the neurodiverse and LGBTQ+ communities?
To me, events like Pride Month and Autism Acceptance Month give a voice to those who are often not listened to. Feeling like you have some agency in how the world sees you or thinks about you is a powerful tool that I think is often overlooked, and Pride and Autism Awareness months offer these opportunities. Visibility allows the unheard and unseen to speak up, to share their experiences, and to also find their own community. It’s a validation that you are not alone, that you are valid as a person, that you are loved, and that you are accepted.
What gives you hope? Are you seeing real progress in how society understands and supports people living at this intersection of these particular identities?
What gives me hope is the current focus on lived-experience voices and the increased acceptance of a social model of disability over a medical model. The fact that many communities are open to accommodating differences, such as using gender neutral language or offering gender neutral bathrooms, or providing sensory-friendly events, means that progress is happening. There is still a long way to go, but in my 30+ years in the field of mental health, I have been able to see how much of society is open to learning more about autistic, LGBTQIA+, or neurodiverse identities and accepting people for who they are. With young people now being exposed to so many different identities, it allows others to see they aren’t alone and that it is OK to be out and proud.
Another thing that resonates with me is seeing how many more people are identifying and embracing their intersectionalities. Every year at LA Pride events, there are more young folks who come into our Kaleidoscope booth. They proudly and openly identify as autistic and LGBTQIA+, and often are accompanied by supportive parents, families, or friends. Seeing an increase in pride in both identities is what keeps me so invested in the work I do.
Many people spend years, or sometimes decades, of their lives feeling different without fully understanding why. For someone reading this interview who may be questioning their own identity, neurodivergence, or sense of belonging, what would you most want them to hear this Pride Month?
I would want people who may be questioning to know that they are not alone and that the path to self-discovery is not something that needs to be rushed. Sometimes our identities unfold over time, or even change, and that’s OK. I want people to know that neurodiversity has had a positive impact in our world, as most of our discoveries, inventions, art, and creativity came about because people think differently, act differently, process information differently, and experience the world differently. This is to be embraced, rather than seen as a negative. And discovering who you are, be that autistic, neurodiverse, LGBTQIA+, is not closing the door on anything; rather, it opens the door to authenticity, self-understanding and ultimately, self-acceptance.
Check out Helpgroup.org for more information
Features
School of Sexuality Project nonprofit hits the Pride parade circuit to normalize queer sexuality
This all-ages group aims to provide comprehensive sex education in a comedic and impactful way
Bridgett Khoury founded the School of Sexuality Project, a nonprofit, in 2020. The vision was about destigmatizing conversations around body, pleasure, identity, and relationships. Taking a fun, inclusive, and trauma-informed approach has been top of the priority list.
“We believe that using art and humor makes difficult conversations more approachable, relatable, and human,” Khoury said. “Our goal is to kind of blend humor, art, storytelling, and intersectional perspectives in all of our programming to create engaging and meaningful learning experiences.”
Most of that is done through hilarious-looking, larger-than-life genitalia costumes, like the vagina ones worn by participants of all ages at the recent Long Beach Pride Parade in May. Other costumes include penises and condoms.
“We use theatrical humor and hands-on art activities as tools for education and connection,” she said.
Their ethos is that “comprehensive sex education is every individual’s right,” according to the website.
The project is regularly at pride events, as well as local queer events.
“We make sure that we are talking about all parts of identity, sexuality and different bodies,” Khoury said. “It’s important to highlight queer sexuality in sex ed because queer folks cannot live authentically, openly in public as themselves and in their relationships. Until everyone can do that, we need to be having honest and open conversations with young folks.”
The group regularly hosts age-appropriate sex education talks for K-12 and is “proudly gender-expansive and inclusive of all students,” according to its website.
The School of Sexuality Project partnered with Long Beach Pride to host and produce Teen Pride in 2025, though Khoury did say the groups parted ways before planning the event for this year, citing that the two “aren’t fully aligned on our approaches” and decided to host their own event later this summer.
The School of Sexuality Project will be hosting a “Vulva Gala” on August 15 at the First Congregational Church of Long Beach. The community-centered celebration will feature art and education, live music, interactive panels, and its signature vulva costume fashion show.
It is an event that will aim to “challenge stigma and center joy,” Khoury said.
The project recently got a lot of pushback online from parents about a pride event that they hosted with the Queer Mercado at an East Los Angeles high school, through a partnership with the Los Angeles Unified School District. An LGBTQ+ history game was available for students to play, and a guest speaker, Dr. Homie, talked about his experience as a queer veteran. The event also featured a drag performer.
“We’re extremely queer about the way that we approach sex education,” Khoury said. “The event was really simple and had a resource fair.”
Parents were upset that there was no notice or school permission slip that needed to be signed, according to a FOX 11 article. The event was completely optional, and doors were open to all, allowing students to choose to come in or leave at any time, Khoury said.
“A parent saw a video of our drag performer dancing and ended up sharing it with a far-right influencer who describes himself as a ‘fighter of gender ideology,’ so I guess you can imagine the kind of attention that that brought,” Khoury said.
Beyond fueling online backlash, some parents went to the superintendent about it.
“Ultimately, it fizzled out, but the reality is, situations like this are super common for us because of the work that we do,” Khoury said. “There’s so much information and misunderstanding around bodies and identity and sexuality, and that ultimately fuels hate.”
Khoury said that if anything, the backlash is further proof of why more events and education like the project is needed.
“As you know, queer communities are under attack, both through rhetoric and policy,” Khoury said. “It’s becoming more and more difficult for people to live openly and authentically without the fear of being harmed due to all the misinformation that is being spread, so it’s really important that we’re creating safe spaces to discuss sexuality.”
“We need a lot more spaces where young people can learn, feel seen, and engage with community in a positive and supportive way,” she added.
To learn more about the project, visit www.theschoolofsexualityproject.org.
Features
Building belonging: Kathleen Rawson on Pride, policy, and public space in Hollywood
President of the Hollywood Partnership Kathleen Rawson is reenvisioning Hollywood’s streets into a proactive experiment in safety, Pride, and who gets to belong in public space.
While most folks take one look at Hollywood and see a world of silver screens and shattered dreams, Kathleen Rawson sees hope and the responsibility of any good guest, “to leave this neighborhood better than I found it.” Rawson has spent decades thinking about what makes a public space feel alive and genuinely shared by the communities that comprise it. From Santa Monica’s Third Street Promenade to the evolving chaos and potential of Hollywood Boulevard, she’s built a career out of asking a deceptively simple question: how do you make a city feel like it actually belongs to the people walking through it?
In our interview, Rawson moves easily between the practical and the personal – street safety and Pride celebrations, economic development and chosen family, public policy and pop-up Ferris wheels. She talks about building spaces where queer community isn’t an afterthought but an essential part of their design, and about the long, imperfect work of centralizing visibility and belonging. In her telling, urban transformation is personal, political, and constantly in motion.
Can you share with our readers what first drew you to placemaking and public-space management? What lessons from those early experiences still guide your leadership today?
I first became involved in civic leadership in Santa Monica through the Convention and Visitors Bureau, which worked to represent both the hospitality community and the city. That was my first real exposure to civic work.
For me, it was always important to represent a destination, not just a company. I came from the hotel industry, and nearly 30 years ago, I took on the role of leading Downtown Santa Monica. I’m now in my 30th year of this work. At the time, the thinking was that Santa Monica and the Third Street Promenade had already been built, and the main job was simply marketing them. But it quickly became clear that it was much more complex than that.
I became deeply committed to making public spaces accessible to everyone, regardless of who they are or where they are in life. I wanted people to experience a sense of shared community and common good in those spaces, whether they were shopping, eating, going to a movie, walking their dog, or meeting neighbors.
That idea of public space has been my focus for three decades, first in Santa Monica and now in Hollywood. Hollywood brings even more challenges and opportunities. There’s a lot to do, but the possibilities are significant, and we’re focused on making the neighborhood better.
You’re currently leading the Hollywood Partnership. What experiences there most directly inform how you serve the LGBTQ community?
Before leaving Santa Monica, we created the city’s first public Pride celebration. It didn’t exist before, and we designed it to be family-focused and inclusive. West Hollywood had long been the center of Pride, and while it’s a powerful and joyful event, we saw an opportunity for something more broadly accessible in Santa Monica.
When I came to Hollywood in 2022, LA Pride was returning there, where it originally began. I wasn’t deeply involved in the internal politics, but I immediately saw an opportunity to expand beyond the parade itself.
At the time, Christopher Street West was producing concerts at Los Angeles State Historic Park, but I believed there should also be a free, public space where everyone could participate. That became Pride Village.
It was built as an open gathering space after the parade, with artisans, local businesses, community groups, entertainment, and activities for all ages. We even added a Ferris wheel, along with stages, performances, and a wide range of programming. We raised funds, built it with strong City Council support, and launched it successfully.
After a couple of years, Christopher Street West took over Pride Village, which I’m glad about. We still support parts of it, but they now largely run it.
What I’m most proud of is that it created a truly open Pride experience in Hollywood. Last year, it drew people from 97 ZIP codes and about 147,000 attendees, with an average stay of three and a half hours. People came, stayed, engaged with the community, supported local businesses, and that sense of shared space is the real success.
As a queer woman, a mother, and a leader, how have your identities shaped the way you navigate a landscape that is often misogynistic, patriarchal, and unequal?
This is a great question. We have to work harder. We have to be more articulate. We have to be prepared at all times. We have to be family people and professionals simultaneously, and it’s not always easy to keep your footing on both sides of that divide. Men definitely have it easier.
Maybe the next generation will be different. Even our son, who recently turned 22, is keenly aware that life is easier for him than it is for his mothers or his sister. That awareness is something we worked hard to instill, and I think it’s part of how meaningful change happens.
Our kids grew up in a household that was always ready for a protest. We joked that we were “protest-ready.” We always had cardboard, paint, and supplies available because civic engagement was simply part of family life.
A lot of the answer comes down to engagement and involvement, both at work and at home. Our philosophy has always been infiltration. As long as you’re at the table, you have a voice. One piece of advice I often share is that you don’t have to earn a seat at the table. You already have one. All you have to do is sit down. Once you’re there, your words matter. Use them with kindness and integrity. Respect follows from that.
There will always be people who disrespect you. I encounter that every day, and I’m sure you do too. Everybody does. But we’re better than that, so we don’t sink to that level.
You mentioned raising a son who is very aware of his privilege. How do you build that awareness without creating defensiveness? A lot of people see any acknowledgment of privilege as an accusation because it forces them to recognize that certain advantages may come at others’ expense. How did you have those conversations with your son, and what can our readers learn from that?
That’s a good question. The simplest answer is that we raised him that way. It wasn’t a single conversation or a lightbulb moment. It was just part of how we lived. We live on the Westside of Los Angeles, and while we’ve worked very hard, our son also grew up around significant wealth and privilege, which made those realities more visible to him. We focused on values and everyday choices, things like not sending a limo for six-year-olds to birthday parties.
I also remember the unrest in May 2020, when many businesses in downtown Santa Monica were looted. During that time, a board member, who had inherited property through family and had no children, told me, “I’m not privileged, I’ve earned everything I have.” It really stayed with me.
I think a lot of it comes down to reflection rather than defensiveness. You’re unlikely to convince someone who rejects the idea of privilege that they have it, so I focus on where progress is actually possible. That applies in politics, too. I work with elected officials across the spectrum, whether or not I agree with them. Once they’re in office, you either spend all your time fighting or you look for common ground and get things done.
I don’t necessarily believe in “meeting people where they are,” but I do believe in finding shared ground and building from there. Both of our children are politically aware, and because my work is so local, I try to emphasize that real impact comes from your own neighborhood, focusing on progress and community where you are.
How do public spaces like Hollywood Boulevard help foster a sense of belonging, particularly for queer people who may have been pushed out of traditional family structures?
That’s a two-part question. First, it’s about creating a safe and welcoming environment for everyone—whether someone is visiting, working, or running a business, the neighborhood should feel clean, safe, and hospitable. We run a 24/7 dispatch center, and last year we handled more than 420,000 interactions that didn’t require police or fire response. If someone is experiencing a mental health crisis, for example, they see trained ambassadors, not law enforcement, who are there to help.
There are moments that stay with you, like a young person sitting outside the LGBTQ Center after hours, in crisis. Our team stayed with them until medical professionals arrived and accompanied them through the process. In another case, a runaway teenager asked for help getting home, and our ambassadors were able to assist her directly. That’s a big part of the work: providing a safety net and connecting people to services like My Friend’s Place, which supports many young LGBTQ people who’ve left unsafe home environments.
We also do ongoing outreach: checking in on people, offering water, and trying to connect them with support. Those kinds of interactions happen hundreds of thousands of times a year and are focused on quality-of-life needs that fall outside traditional police response. Our homeless population has declined 49 percent year over year, which is encouraging, though many of the most complex cases remain. The goal is simple: make Hollywood more hospitable and supportive for everyone, including the LGBTQ community.
You mentioned homelessness being down 49 percent. How does that work? What role does the Hollywood Partnership play in addressing homelessness, which remains such a major issue in Los Angeles and throughout California?
The Hollywood Partnership isn’t a policy organization. We don’t create homelessness policy. Our role is to provide services beyond what the city offers. The reduction in homelessness is largely due to Mayor Karen Bass’s Inside Safe initiative and the work of Councilmember Hugo Soto-Martínez. We support those efforts.
When an encampment is moved into housing through Inside Safe, our role is often cleanup and restoration. We remove debris, power-wash sidewalks, clear graffiti, and return public spaces to community use. One interesting aspect of Inside Safe is that once an area has been addressed, the city remains committed to keeping it clear. People know outreach workers will return, and in some cases, that helps connect additional individuals with housing.
I’m also vice chair of Hollywood 4WRD, a coalition of businesses, nonprofits, and service providers focused on homelessness. Through that work, we collaborate closely with the city, county, and service organizations throughout Hollywood.
You’re also working to bring historic vacant buildings back into use. Can you tell me about that?
Hollywood Boulevard has many beautiful historic buildings from the 1920s, but a lot of them are currently vacant. There are several reasons for this. Some owners have held properties for generations, others face costly seismic retrofit requirements, and California’s Proposition 13 keeps property taxes low, which reduces pressure to activate unused space.
We’ve been working with Councilmember Soto-Martínez on a proposed sign district to create better incentives. Instead of relying on penalties like a vacancy tax, the idea is to allow digital signage that can generate significant revenue for property owners, under strict conditions. Those conditions would require the signage to respect historic architecture, include public art, and dedicate a portion of revenue back to the community. Importantly, the ground floor must also be active with a real public-facing use: retail, cultural space, or something that contributes to street life.
If owners don’t want to manage it themselves, they can lease the space to us for a nominal fee so we can activate it. The goal is to create a cycle where investment attracts more investment, and more vibrant streets help drive broader revitalization.
You’re no stranger to organizing public events. How do you use these events to invite queer people back into the Los Angeles landscape and create a stronger sense of belonging?
Events create vitality. We intentionally place them in areas that need energy rather than places that are already thriving. One example is the EDM concerts we now host on Hollywood Boulevard. They bring thousands of people into the neighborhood. Events like that create what we call social surveillance; people who might otherwise engage in disruptive behavior tend to move elsewhere when public spaces are active and well-used.
These events also support our nonprofit work. The organizers contribute funding that we reinvest directly into the neighborhood through projects like Pride Village, public improvements, and community programming.
Some people thought I was crazy when I proposed hosting a rave on Hollywood Boulevard. But I believed it was good economic development, and the results proved that. During our first major event, hotels across Hollywood were essentially sold out. That’s a strong sign that an event is benefiting the local economy.
Last question. Looking ahead, what’s your main goal for the Hollywood Partnership over the next few months and years?
I want to leave this neighborhood better than I found it. Leadership is difficult, especially when you’re trying to change systems that have existed for decades. Someone once told me, “People hate two things: the way things are and change.” There’s a lot of truth in that.
My goal is to help Hollywood reclaim its vitality. The neighborhood still has incredible name recognition and cultural significance, but we haven’t invested enough in its future. I’d like to create an economic development corporation focused entirely on our two-square-mile district, attracting businesses, helping small operators succeed, improving storefronts, and making investment easier.
I also want to create more public spaces, including portions of Hollywood Boulevard that can function as plazas for community gatherings and events. We have very little park space in Hollywood. Not long ago, some of our parks had effectively been lost to unsafe conditions. Working with the council office, we’ve helped reclaim those spaces so families and children can use them again.
Those are the structural changes I want to make. I have a few working years left, and my goal is to leave Hollywood stronger, healthier, and moving in the right direction.
Features
TransLatin@ Coalition founder Bamby Salcedo skips California’s jungle primaries
The trans activist “letting the dogs fight for the bone.”
Two years ago, TransLatin@ Coalition Founder and CEO Bamby Salcedo joined sister leaders Queen Chela Demuir, executive director of the Unique Women’s Coalition, and Queen Victoria Ortega, president of FLUX International, in opening the nation’s first general election Vote Center within The Connie Norman Transgender Empowerment Center (CONOTEC) to make voting specifically more safe and accessible for trans and other marginalized voters in Los Angeles County.
“My sisters at CONOTEC have done a great service to our community by securing this Vote Center. We all look forward to casting our vote in our community and appreciate the support as we work towards equality for all,” Salcedo said at the opening on Nov. 1, 2024.
Salcedo is a longtime strong advocate for voting, even appearing on the Trans Rock the Vote cover of the LA Blade on Nov. 1, 2018, with her dear friend, Maria Roman (now Maria Roman Taylorson).
The need for action that year was trumpeted in the Oct. 21, 2018, New York Times headline: “’ Transgender’ Could be Defined Out of Existence Under Trump Administration.”
“It’s important that our community understands the importance of this election. Please vote! Understand that we must put people into office who understand what needs to be done for us to get to a better place in our society,” Salcedo told the LA Blade. “We need people in office who will do the things that need to be done, who work for our people, who are unapologetic, and will not conform to corporations that marginalize all of us. Vote! Claim your power!”
LGBTQ+ voters did turn out – helping Democrats retake the House of Representatives. Election Day exit polling from CNN, NBC News, and the Wall Street Journal in those congressional mid-term elections revealed 6 percent of the voting bloc identified as LGBT. “Once we know what the total voters are, that is likely to be around 7 million voters identified as LGBT,” Human Rights Campaign Chad Griffin told the Washington Blade. “What’s important to note: That means 6 percent of the electorate identified to a stranger, in most cases in a swing state, that they were LGBT. That is a powerful voting bloc, and that is an increase in turnout of LGBT voters from 2016.”
“Decreased social stigma likely explains recent increases in the portion of the population identifying as LGBT,” said Dr. Gary Gates, retired gay demographer at the Williams Institute at the UCLA School of Law. “Further, LGBT voters may feel particularly under threat from a Trump administration that has shown open hostility toward the transgender population and has made several attempts to minimize the visibility of LGBT populations in federal data sources. This could explain increases in LGBT voter engagement and willingness to support Democrats.”
But LGBTQ+ immigrants seeking asylum or just a better life can’t vote – yet.
This is personal for Salcedo. She immigrated to America after surviving a poor childhood with a working single mother and an abusive stepfather in Guadalajara, Mexico, where she juggled school, crime, gangs, drugs, and LGBT friends. Here, she survived as a sex worker while struggling with homelessness and a crystal meth addiction. She also fended off violent homophobia and transphobia in ICE detention as one of many LGBTQ+ immigrants and undocumented individuals who didn’t have the money to post bail.
“The broader LGBT movement doesn’t really understand the issues, needs, and policies of LGBT immigrants and undocumented individuals,” Salcedo told me in 2017. “We’re not powerful monetarily. We have to keep tapping our own community when many of us are struggling ourselves to meet our own basic needs.”
Salcedo got clean and sober, and because of her own experiences – with mentoring from Maria Roman – she started working as an HIV prevention and education teacher at Bienestar for mostly non-English-speaking Latina transgender sex workers. She studied, put herself through college, and worked for eight years running Children’s Hospital Los Angeles’ then-innovative transgender youth program.
Salcedo became a “good troublemaker,” organizing traffic-stopping protests and calling news conferences to demand attention to unacknowledged murders of trans women of color like Viccky Gutierrez, the blatantly discriminatory kidnapping of immigrants thrown into ICE detention without due process, as happened with Alejandra, and the blatant disregard for health issues leading to death as happened to asylum-seeker Roxana, who died of AIDS in ICE custody.
“The LGBT and immigrant communities need to understand that queer immigrants are being criminalized and arrested and put in detention for who we are,” Salcedo told me in 2017 – a time when people still sometimes cared.
Salcedo left the Children’s Hospital in 2009 to create and run the TransLatin@ Coalition. She organized disruptive protests at major events such as Creating Change and AIDS Conferences that were so effective, she was invited back as a guest panelist or featured speaker. She’s been invited to the White House several times and asked to speak before Congress, including on the Equal Rights Amendment as a board member for the ERA Coalition.
With a Master’s Degree in Mexican and Latin@ Studies from California State University, Los Angeles, Salcedo has developed policies and programs that focus on violence prevention, health and wellness, housing and homelessness, and research studies such as TransVisible: Transgender Latina Immigrants in U.S. Society and the Trans Policy Agenda 2024.
TransLatin@ Coalition has grown – despite serious death threats and the COVID shut down – and Salcedo even broke ground on a new facility on April 16. The Trans Wellness and Empowerment Center at 5314 Sunset Boulevard is expected to open in late 2027.
Cheered on that day by chants of “sí se puede,” an emotional Bamby Salcedo said: “Even when we thought we couldn’t get off the streets, back in the ’80s, when there was no support, no help for any of us, we could only dream, but this place is now a reality.”
Also, a reality is the rightward trend of the Democratic Party, with political consultants telling candidates to stay away from “identity politics” and trans issues. Now, the TransLatin@ Coalition is being attacked by members of Congress for working with immigrants.
“They’re calling us a radical organization,” Salcedo told the Washington Blade last August. “They’re spreading lies, saying we’re using government funding to abolish ICE and the police and to provide abortion access. We do believe in those things, but the funding we receive is used to serve our people.”
Salcedo succeeded in passing fiscal bills in the State Legislature. But federal funding is gone. “Our work has been defunded,” Salcedo said. “The private sector is pulling back. Philanthropy is scared. Even the same corporations that fund us during Pride are investing in our opposition the rest of the year. It’s hypocrisy.”
People need to step up. “We have the strategy. We’re doing the work. But we need resources — and we need real solidarity, not just statements.”
Last year, Salcedo made a conscious decision to focus locally because of a migration of trans people from other states who need support.
“That’s why, for us, it’s not just about passing legislation,” Salcedo said. “We want to ensure that there is legislation coupled with resources, with something tangible that our community can benefit from.”
Which leads to the June 2 jungle primaries and the tight races for governor and LA City Mayor.
“So, to be completely honest,…it’s kind of a mess right now.” Salcedo has decided to wait for the midterms. “I’m letting the dogs fight for the bone,” she said.
But there’s more to it. “The Democratic Party is moving more to the right because it’s winnable. And so, what that means is that people will go with this rhetoric…trying to convince more conservative people – because they want for those people to vote for them…But that also means that it could potentially reverse some of the gains that we have gotten as a people, as a community,” Salcedo said.
“That’s why, for this election, June 2nd, I’m just staying quiet until we see what happens after,” she continued. “They’re forgetting the people who are the ones who put them in office, right?… And in some ways, they’re also being traitors. The very people who they said, when they’re campaigning, that they are going to fight for.”
Check out Karen’s Zoom conversation where Bamby Salcedo shares more thoughts on creating a Victory Fund-style program for trans folks, as well as comments on Pride Month and the 45th Anniversary of the first CDC report on AIDS.
This is a cross-post from Karen Ocamb’s LGBTQ+ Freedom Fighters Substack.
Features
Still marching: Rev. Troy Perry and the ongoing fight for liberation
As “Steps to Liberation” transforms Founders MCC into a commemorative rainbow monument, Rev. Troy Perry reflects on the beginning of Pride and the ongoing power of radical representation
Long before tone-deaf Target swag and rainbow-scented hashtags lit up the very queer month of June, Rev. Troy Perry was helping the LGBTQ+ community create space where it did not yet exist, and he did so with little more than faith and perseverance. This Pride season, as communities around the world fight once again with rising attacks on LGBTQ+ rights and democratic freedoms, Perry returns to the movement he helped build for a conversation rooted not only in history but in survival. The unveiling of Steps to Liberation at Founders Metropolitan Community Church serves as an uplifting reminder that Pride is not just a parade but also serves as a commitment to continue to advocate for our community.
Joined by original rainbow flag co-creator Lynn Segerblom, Perry looks back on the legacy of the first Pride marches, the spiritual and political power of real representation, and why the rainbow flag still matters nearly fifty years after its creation. As Founders MCC transforms its front steps into a vibrant rainbow pathway, the symbolism feels especially timely – freedom is not a destination, it’s something communities continuously build together, step by step. In our interview, Perry speaks candidly on activism, faith, and his continued belief that even in difficult times, hope remains an unwavering act of resistance.
You’ve been at the forefront of LGBTQ+ history for decades. What does this moment, unveiling Steps to Liberation, mean for you? You’ve often spoken about visibility as an act of courage. Why is that still not only true but also essential today?
I will be 86 years old in another month. Not in the best of health and in a wheelchair, but still a LGBTQ+ activist at heart. I tell my husband, Phillip De Blieck, that I never thought I would live this long. He and I will be celebrating our 41st anniversary this year.
In the early days of our struggle for our liberation, I used to cut up and tell people there’s just nothing like a good demonstration to get my heart pumping. This is what I feel as we dedicate the Steps of Liberation! Another symbol of our freedom. We’re here, we’re queer, and we’re gonna fight to our last breath, to win all the rights that the colors on the steps represent.
When you think back to organizing the first Pride march in Los Angeles, what emotions or memories visit you?
Having the guts to follow through on our vow to hold a pride parade, no matter what! We did follow through and sued the city of Los Angeles for the right to hold that parade. We won! Thank God for the ACLU. The next thing I thought was, my God, look at all the people who have come out to be in the parade, and to watch it. I was also thankful that no one was hurt that day, and the pride I had of being a part of that demonstration.
How does this new installation reflect the spirit of those early days of activism?
The steps of liberation tell all who see it that we are still here and not afraid after 56 years have passed since our first pride parade.
The theme of IDAHOBIT 2026 is “The Heart of Democracy.” In your view, how has the LGBTQ+ movement played its part in influencing our country’s democracy?
I think that most of us have played by the rules and use the cards dealt to us to make a difference in our democracy here in the USA. The LGBTQ+ community has changed so much in 56 years. Today, members of our community are serving in every political office in our country. We have gay and bisexual city council members, lesbian governors, and trans state legislators. We have a gay man who has run for president of the United States. The heart of democracy is a right given to all of us to work to change our country so that all of us are treated the same. Nothing more, nothing less!
You’ve often spoken about visibility as an act of courage. Why is that still not only true but also essential today?
I tell groups of young LGBTQ+ people to be yourself. Flaunt it! Coming out of the closet is the best thing you can do. Whether you come out fast or slow, just come out. If you are going to do it, now is the time. I am so proud of young people who are using the Internet, TikTok, and YouTube to make a difference for us. Your siblings are looking for you!
What do you hope someone feels the first time they walk up the Rainbow Steps?
God, does this feel good! Why didn’t I do this a long time ago?
How has faith intersected with activism in your life?
This is my testimony. Most of my relatives would tell you that I have been deeply spiritual all my life. I have had the opportunity to live a very interesting life. I started preaching when I was 13 years old. I was licensed to preach in the Southern Baptist church at age 15. I married heterosexually at age 18. I started pastoring my first church at age 19. I am the father of two children. I am a Vietnam-era veteran. I was divorced at age 26 and founded Metropolitan Community Church at age 28. I have been slapped in the face, spat on, had some people try to murder me, and cursed by some throughout my life, all because I dare call myself a clergyman as a gay man. Has it been worth it? Absolutely. I would not change my life for anything. I try to always keep my faith intact.
In moments when progress feels uncertain or under threat, what keeps your hopes up?
I have my husband, Phillip, and friends that I can talk to. I also have a favorite scripture that keeps me going: though God slay me, I will trust in God. Job 13:15
How do you see younger folks carrying forward the legacy you helped build?
Don’t give up the fight. Organize, organize, organize!
The launch of Flag50 looks ahead to the 50th anniversary of the rainbow flag. What do you think folks should be reflecting on as that milestone approaches?
I love the pride flag! It gives us hope that there can be a tomorrow. I love the colors and what they represent. Hopefully, we will be able to teach this in our schools one day, along with the American flag and how each of those colors is meant to give us dignity, as well as hope.
How do art and public installations like this one shape cultural change in ways that perhaps policy can’t?
Laws are important because they protect us, but art touches the heart first. A public installation like the Steps of Liberation tells our story without anyone having to say a word. A young person can walk up those steps and realize they are not alone. Families can see our colors and remember that LGBTQ+ people are part of every community in America. Art creates visibility, and visibility changes hearts and minds. Sometimes culture changes before politics catches up. I believe symbols matter. The rainbow flag matters. These steps matter. They remind us that liberation is not just something you read about in history books. It is something we continue to live every day.
What threats facing our LGBTQ+ community today concern you more than others?
I worry when people try to erase us, especially our transgender brothers and sisters and LGBTQ+ young people. I have lived long enough to know that fear and hatred can grow when people stop seeing each other as human beings. We cannot go backward. I also worry when people become discouraged and think their voice no longer matters. That is exactly when we must organize, vote, speak out, and stand together. We have survived attacks before, and we will survive them again, but only if we refuse to be silent. Silence has never protected our community. Courage and love have.
What does it mean to you to take that next step, and how would you advise our readers to take it?
Every generation has its own next step to take. For some, it means coming out. For others, it means speaking up when someone is being mistreated. It may mean marching, voting, creating art, serving your community, or simply learning to love yourself exactly as God made you. The important thing is not to stand still. Keep moving forward. Keep believing that change is possible. I have spent my whole life taking one step after another with people who dreamed of a better world. My advice is simple: do not wait for someone else to do the work. Take the next step yourself, and bring somebody with you.
Features
Sam Asghari talks allyship and his new MISTR partnership
The reality star breaks down his new role as the healthcare service’s newest ambassador.
When people think of Sam Asghari, they often think about his TV career, his long history as a model, or even his love life — but not enough know just how much of an advocate this professional really is.
Many first met Asghari through his time on reality TV; the man earned acclaim for his hilariously soft-spoken tenure on season three of The Traitors. This came after many years as a model — as well as former husband to a certain pop star — with the reality series showing that he could stun as much onscreen as he could on a runway. Yet even though recent years have seen thousands of fans fall in love with Asghari’s quiet charm, far too many of these new supporters still don’t realize how important LGBTQ+ advocacy is to Sam today.
Asghari has spent recent years speaking out against queer discrimination in both the United States and his home country of Iran. Yet while he’s never been shy about his support, there hasn’t yet been an opportunity to really use his platform to fight for this community on a larger level. Well, luckily for us all, Asghari’s newest (and possibly sexiest) project will give him the chance to do just that, as Sam was just announced as the newest ambassador for the United States’ largest provider of free online PrEP, MISTR.
“It’s an honor and a pleasure to kick off this allyship with such a great company making such a huge impact!” raved Asghari, as he sat down with the Los Angeles Blade to discuss this new partnership. The interview took place in West Hollywood’s The Abbey, a club that’s become a second home to Sam in recent years; the model was seen at almost every one of the many events that MISTR hosted at the club in 2025. “My best friends, my mentors, and everybody that I adore that make me who I am — [they all] just happen to be [LGBTQ+]! [But] where I come from…people within this community don’t get to say it outright.”
Sam spoke about witnessing queer discrimination early on in his life through the treatment of these communities in Iran, describing, “They have to hide away…they [get punished] just for being themselves.” It’s a prejudice that he has unfortunately seen grow across the U.S. in recent years, which is what made him realize that he needed to do more for these groups who’ve helped him become who he is today. “I feel a huge responsibility on my shoulders to not only represent [them], but be the voice of [those facing discrimination] when I can.”
This is why he was thrilled to be the newest addition to the MISTR family, a brand that queer Angelinos will know well; plastered around the city — but especially in West Hollywood — are ads for the service, each ad featuring muscular men in speedos preaching about the importance of PrEP and long-term HIV care. The company has perfected this versatile form of marketing, not only catching people’s attention with the fun on display but underlying it with a serious mission of revolutionizing queer healthcare. It’s proven itself as both a serious provider of health services and a constant stream of scintillating fun — meaning it was just the right opportunity for Sam Asghari.
“MISTR does such a great job as creating not only awareness, but providing the tools for everybody to have PrEP…they’re trying to raise awareness in the biggest ways possible,” Asghari explained, when discussing what drew him to the company in the first place. “I needed it more than they needed me,” he joked. “Not only do I [get] to have a good time, [but] I also get to make this world a better place.”
It’s a collaboration that fans are already loving; the first images of Sam donning MISTR’s iconic blue Speedo were met with acclaim from thousands of LGBTQ+ users online earlier this week. While definitely entertaining on a superficial level, the deeper aspects of these initial photos speak to the style of advocacy that Sam Asghari has spent his entire life building. He is willing to literally bare it all to raise awareness of important issues affecting queer folks around the globe. And while the collaboration does focus around him, he’s pursuing it knowing that his role as an ally means that unaware portions of his usual audience will suddenly get to learn about the vital resources MISTR offers today. “This campaign is going to be something extremely sexy, and it’s going to open a lot of eyes in a good way. So be ready.”
This is the perfect time for Sam Asghari to use the massive amount of thirst his fans have for him to educate them on the importance of queer healthcare. It’s why he was so honored and thrilled to be named MISTR’s newest ambassador. And it’s why, through his new campaign, Sam Asghari may just help this company uplift more people in need than it ever has before.
Features
From above our heads to underneath our steps: Lynn Segerblom’s ongoing journey of Pride through public art
Lynn Segerblom, the co-creator of the rainbow flag, shares how one rooftop sewing project in 1978 San Francisco became one of the most recognized and revered queer beacons in the world.
Ages before the rainbow flag became an internationally acknowledged symbol of LGBTQ pride and joy, Lynn Segerblom was already living in the fullest spectrum of colors. Formerly known in 1970s San Francisco as “Fairy Argyle Rainbow,” the artist and self-described lover of color therapy was hand-dyeing fabrics on rooftops, sewing giant panels of muslin, and unknowingly helping to create one of the most widely recognized emblems in queer modern history. Now, nearly five decades later, Segerblom is still channeling that same spirit, this time through Steps to Liberation, a permanent rainbow staircase installation at Founders Metropolitan Community Church (MCC) in Los Angeles.
In our interview, Segerblom dishes on the chaotic creation of the original 1978 rainbow flags, the exhilaration of watching them fly over San Francisco’s UN Plaza for the very first time, and why public art is so essential now more than ever, at a moment rife with division and political tensions. Equal parts whimsical, wise, and authentic, Segerblom speaks about rainbows being so much more than mere symbols. They have the power to also act as experiences meant to be immersed in and shared as a community.
You helped create one of the most recognizable symbols in the world, the rainbow flag, in 1978. What inspired you, and what did that moment feel like for you?
I was working at the Gay Community Center at 330 Grove Street in San Francisco. I rented a small room there where I did dyeing and sewing because that was how I made a living. Some people in the office asked if I wanted to help create decorations for the 1978 Pride parade, which was only the second parade in San Francisco at the time. They said there would be flag poles available and asked if I thought I could make flags. I said yes because I had made smaller flags before for another project.
A meeting was arranged with Gilbert Baker, James McNamara, and me to discuss ideas for the flags, but I was the only one who showed up. At the time, my name was Fairy Argyle Rainbow, and everyone knew me as “Rainbow.” I was already deeply involved with color healing, tie dye, batik, and making colorful clothing and art. So I said, “Let’s make rainbow flags.” It just felt natural to me.
We planned two giant rainbow flags for the UN Plaza flag poles, which were about 80 feet tall, along with smaller rainbow flags around the reflecting pool. The idea of the rainbow was already part of who I was.
You were already using the name “Rainbow” before the flag existed. Where did that come from?
I loved rainbows and color long before the flag project. Since junior high and high school, I had been teaching myself tie dye, batik, sewing, and painting fabrics. I loved bright colors, soothing colors, and deep colors. A friend in the theater company I worked with started calling me “Fairy,” like the fairies in old folklore, and “Argyle” came from her last name. “Rainbow” came from my love of creating rainbows in my artwork. I even had a driver’s license that said Fairy Argyle Rainbow on it. In the 1970s, that was possible.
What was the actual process of making the original flags like?
It was a massive undertaking. We were working with huge amounts of white cotton muslin that had to be dyed by hand. Every piece had to be washed, dried, ironed, measured, pinned, cut, and sewn. We brought sewing machines, ironing boards, scissors, and all our tools into the community center.
At first, we realized the project was far bigger than we expected. I started dyeing fabric on the rooftop of 330 Grove using giant trash cans and the fire hose because it was too messy to do inside. Helpers would carry the soaking wet fabric down to laundromats, wash and dry it, and bring it back.
As far as sewing, it was mostly James McNamara, Gilbert Baker, and me doing the work. James really knew how to sew and taught Gilbert a lot. We had volunteers helping with errands and ironing, but the actual construction of the giant flags was difficult work.
What did it feel like seeing the flags raised for the first time?
It was such a relief. We had been afraid we would not finish on time. Once we started, we realized how enormous the project really was. Each completed flag took three people to carry because they were so heavy.
When we finally saw them flying at UN Plaza, especially in the San Francisco wind, it was incredible. Those huge pieces of fabric were soaring in the sunlight. I was mostly relieved that they worked and that they fit the flag poles correctly. We had put so much effort into them.
Did you ever imagine the rainbow flag would become a worldwide symbol?
No, not at all. We were focused on making something beautiful for the Pride parade. At that time, the parade was still very grassroots. There was no big stage or production. We simply wanted to create something meaningful and uplifting.
I never imagined it would become an international symbol. Gilbert was a very good promoter, but at the time, I was simply focused on creating the design and making the flags happen.
Your new “Steps to Liberation” project transforms the rainbow flag into something people can physically walk through. You said the steps feel like the flag coming to life. What do you mean by that?
The design for the steps is beautiful. The staircase leading into the church will be painted in rainbow colors, and the church doors will be painted indigo, which feels grounded and strong. It really does feel like the flag coming to life because people can physically move through it.
A flag waves above you, but these steps allow people to literally walk into the colors and experience them. That feels powerful to me.
How does “Steps to Liberation” reinterpret the rainbow flag for a new generation?
Today, people are generally much more comfortable expressing who they are openly. Decades ago, many LGBTQ people felt forced to stay hidden. Now, more people can say openly who they are and live authentically, even though there are still places in the world where that is dangerous.
The rainbow steps represent openness, visibility, and acceptance. They invite people to physically experience those ideas instead of just seeing them from a distance.
You have a background as a muralist and public artist. Why is public art so important?
Public art allows people to physically connect with something. They can see it, touch it, walk through it, and experience it directly. Art is not just visual. It can also affect people emotionally and spiritually.
Color especially has a strong effect on people. If you see a garden full of colorful flowers, most people feel moved by it. Rainbow colors can create joy and healing in a similar way.
What do you hope people feel as they walk up the rainbow steps?
I hope they feel inspired. I hope they feel accepted and uplifted. Founders MCC has been welcoming people for nearly 60 years, and these steps reflect that spirit of openness and community. People can come there with family or friends and feel that they belong.
The original rainbow flag emerged during a very different cultural moment in the late 1970s. What has changed since then?
There was a lot of cultural and political upheaval in the late 1970s. LGBTQ people were still struggling heavily for visibility and acceptance. Today, many more people feel able to live openly. That progress matters. At the same time, there are still challenges, and we still need visibility and community support.
How do you see art contributing to activism today?
Art allows people to express feelings, emotions, and imagination in ways that others can connect with. People can experience it visually, emotionally, or spiritually. Art gives people a way to participate and feel connected.
When the rainbow flags were flying in the wind in San Francisco, it created an emotional experience. Public art still has that power today.
The “Flag50” initiative will lead toward the 50th anniversary of the rainbow flag in 2028. What excites you most about that project?
I am amazed that it has already been nearly 50 years since we created those original flags. It brings me joy to see rainbow flags around the world because they represent equality and people coming together. I also hope the history is remembered accurately and that the people who helped create the original flags receive recognition for their work.
What responsibility do artists have when working with symbols that hold deep cultural meaning?
Artists should treat those symbols with care and respect. People need inspiration, and art can provide that. Art has always been part of human culture across the world. People should also feel encouraged to create their own art and express themselves.
How do you balance honoring the past while still evolving the message for today?
The message is still very simple: be yourself and accept others. We are all human beings. We may have different backgrounds, beliefs, or identities, but we can still respect each other. Art helps communicate that in ways that people can feel emotionally.
At a time when LGBTQ rights still face challenges, how can creativity strengthen resilience and resistance?
By creating things. By making art, music, performances, or projects that express who people are. Creativity reminds people they are not alone. When artists come together around a shared project, there is a strong sense of community and connection.
Looking ahead to the 50th anniversary of the rainbow flag, what do you hope the world understands more clearly by then?
I hope people learn to be more accepting of one another. The most important thing is living a good life and helping others do the same. And I also hope the true history of the flag and the people who created it are remembered accurately.
Features
From the Boy Scouts to West Hollywood: Len Lanzi on identity, resilience, and reinvention
A successful Boy Scout executive, a Supreme Court controversy, and the public outing that rerouted the trajectory of one man’s life
Before he became a prominent civic and business leader in West Hollywood, Len Lanzi was a simple kid from a blue-collar Italian American family in Rhode Island, balancing Boy Scouts, church, school, and a swelling sense that life could contain several different paths at the same time.
Years before conversations around LGBTQ+ inclusion became part of the mainstream narrative, Lanzi was intentionally creating a career inside one of America’s most traditional institutions, eventually rising through the ranks of the Boy Scouts of America while also navigating life as a gay man in a time when being open and honest could cost him everything. What resulted would put him at the center of one of the country’s most consequential cultural happenings surrounding discrimination and institutional power.
In our conversation, Lanzi shares the journey that took him from New England to California, from mental health work to nonprofit leadership, and ultimately into the national spotlight after being fired by the Boy Scouts in the wake of the organization’s landmark Supreme Court case on gay membership. With honesty and a touch of well-timed humor, Lanzi speaks about resilience, public scrutiny, and the complicated dynamics of acceptance and stigma. And he does this all while also offering insight into the experiences that continue to impact his work today as the new president and CEO of the West Hollywood Chamber of Commerce.
I’d love to start from your early days and childhood. What was it like for you growing up, and what sparked your interest from a young age?
I grew up in a blue-collar Italian American family in Rhode Island and was very involved in the Boy Scouts, church, and school activities. I attended the University of Rochester, where I became active in fraternity leadership and Navy ROTC. After college, I moved to San Diego in 1985 to escape New England winters and initially worked in a psychiatric hospital, which gave me a strong understanding of mental health and addiction issues that still informs my work today.
In 1987, I joined the Boy Scouts professionally. As an Eagle Scout, it felt like a natural career path, and I spent years working my way through the organization. During that time, I also came out as gay in my early twenties and met my partner, who I’ve now been with for 36 years. We later moved to San Francisco, which was the first place I truly felt accepted as a gay man, before my work with the Scouts eventually took us to Santa Barbara.
In 2000, during the Boy Scouts Supreme Court case over gay membership, I was publicly outed while serving as a Scout Executive. Shortly after acknowledging publicly that I was gay, I was asked to resign. It was an incredibly difficult experience that reshaped my life and perspective on advocacy, leadership, and community.
After leaving the Scouts, I rebuilt my career through nonprofit leadership, fundraising, startup and venture capital work, and eventually chamber leadership. Those experiences gave me a deep understanding of business challenges, organizational change, and the importance of compassionate leadership, all of which I bring to my role today at the West Hollywood Chamber of Commerce.
There’s a theme of being able to navigate tumultuous times that also offers you this perspective of how to address changing needs. In your experience so far in West Hollywood, specifically, how have you seen those needs change in the community and from businesses? How are you trying to address that today?
West Hollywood is a very small but highly engaged city, and that creates both strengths and challenges. One of the biggest issues right now is the rising cost of doing business, especially for restaurants and hospitality businesses. Policies intended to improve wages and affordability have also increased operating costs dramatically, particularly after COVID changed business models for many restaurants.
The city is trying to address these issues through grant programs and support initiatives, which I think is a positive first step. But I also believe long-term solutions require collaboration with surrounding communities and a careful look at unintended consequences. My role at the Chamber is to advocate for businesses in a constructive way while helping policymakers understand the realities business owners are facing.
Do you feel like the city’s responses are adequate to address that rising tension?
I think the city’s intentions are good, and they recognize the challenges businesses are facing. But policy changes are difficult to reverse once they’re implemented. My approach is less about blame and more about finding common goals and practical solutions that create a win for both businesses and the community.
What was it like to come into the role at WeHo’s Chamber of Commerce and assess the legacy left for you? What did you feel about the state of it?
I came into a healthy chamber that already served its members well, but I also saw opportunities to modernize and expand services. The way people work and run businesses has changed dramatically, especially with remote work and home-based businesses. Part of my focus is figuring out how the Chamber can better support those evolving needs while continuing to advocate for local businesses in a collaborative, non-adversarial way.
What you’re saying about political involvement, that muddying the waters, reminds me of what you dealt with earlier on at the Boy Scouts — of being forced, in a way, by people to speak out or to rebel when you didn’t want to do that. Do you see similarities in your personal life, and has the attitude that you have towards that changed over the years?
I do see similarities. My experiences taught me that confrontation alone rarely creates lasting change. I’ve learned that compassion, transparency, and empathy are far more effective than treating everything as a battle. That philosophy shapes both my leadership style and how I approach advocacy today.
Did you ever in that moment regret having dealt with the situation the way you did?
No. I have no regrets. I would handle it the same way again.
What was that process of rebuilding your life like after that? Because you were part of that for so long and you also grew up with the Boy Scouts.
One thing that helped me was getting into therapy immediately while everything was happening. My background in mental health made me understand the importance of focusing on the future instead of getting stuck in the past. That mindset really transformed how I approached rebuilding my life and career.
There’s also something you mentioned earlier about when you moved to the Bay Area, it was the first time that you felt really accepted, or that you could live as yourself. And when thinking about cities that are healthy ecosystems for queer people, does West Hollywood give you a similar feeling as the Bay Area did when you were initially there?
Absolutely. In some ways, even more so. West Hollywood feels very personal and community-driven. I don’t feel judged here because of my sexual orientation. I’m just Len. My relationship is simply one part of my life, not the thing that defines me.
I know we were talking about leading the chamber into responsible advocacy. Does LGBTQ+ advocacy flow into that mission as well?
Of course. LGBTQ+ advocacy is naturally connected to this community and its business landscape. I want to ensure we continue moving forward on equality and inclusion, not backward. At the same time, I believe meaningful progress comes from dialogue, empathy, and helping people better understand each other.
What is your approach to changing people’s minds? Is it through just sitting down with people, one on one and talking to them, or is it through other means for you?
I think it’s mostly through actions and how you treat people. I’ve found that responding with empathy and compassion is far more persuasive than being combative. People are more willing to listen when they feel respected and understood.
At this point in life and in your career, what does transformation in this next process or future look like for you and for your vision of the Chamber and West Hollywood?
I’m still figuring that out. But I do believe organizations have to evolve if they want different results. My background in startups taught me the value of trying new things quickly, learning from failure, and adapting. I’d like to bring that mindset to the Chamber while also building trust with businesses, city leaders, and the community.
Personally, what are the sorts of things that are keeping you afloat or keeping you active and interested outside of your chamber role?
Community service is a huge part of my life. I’m involved with Rotary International, Meals on Wheels West, and Pride Republic, the LGBTQ supporters group for LAFC. I’m also active in my neighborhood association. I’ve always believed in giving back and helping build stronger communities.
Did you feel like your relationship to the gay community changed after that incident? Was it harder for you to find friendships or find community?
It definitely created some distrust that stayed with me for a long time. But being part of the West Hollywood community has helped heal some of that over the years.
Do you feel like the gay community asking you to come out and denounce the Boy Scouts was sacrificial?
At the end of the day, it got me fired but didn’t really change the outcome for anyone else. That experience reinforced my belief that confrontation without a path toward mutual understanding rarely leads to meaningful progress. I’ve always believed in finding common ground and creating situations where everyone can move forward together.
White House orders warning signs at Smithsonian over gender identity exhibits
US official protested at 2026 International AIDS Conference
‘Heated Rivalry’ star takes it off in new ads for Under Armour
Tello Films opens the door to Christmas in July
Trump ends direct HIV prevention funding to community groups
Ellen Greene returns to ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ for the film’s 40th anniversary
From pornstar to psychotherapist: How diverse life experiences shaped my therapeutic perspective
Things are heating up: Summer gym etiquette
Aging with HIV: The Latino Commission on AIDS honors National Latino Older Adults & HIV/AIDS Awareness Day
‘Into the Grey’ unites Cavill, Gyllenhaal for thrills and gay love
-
a&e features2 days agoEllen Greene returns to ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ for the film’s 40th anniversary
-
Commentary3 days agoFrom pornstar to psychotherapist: How diverse life experiences shaped my therapeutic perspective
-
AIDS and HIV5 days agoAging with HIV: The Latino Commission on AIDS honors National Latino Older Adults & HIV/AIDS Awareness Day
-
Fitness2 days agoThings are heating up: Summer gym etiquette
-
Movies4 days ago‘Into the Grey’ unites Cavill, Gyllenhaal for thrills and gay love
-
Germany3 days ago1 dead, 29 injured in Berlin Pride attack
-
a&e features3 days agoLaverne Cox Is ‘Transcendent’ At Madame Tussauds Hollywood
-
Social Media Platforms2 days agoHow ‘Staples Baddie’ Kaeden Rowland is fighting for a queerer workplace
-
Politics2 days agoWeho’s GYM bar owner Jonathan Cottrell is running for city council
-
National1 day agoTrump ends direct HIV prevention funding to community groups