Lackluster. Boring. Unfortunate. The night before California started distributing mail-in ballots in the critical Nov. 3 midterm elections, CNN hosted a debate between gubernatorial candidates Democrat Xavier Becerra and Republican Steve Hilton that looked like two typecast actors in beat-up bumper cars trying to gin up publicity for a lackluster B-movie.

At a time when voters are angry and hungry for authenticity, the debate felt too staged, too stale, and overly rehearsed. The moderators asked expected questions about the cost of living, housing, homelessness, immigration, and AI against the backdrop of the real question: who can best stand up to Donald Trump?

And the candidates dodged specifics. For instance, Hilton proudly touted his “10 New Cities” approach to affordable housing. He wants individual counties to bid on hosting the construction of new master-planned communities and essentially find ways around resistance to new development from local residents and local governments.

Becerra would take a more predictable course, cutting red tape, reducing administrative and bureaucratic obstacles to getting construction permits, and filing lawsuits against cities that refused to approve new housing.

“No locality should have the right to try to stop all of our people in California from having the housing they need,” Becerra said.

That begs so many questions: how is housing being defined here and for whom – for sale, for rent, or shelters as group homes? Must gated communities be open to those they previously restricted based on race, ethnicity, or gender?

Hilton said he would cut funding for high-speed rail and homelessness nonprofits and reduce state government departments’ budgets by 5% to get his needed funding, per cbs8.com.

Becerra noted that Trump has already blocked federal funding for local homelessness agencies. Would Hilton go after that money? Would he be willing to comply with Trump/Project 2025’s anti-DEI policy to get funding and fast-track other federal assistance?

Becerra has a double-digit lead over Hilton and was given kudos by post-debate commentators for just showing up. But Becerra is also aware of the need not to disrespect the voters by shrugging off the event, as if he has the race locked up. As the old Yankee baseball legend Yogi Berra used to say, “It ain’t over until it’s over.”

A new poll from The Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research finds that only 17% of U.S. adults approve of Trump’s handling of the cost of living and 26% approve of Trump’s handling of the economy overall. A sizable majority, 65%, blame high costs on Trump’s tariffs and his war with Iran.

But there was no sense of urgency from either candidate about the importance of this election or in getting out the vote.

With Trump again threatening to impose the Insurgency Act, Democrats are working to stretch the margins of victory to stop cold any discussion about rigged elections.

But neither candidate was asked about that nor how they would handle a local version of the Jan. 6 storming of the Capitol to prevent certification of the vote results.

Nor were they asked how they would react if Trump federalized the National Guard and ordered the military to join ICE in “protecting” polling places and ferreting out anyone without multiple pieces of identification that match their birth certificate.

What can Becerra and Hilton do now to demonstrate the kind of leadership they would bring to the governor’s office in Sacramento?

This is not an idle question.

The usually mild-mannered Xavier Becerra – who expressed his displeasure with Hilton’s inaccurate stories by smirking or rolling his eyes – turned to his opponent in what felt like both a real and rehearsed moment of candor and, after noting that Hilton, too, is an immigrant, called out Hilton’s acceptance of Trump’s endorsement, immigration raids and mass deportation campaign.

“You seem to welcome immigrants who look like you, but deport immigrants who look like me,” Becerra said in a breath-stopping moment. Hilton, a former adviser to British Prime Minister David Cameron, apparently had praised the deportation campaign as “perfect” last January on Fox News. He seemed taken aback by Becerra’s comment, which he called “disgraceful.” He then dodged questions about California’s sanctuary state law, which requires law enforcement to limit cooperation with immigration officials. Would he direct California officers to assist in Trump’s ICE campaign?

Hilton wanted to “turn down the temperature” on that debate.

Hilton kept pitching for voters to choose something “different” to change California and fix the mess created by Democrats. Does he fancy himself a more petit Arnold Schwarzenegger, whose triumphant victory in the recall of Gov. Gray Davis made the actor a Republican hero?

Steve Hilton is no Arnold Schwarzenegger.

“You’re going to end up with Trump results if you follow Steve Hilton’s plans,” Becerra said, talking about the Republican’s idea to eliminate income taxes for middle-class Californians that also includes a tax cut for rich Californians.

Hilton countered by blaming long Democratic one-party rule for causing and not fixing the state’s economic troubles.

“All you ever say is ‘Trump, Trump, Trump. And that’s nothing but an insult to every Californian who is desperate for something to change in this state,” Hilton said.

“Trump, Trump, Trump,” the former state attorney general mumbled back.

To gays fond of “The Brady Bunch,” the exchange sounded a little like the infamous whine, “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!”

But Hilton had a point when noting that Democrats have been “in charge” as the film and TV industry has crumbled with production and jobs moving to other states and countries.

Becerra said he would “fight for Hollywood,” which he awkwardly followed up with dressed-up words for “Hollywood.” It wasn’t enough; it wasn’t cute, and it didn’t work. Losing Hollywood is a big fucking deal.

Becerra might also want to talk to Attorney General Rob Bonta, Superintendent Tony Thurmond, and watch the documentary “Mom’s Club” to understand what’s happening with California schools. It’s taken many, many years, but the religious-right culture wars are winning in the county school board system.

In fact, Sonja Shaw, a Moms for Liberty-endorsed candidate on the conservative Chino Valley Unified School Board, is using the fake “parental rights” messaging to top the polls for California State Superintendent of Public Instruction against San Diego Unified School Board President Richard Barrera.

But there is also good news on the culture war front. According to journalist Erin Reed of the popular Erin in the Morning Substack, a new poll from The 19th and YouGov “finds that more Americans oppose bans on transgender youth care than support them, with the gap narrowing even among Republicans, and that the public now says Republicans talk about transgender issues too much just as often as it says Democrats do, a notable finding given that previous polling had the public faulting Democrats more.”

“Gender-affirming care for transgender minors includes any kind of care designed to support and affirm their gender identity, including therapy, consultations with doctors, hormones or puberty blockers, other medication, and, rarely, surgery. Do you favor or oppose lawmakers banning or restricting gender-affirming care for transgender minors?” the question asks.

“In response, 45% say they oppose lawmakers banning gender-affirming care for trans youth, while only 38% say they support such bans; 17% are not sure. The finding is notable as election-year advertising ramps up around healthcare for transgender youth, and it comes in the wake of severe attacks on that care by the Trump administration,” the poll reports.

Reed adds: “The people running the ads seem to know” about the turn in support. “In a memo to Republican candidates on messaging for the 2026 elections, the American Principles Project, one of the chief architects of anti-trans advertising, states that pressing such attacks ‘may not be sufficient’ for Republicans to win the midterms. That reading is consistent with the generic ballot, where Democrats continue to surge ahead, with multiple polls released in recent weeks showing them leading by double digits.”

LGBTQ+ Californians continue to press forward. On Wed. Sept. 30, outgoing Gov. Gavin Newsom signed AB 1876, authored by Assemblymember Dawn Addis and sponsored by The TransLatin@ Coalition. The Fair Care for All Act, “strengthens California law against discrimination in health care coverage. For transgender, gender-expansive, and intersex communities, these protections matter at a time when federal safeguards remain vulnerable to change,” the press release reads.

“AB 1876 mandates that if an insurance provider covers a prescribed service for one patient population, then they would cover that same service for all patient populations who need that same care. As law, this prohibits discriminatory categorical exclusions for gender-affirming care or denial of services based on gender identity.”

If elected governor, it is likely that Becerra would proudly uphold and defend this new law. He has long supported LGBTQ+ people.

“I’ve always looked at things from the perspective of someone who remembers my dad’s stories where, simply because he was from Mexican heritage, he couldn’t walk into restaurants because of the signs that said ‘no dogs or Mexicans allowed.’ When I ran [for the California Assembly] in 1990,” then-California Attorney General Becerra told me in a 2018 interview, “I ran for office to be able to fight against discrimination.”

He’s also been on the front line when fighting Trump in the legal milieu.

“It’s chilling to watch Congress abandon its role to put a check on Donald Trump’s excesses,” Becerra told me for a Los Angeles Blade phone interview. “I have no hope for Donald Trump. And I think he’s proven himself repeatedly who he is and what he’ll do. When you have someone who’s that much of a rogue and that dangerous a player, you expect the other branches of government to stand up.”

In every respect, Trump is endangering the health, the security, the economic well-being of the people of the country,” Becerra said. “It’s been a long time since we thought we were this close to having someone press the button that could end up starting some nuclear conflict. But given how erratic Donald Trump is—you just never know what he’s going to come up with next.

“I think that’s probably as bad as it gets when you get to the point of a nuclear conflict. But the fact that we would even talk about that or believe that could be possible for irrational reasons—it makes you just wonder where are the checks and balances that would make sure that one irrational person could not topple the longest living democracy in history.”

Checkout the CalMatters 2026 Midterms Voter Guide. And VOTE!

This is a cross-post from Karen’s LGBTQ+ Freedom Fighters Substack.

One of the biggest problems for Donald Trump, the petulant transactional president, is that the best of the American free press won’t go along with his constant demands for unearned praise. So on Friday, Trump announced on Truth Social that CNN, MS NOW, and Politico were all banned from the White House, “effective immediately,” because of “fake news” and “dishonest reporting.”

When asked during an afternoon press conference in the Oval Office why he was imposing the ban, Trump – the New Yorker who used to court the city’s notorious tabloids– said: “It’s sick. I mean, there’s something wrong with a country that can allow people to write purposely negative stories. Now, if they want to write them, that’s fine. But I don’t have to let them into my — into the people’s house.”

On Saturday morning, reporters from those media outlets showing up for duty were denied access to the White House campus and were stripped of their press passes. CNN, MS NOW, and Politico all issued statements of protest about Trump’s clear violation of the First Amendment, vowed solidarity, and pledged continued coverage despite being denied access – just as Sec. of Defense Pete Hegseth receives blistering coverage from reporters outside the Pentagon over incompetence in waging the war in Iran and plans to integrate AI into military systems.

For all the many, many scary reasons this incident is a very big deal, one that has received less focus is that apparently no one knows why Trump has critically upped the ante in his ongoing poker game with the press now. Is he just issuing orders without any advice, consent, or guardrails?

“Some White House staffers, including members of the press shop, were caught off guard by the announcement. A source familiar with the matter said those staffers were left scrambling to learn more details,” CNN reported.

Lack of a clear reason also bothered Politico Playbook, which “called sources in and around the administration to find out why — after months of low approval ratings for the president and his signature issues — now?”

They learned that “many senior staff were surprised by the directive, which happened while Chief of Staff Susie Wiles was out of town, and weren’t aware it was coming until they saw the post, according to three people close to the White House with knowledge of conversations in the West Wing.”

Then on Friday, “the press shop was blindsided and unsure of how to respond, with one aide simply pointing back to Trump’s Truth Social post.”

Importantly, Politico reported, “They’re taking it seriously. ‘It’s real and permanent as far as POTUS is concerned,’ the person said.” More outlets – such as the New York Times and the Washington Post – to follow.

The BBC also speculated about the reasons for the ban now.

“The president’s frustration at the media, however, came after a week of setbacks in which major institutions handed him a series of losses across his agenda,” the British Broadcasting Corporation reported.

“First, the Supreme Court blocked his plan to restrict mail-in voting ahead of the midterms. This prompted Trump to lash out at the court’s justices, including those he had appointed. ‘These are not the people I interviewed to serve on the United States Supreme Court,’ he said.”

The BBC also noted that, in addition to record-low approval ratings for his second term, the Federal Reserve just rejected his pressure and raised interest rates. And a judge ordered his administration “to give 30 days’ notice before making any changes to the Kennedy Center arts venue in Washington DC after the president warned it could be ‘ripped down.’”

Along with most other media outlets, the BBC also noted that “The First Amendment to the US Constitution forbids Congress from ‘abridging’ the freedom of the press. It is language that courts have long interpreted as preventing the government from discriminating against the media based on the content of their coverage.”

Facing political headwinds going into the midterms, might Trump’s restriction of access to “friendly” press have the trickle-down impact of delivering his message to people who consumer their news from local and smaller media outlets?

But in a report on the White House Correspondents Association dinner, I included a section that points to a more sinister reason – journalists are the “enemy of the people” so trust no one else but Trump.

“Whether it’s reporting on credible truth-tellers calling out a world leader incompetently prosecuting a mindless war or a specialty journalist clearing up snarky disinformation that leads to harassment of minority individuals, press freedom – upheld by the First Amendment – is as precious as water and clean air to the survival of a democratic body.

But what happens when the fog of war is intentionally generated by the government ethical journalists are tasked to cover it in their public service to the people?

As legendary CBS News journalist Marvin Kalb noted in his 2018 book Enemy of the People: Trump’s War on the Press, the New McCarthyism, and the Threat to American Democracy, it was the current President who started the war with his dangerous assertions that the news media is “fake news” and “Fake News is Truly the ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE!”

“Shortly after assuming office in January 2017, President Donald Trump accused the press of being an ‘enemy of the American people,” reads a Harvard Kennedy School Abstract for Kalb’s book.

“Twentieth-century dictators—notably, Stalin, Hitler, and Mao—had all denounced their critics, especially the press, as ‘enemies of the people.’ Their goal was to delegitimize the work of the press as ‘fake news’ and create confusion in the public mind about what’s real and what isn’t; what can be trusted and what can’t be. That, it seems, is also Trump’s goal.”

This is a cross-post from Karen’s LGBTQ+ Freedom Fighters Substack.

What I am about to say will come as a shocker to some and bring a heavy sigh to many more. There are some things money can’t buy. Integrity, gratitude, and a goddam clue, just to name a  few. In a recent livestream, hetero-identifying Canadian OnlyFans performer Jake Andrich, who has garnered a sizable gay following on the platform, was asked if he supported the LGBTQ+ community. His response? “Not in particular.” Phenomenal PR, bro.

While Andrich may be 100% comfortable with benefiting from his fanbase of gooning gays, he’s clearly less than compelled to support the very community behind his success. If a straight dude can build a highly lucrative career providing gay men with material for their spank banks, what does the relationship between a performer and the subscribers paying their bills look like? 

Now, before anyone gets their brogurt-stained briefs in a bunch, let’s be clear about one thing. No one is entitled to someone else’s sexuality, political views, or values. No one should ever feel pressured into performing some identity that they don’t identify with or be made to feel uncomfortable. That said, gratitude is not an identity.

A unique phenomenon can happen when a person spends their life receiving social rewards while never having to think too hard about the systems in place that have made these rewards possible for them. It is often that when cultural visibility, acceptance, and desirability are a given, they are often processed in the mind not as privileges but as natural order. When this occurs, attention is processed as validation which, in turn, becomes entitlement.

When the folks who supply this attention are folks of marginalized groups, the disconnect is more than significant. Said performer experiences queer desire as an economic gain. What they don’t experience is the discrimination and social consequences that accompany one’s queerness in society. To folks like Andrich, their queer audience is a considerable convenience while never being a commitment. 

For many folks, lust is undeniably efficient at overriding less savory aspects of a person. The mammalian brain’s reward system has a way of filing pleasurable things as important things. Arousal can quite often narrow one’s attention while making them more concerned with obtaining the reward than contemplating where or who it is coming from. Add a layer of the good ol’ parasocial attachment, and now the provider of this reward is perceived not as a grad student on the other side of the country with great abs, nine inches, and a heap of student loans, but as your secret lover. All of this neuropsychology can make it super easy to compartmentalize certain info.

Cognitive dissonance makes a guest appearance when our desires and our values clash. The mind will often find ways to minimize discomfort when pleasure is involved. We may rationalize by telling ourselves that it’s not that big of a deal-breaker, or they didn’t mean what they said, or I’m subscribing for his body, not his values. 

Although I am not arguing that we should start conducting moral deep dives on everyone we see on screen, I do believe that it’s worth looking into when pleasure consistently outweighs principle. Not too long ago, I wrote a piece on Nicki Minaj’s MAGA coming out, and her Barbz were swift to come to her defense. This made it crystal clear how easily a fanbase can allow its admiration for a coked-up pop diva to eclipse her recent getting on her knees for an administration directly attacking the rights of LGBTQ+ Barbz and non-Barbz alike. Too often, fantasy feels so much better than principle.

Let’s be real about the thirst-fueled economics at play here. The LGBTQ+ community has always had to seek out representation where they can find it. Long before the Pedro Pascals and Janelle Monaes, a random shirtless model could easily fuel an entire erotic ecosystem for a not-so-out male appreciator of men. Fast forward, and what were once xxx mags hidden in that box at the back of the closet are now fanpage subscriptions. Thank you, internet. Progress.

And of course, there’s nothing wrong with patronizing the page of some random former varsity bro from Idaho who realized he can pay rent and then some by selling wank videos and foot pics. On the flip side, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with selling wank vids and foot pics. Make that coin. But when one’s business model relies on a particular marginalized community’s consumption while dismissing said community with a “not so particular” approach in support,  it is not going to fly with pretty much anyone with self-respect.

There are plenty of hetero-identifying men who get it right. Our furry-chested Daniel Radcliffe, who fuels many gay folks’ fantasies of wizard-on-wizard action, has always shown love and support for the LGBTQ+ community, particularly the T (F U, JK R). Fellow furry-chested Mark Ruffalo has also consistently lent his voice to the rights of the LGBTQ+ community and many others. Radcliffe, Ruffalo, and so many more men like these two are a testament to the fact that one doesn’t have to identify as queer to show respect and support for their queer fanbase. And, let’s be honest, nothing’s hotter than giving a sh*t.

You don’t have to be a part of a community in order to see its value. I repeat: YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE A PART OF A COMMUNITY IN ORDER TO SEE ITS VALUE. Straight guys, you don’t need to go full-on queer activist and advocate. A little solidarity, however, goes a long way. Gratitude, and the lack of it, do not go unseen. 

So Andrich doesn’t particularly support the gays. That’s cool. In turn, the gays can decide whether or not they’d like to keep supporting him financially. Let that bit of capitalism rest on your palate for a moment and tell me how it tastes. 

Honestly, take it or leave it. I personally think so many things are not worth our time or our energy. Full disclosure, I didn’t know who this guy was before receiving this assignment, and I’m sure I will soon forget him after submitting it. Integrity is sexy, in my humble opinion.

Sitting on Governor Newsom’s desk is AB 2222, the Community Newsroom Employment and Workforce Sustainability Act (Community NEWS Act). The bill seeks to put California at the forefront of national efforts to keep local newsrooms intact.

The Governor has until September 30 to sign the legislation or veto it.

Authored by Assemblymember Chris Ward and co-authored by Assemblymember Buffy Wicks, AB 2222 would provide refundable tax credits to local newsrooms for each journalist they employ. Those credits would help ensure baseline workforce stability especially critical for smaller news outlets facing financial headwinds.

For California, with the nation’s largest immigrant population and highest concentration of Limited English Proficient (LEP) households, the bill would help sustain ethnic media outlets that serve as an essential bridge, providing crucial services ranging from translations of emergency evacuation orders to helping dispel dangerous mis- and dis-information or covering local school board meetings.

Under the bill, community-rooted newsrooms would receive credits of $20,000 for the first five full-time editorial positions (at least 30 hours per week, with annualized compensation of $35,000 or more).

Each additional full-time journalist would receive a credit of $15,000, plus an additional $15,000 incentive for each newly created reporting position, while each part-time journalist would receive $7,500.

Eligibility extends broadly to print, broadcast, digital, nonprofit, and independent family-owned news outlets.

An unprecedented coalition

The bill garnered overwhelming support in the state legislature, passing the Senate 30–10 on August 30 and the Assembly 59–15 on August 31. 

That legislative mandate is backed by an unprecedented coalition across the state and nation: 134 news organizations and press associations have jointly delivered a letter urging Governor Newsom to sign AB 2222, including 94 California-based outlets, regional publishers, and labor guilds, joined by 40 national media associations.

Fiscal Responsibility, ROI

If passed, the credits will not take effect until tax year 2027, protecting current state reserves and allowing multi-year budget planning. The bill also mandates annual Franchise Tax Board compliance reports beginning in 2029 and automatically sunsets after five years (taxable years 2027 through 2031).

Additionally, the credits are offset by federal tax limits that cap corporate deductions for executive compensation over $1 million, curbing excessive corporate write-offs.

The return on investment, meanwhile, is substantial.

Peer-reviewed research in the Journal of Financial Economics found that when a local newspaper closes, municipal bond borrowing costs rise by 5 to 11 basis points—adding an estimated $650,000 in excess interest on a typical bond issue for local schools, water systems, and infrastructure.

But the bill’s value goes well beyond basis points and bond ratings.

When community and ethnic media survive, frontline community organizations and state agencies maintain the trusted communications pipeline required to deliver essentials like public health directives, farmworker protections, and disaster relief.

An information lifeline

During the 2017 Tubbs Fire, official English-language alerts left critical gaps that put non-English speakers in immediate danger.

KBBF 89.1 FM, the nation’s first bilingual public radio station, stepped in with broadcasting around the clock in Spanish, debunking false rumors that federal immigration agents were stationed at evacuation shelters or that an undocumented resident had caused the fire.

Two years later, the 2019 Kincade Fire tested that same lifeline again. The station expanded its Indigenous language broadcasts to include Mixteco and Triqui, common among regional farmworkers.

In both instances, KBBF relied on volunteers as it lacked the revenue to sustain full-time reporting staff.

Further south along the San Diego border, Indian Voices spent years reporting on and partnering with tribal leaders to raise public awareness around the toxic Tijuana River sewage crisis, which has long impacted coastal neighborhoods and Kumeyaay ancestral lands.

In Monterey Park, following the 2023 Lunar New Year mass shooting that took 11 lives, Chinese- and Vietnamese-language journalists worked through the night to pierce an information vacuum.

With elderly Cantonese- and Mandarin-speaking residents receiving no official in-language updates in the first critical hours, local reporters translated police briefings on the fly, dispelled viral rumors, and connected grieving families with victim assistance and mental health care they otherwise would never have found.

Trusted messengers

The COVID-19 pandemic exposed a different kind of information gap.

In an October 2020 statewide poll, only 29% of Black Californians said they would definitely or probably get a COVID-19 vaccine once available — far below the 70% of Asian Americans, 62% of white residents, and 54% of Latinos who said the same.

This gap was rooted in generations of justified distrust from medical racism, including the Tuskegee experiments that researchers say still shape vaccine hesitancy today.

Generic public health messaging could not close that gap on its own. Independent Black media addressed the history behind the hesitancy instead of dismissing it, and connected residents to vaccination resources through messengers their own communities actually trusted.

Governor Newsom has visited these places. He has consoled grieving families, met local community leaders, and spoken with Brandon Tsay, the 26-year-old hero who disarmed the Monterey Park gunman.

The governor saw firsthand that local community journalists are often the only trusted messengers capable of connecting vulnerable populations to life-saving state resources.

A historic opportunity

Recognizing that local journalism is essential civic infrastructure, Newsom has since 2024 demonstrated national leadership by launching the public-private California Civic Media Program and supporting the Propel Initiative. (ACoM is a Propel partner.)

Both programs help secure vital investments to sustain the UC Berkeley California Local News Fellowship and build newsroom capacity for organizations including our own, as well as the Maynard Institute, California Black Media, and the Latino Media Collaborative.

Yet these short-term grant dollars cannot permanently sustain a newsroom’s daily payroll. Without baseline workforce stability, community newsrooms are unable to retain the fellows and reporters the state has helped train.

AB 2222 helps close this gap.

We respectfully urge Governor Newsom to stand with the legislative majority, the 134 media organizations, and the working reporters and sign AB 2222 before September 30.

By Julian Do

Julian Do is co-director at ACoM, where he focuses on media industry advocacy, local news capacity building, sustainability opportunities, and special campaigns including inter-ethnic relations, COVID-19 pandemic misinformation, and journalism awards events.

Every year since Sept. 11, 2001, I’ve tried to get up early to catch the reading of the names of those lost to the terror attacks at the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. I didn’t lose anyone – though a friend is suffering from serious respiratory issues 25 years after helping people on the pile. Her suffering has been compounded by the unconscionable difficulty of getting access to the federal 9/11 survivors’ fund.

This is personal. I feel a sense of moral obligation as a human, as an American, and, importantly, as an LGBTQ+ person whose core existence can be so easily erased by sheer lazy societal habit.

It happened again.

Dan Brandhorst, 42, a lawyer and partner at PricewaterhouseCoopers, and Ronald Gamboa, 33, who managed three Gap stores in Santa Monica, had been together for 14 years. They co-founded the Pop Luck Club in West Hollywood to help prospective gay dads become parents and experience the joy they felt with their adopted son David. I met the family briefly when they stopped as part of the Pop Luck contingent during the annual Christopher Street West Pride Parade.

David was three years old when their United Airlines Flight 175 crashed into the South Tower of the World Trade Center.

They were returning home after a visit with family in Cape Cod. At 8:15 A.M. (Eastern) their plane took off from Logan Airport in Boston, headed to Los Angeles with 76,000 pounds of fuel. Dan, Ron, and David are three of the 51 passengers, 9 crew members, and 5 hijackers on board.

They were probably unaware of the first attack at 8:46 A.M. at 1 World Trade Center. Observers initially thought a small plane accidentally hit the North Tower until massive fire spilled out of the gash between floors 93 and 99. Five hijackers, 76 passengers, and 11 crew members on American Airlines Flight 11 were killed instantly, as were hundreds inside the building, trapped above the 91st floor as firefighters and police mobilized to evacuate and rescue who they could save.

At about 8:55 A.M., a Port Authority fire safety employee used the South Tower’s public address system to say the tower was secure.

“Your attention, please, ladies and gentlemen. Building Two is secure. There is no need to evacuate Building Two. If you are in the midst of evacuation, you may use the reentry doors and the elevators to return to your office. Repeat, Building Two is secure,” the Port Authority employee said, according to 911 Memorial timeline.

Four minutes later, at 8:59 A.M., an emergency order to evacuate both towers was issued.

Meanwhile, at 8:52 a.m., a flight attendant aboard United Airlines Flight 175 (likely Robert John Fangman) reported a hijacking in progress to a United Airlines operator in San Francisco, California.

At 9:03 A.M., according to the 911 Memorial Timeline, five hijackers crashed United Flight 175 into floors 77 through 85 of the South Tower, killing the 51 passengers and crew members onboard the aircraft and an unknown number of people inside the building. Two of the three emergency stairwells are blocked, and many are trapped in elevator cars.

For more than 10 minutes, everyone aboard United Flight 175 knew they could die. Passengers Garnet Ace Bailey, Peter Burton Hanson, and Brian David Sweeney got to call their families.

Imagine what that must have been like for Dan, Ron, and David. Did passengers scream in terror after the hijackers announced themselves? Had they found out about the crash in the North Tower and feared the same fate as the plane turned? Could they see the fire?

I imagine Dan Brandhorst and Ronald Gamboa – as terrified as they might have been – trying their best to comfort their terrified 3-year-old son. I imagine tall Dan on the aisle, Ron at the window, reaching over David in the middle, crying, saying, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

The memorial this morning included the reading of the names of families who I imagine huddled and cried and loved together at the end.

But even though the 9/11 Memorial & Museum reports that David Reed Gamboa Brandhorst “was one of the youngest victims of the 2001 terror attacks” and identifies Dan and Ron as David’s “fathers” – they didn’t read their three names together as a family.

At 6:07 A.M. (Pacific), the names of Daniel Brandhorst and David Brandhorst were read off a prepared list. Ronald Gamboa’s name was read at 7:05 A.M. (Pacific). This may be 9/11 wishful thinking, but I thought I heard “David Reed Gamboa” called before Ronald Gamboa.

While the precious reading of names did not identify them as a family, they are grouped together on the 9/11 Memorial at Ground Zero, with a moving tribute on the 9/11 Memorial website honoring David. “Today would have been his 18th birthday,” they report.

“Ten years later and it’s still difficult to comprehend,” Rich Valenza, co-President of the Pop Luck Club, told me for a Sept. 13, 2011 story in the now-defunct Frontiers Magazine (that Pop Luck Club co-President posted on their website). “Things were different ten years ago and very different for prospective gay fathers.”

Gamboa and Brandhorst were mentors. “Creating our families is revolutionary,” Valenza said. “What each of us does seems everyday, but the fact is it remains difficult for us.”

Dr. Karen Rogers of Project Heal from Children’s Hospital Los Angeles was also at that 2011 memorial to help explain to the kids “what happened that day.”

“The men who hijacked those planes were bullies” who were trying to make new rules based on their beliefs about how people should behave, she said. But in this country, “we believe everybody has a right to believe differently. It takes courage to stand up and say what you believe in,” praising the honesty and courage of gay dads.

“You are standing up to those bullies by being yourselves and fighting for your country and your families,” Rogers said. “So long as there are families like yours, our country will be free.”

The Pop Luck Club was renamed Raise A Child, growing into a national organization helping LGBT people foster and adopt children.

Amid the heroes, victims, and survivors of 9/11 are also the invisible ones suddenly deprived of love, mentorship, and the kind of “revolutionary” thinking who were making America a better, more inclusive country.

Remembering them is also a revolutionary act of conscience and, for me, a moving exercise in morality.

This is a cross-post from Karen’s LGBTQ+ Freedom Fighters Substack.

I’m no stranger to and am an advocate for a little group release every now and again. That said, I of course am all for San Diego repealing its antiquated bathhouse ordinance. Despite the likely anti-queer motivations of the time, the ordinance also came during a time when, unfortunately, the casual connections that many folks take for granted today came at a potentially deadly cost. This repeal is a small yet significant testament to the early and darkest ties of the HIV/AIDS crisis. 

This ordinance dates back to 1988 and subjected bathhouses to regulations rooted in their stated concern that bathhouses facilitated sex practices that were a legitimate risk to the plague of HIV/AIDS transmission at the time. Now, almost 40 years later, the City Council of San Diego unanimously decided to repeal it – great move for queer tourism, and can’t wait to see how these spaces flourish as a result. If Black’s Beach wasn’t enough of a reason to go to San Diego…

Bathhouses have, historically, been a place that, dare I say therapeutic balance of community and anonymity. At different points in history and in cultures, they have served as a home base of refuge and solidarity as well. When identifying as gay, queer, trans, or any other letter of our god blessed rainbow could cost your reputation, your job, your family, or even your life, these and other queer spaces encompassed the duality of places for both recreation just as much as they were for resistance. 

Our dearly queer elders quite literally fought to exist openly so that we pole smokers and clam connoisseurs today can eat at our hearts’ content. They were the pioneers who threw bricks and were arrested at Stonewall in order for us to perform fellatio in those very bathrooms today with next to zero concern of, well, anything. 

The HIV/AIDS crisis was just yesterday for so many of our community. In the US alone, more than 100,000 died from AIDS by 1990. To spare the details ( that I implore every last one of you to look up the next time you’re tempted to doom scroll), eventually the advocacy and outrage paid off (TAKE NOTE!). The implementation of proper medical intervention coupled with sex education in the virus paid tf off. 

Fast forward to today, treatment can suppress HIV to the point that it is not sexually transmittable. In 2024, over 68% of folks age thirteen and older living with HIV had reached viral suppression. If this isn’t progress, I don’t know what is. 

At the same time, progress has a way of making folks forget about what it took to get us here. Before receiving this assignment from my publisher, I had already been made aware of the San Diego repeal. A friend’s husband had mentioned it with gusto in the same conversation in which he was deflecting a comment about refugees worldwide. I could not help but find myself taken aback by the juxtaposition between his enthusiasm for the right to simultaneously steam and blow with his dismissal of crises abroad. These are the politics that get you to raise your voice? 

I had a similar thought the night the Knicks won the World Series or Super Bowl or whichever they do. A friend and I had made the mistake of going to catch a flick that evening – thank you, AMC A-List, thank you, Nicole Kidman. We found ourselves at a theatre around the corner from Madison Square Garden, and what a mistake that was. I won’t go into detail on the chaos we were witness to, as I assume you have Instagram.

At the time, I couldn’t help but think: where was this energy during Black Lives Matter?  Where is even a fraction of this uproar when very real people are being displaced, persecuted, starved, and killed? I love New York City, but I love basic human rights even more. 

Many of us become passionate about injustice once it is at our stoop, then suddenly become preoccupied once it is absent from our immediate line of vision. When it affects our healthcare, our relationships, and our right to raw-dog in a sauna, suddenly we are activists. But when it’s happening to someone whose life looks a little different from our own or who happens to be somewhere else on the planet… blind eye turned. Indifference. Active ignorance.

There are queer folks around the world at this very moment whose safety and lives would be at risk if they were to live their true identities openly and authentically. There are so many members of our LGBTQ+ community whose families, communities, governments, and religions would persecute them for doing exactly what many of us consider to be a regular Thursday night. And yet so many of us exist in extraordinary comfort, basking in the rights that queer folks fifty years ago fought, protested, and sometimes died for, while remaining almost entirely disengaged from those who are still waiting for their own liberation. This should upset us. 

I was reminded about a year ago on a visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art with a childhood friend. We were making our way through the fairly new and long overdue native American wing, taking in these breathtakingly vibrant patterns and aesthetics. At some point, I turned to him and commented something along the lines of, “Can you imagine how spectacular this country might look like today if these populations had never been displaced and decimated?”

His response: a casual and dismissive shrug. “Well, it’s happened thousands of times, so what are we supposed to do about it?” And with that, he walked to the next piece. I have a feeling that I won’t soon forget this response. There is something deeply and dangerously dismissive about becoming so very comfortable inside one’s own worldview that one is unable to imagine another one. Or worse, becomes upset or confrontational when challenged to.

We don’t have to agree on everything. We don’t have to care about the same things. But what I know is possible is that we are capable of developing the basic human capacity to recognize suffering outside of our immediate line of vision. 

So yes, let us celebrate San Diego on repealing the bathhouse ordinance. Let gay men gather. Let consenting adults have consensual sex in consensual places. Let queer spaces exist without the government treating our sexual identities as shameful or dangerous. And let us never forget our queer forefathers and foremothers who fought to make it all possible for us today.

But maybe, just maybe, we can redirect some of that queer political vigor to Sudan. To Palestine. To Iran. To Western Sahara. To refugees. To indigenous communities worldwide. To all of the LGBTQ+ folks living under governments where authenticity is straight up dangerous. And don’t get me wrong – I’m not suggesting that we stop caring about d*ck, I am suggesting that we care about more than just d*ck.

I challenge everyone who has made it this far to step that much further outside our likely comfortable worldview and embrace getting a little uncomfortable questioning what you think you already know. I do fear, however, that all of you who have made it this far in my article are likely not the folks that most need to hear this. I guess, for all of them, we can always put the world news on in their bathhouses. They can sweat out their toxins as well as their political apathy. And with their mouths likely full, perhaps they’ll finally open their ears.

This week, our heart goes out to the friends and family of adult performer Zachary Christian Jaghab, better known by his stage name Christian Styles. At the age of 29, there is no question that Jaghab was taken too soon. His death and the recent deaths of several other gay adult film stars raise many questions. One question that sits at the front of my mind is, for so many, why these deaths touch us so deeply. 

Jaghab’s passing is just the most recent in the gay adult industry community. Seth Peterson, born Adam Daniel Aguirre, died March 19. Dale Savage, born James Francis Gilligan, left us on June 19 due to a stroke. Just before the new year, Blake Mitchell, born Lane Vincent Rogers, lost his life in a motorcycle accident. Four deaths, all in just under eight months. For us folks who have found ourselves in, around, or adjacent to the industry, the number is hard not to take alarm at.

Unsurprisingly, there isn’t much reliable research when it comes to premature mortality rates in the gay adult industry. One of the more relevant studies touching on this topic, Gruzden and colleagues’ Pathways to Health Risk Exposure in Adult Film Performers, specifically stated that its research could not establish whether performers experience greater overall health risks than folks in other professions. 

There is research, however, that documents occupational hazards of the industry, including mental health concerns, financial insecurity, stigma, lack of access to sufficient health care, and more. There has also been research that aimed to examine HIV and STI transmission, specifically amongst gay male performers, but none of which directly points to disproportionate premature mortality rates amongst this population. 

I’d be remiss not to take the opportunity to give a shoutout to resources like Pineapple Support and Callen-Lorde’s COIN Clinic as well as practices like Inclusive Insight Psychotherapy and Overleaf  Therapy, all of which provide members of the sex working community with accessible mental health services and more. It is vital to provide care before crises occur, not just after they do. Anyway, I digress… 

Although this distinction between these lanes of research is undoubtedly significant, it does not lighten the feeling that many of us have of seeing this as a pattern. This said, the psychology of why these deaths stand out to so many of us is arguably much more relevant than the data (and lack thereof) itself.

Pornography has the power to create and foster a unique parasocial form of intimacy. A consumer of the craft may develop an appreciation for a particular performer and take in the work consistently over time. They become strongly familiar with the way they look, speak, move, and f*ck. They may have first taken an appreciation at pivotal or transitional moments in their lives like adolescence, coming out, a breakup, or times of loss or loneliness. This, in the nature of any parasocial relationship, is a one-way street. They may feel closely connected to said performer, that they know them even. 

There is a paradoxical nature to this. To hold the feeling of knowing someone so personally and intimately, perhaps more than anyone in one’s actual life, while not knowing them at all.  And this can hold true for any appreciation for someone in the public eye, yet it hits a bit differently for adult film performers. Zendaya or Tom Holland may portray the archetype of a lover onscreen, but an adult performer delivers on the carnal dynamic constructed around the remote experience of sexual intimacy.

Sexual stimulation boosts brain activity that relates to pain, our emotional state, and our neurological reward system. Many researchers find this stimulation comparable to the high one can achieve through drugs or alcohol. When one can associate a specific person or performer to such a state of ecstasy while ever so temporarily numbing themselves of the existential woes and realities of life, a one-sided connection forms. 

When a celeb passes (rest in Power, Dolly Parton and Tim Curry), the grief that their fans feel is no less real despite them never having met. Research that looked into parasocial grief has shown us that such an emotional response is substantial, and that the perception of closeness outweighs whether the relationship was real or not. 

Porn adds another dimension to this concept. Although the intimacy is an illusion, the body of the person creating it is very real. When an adult performer passes, the fantasy one may hold clashes with one’s own perception of mortality. The actual body that once was their representation of vitality and virility is now a testament to our unavoidable impermanence.

Maybe this is why the passing of our favorite performers hits a little different. What once represented desire, youth, health, and pleasure now reminds us of our finite nature. And this is where mortality salience comes in. Reminders of death most often shake or disturb our perceived sense of safety and prompt us to involuntarily confront something that most of us prefer not to – the fact that so much will happen after we die; we just won’t be there to see it.

Another psychological phenomenon to consider is the availability heuristic. When a memory – in this case, the memory of a loss – is emotionally clear and vibrant, our minds have the tendency to overestimate the frequency at which they occur. In this instance, four performers have died over the course of eight months. With each additional death, those that came before refresh in our minds as though they were just last week, and a narrative forms. This does not diminish the grief that each brings. It is simply testament to the fact that our minds are quite keen to identify patterns, particularly when it comes to emotionally salient occurrences.

There is a world of difference between an observation and a claim. To voice one’s notice of several deaths of gay porn stars within a year would be the former. Making the jump to stating that gay porn stars have a disproportionately higher mortality rate without being able to cite research or evidence to back it up would be a claim. Maybe one day, we will have research and the resulting data to shed more clarity on the topic so as to better serve this particular population. Time will tell.

I can’t help but think about James Dean and Marilyn Monroe as I write this piece. Dean passed away at the age of 24. Monroe at 36.  Both were essentially frozen at their respective ages for the rest of time. The world never got to see where their careers could have taken them and never had the privilege of watching them grow old. Their cultural identities are forever attached to the very young celebrities that they were at the times of their far too premature passings. 

Dolly Parton – who even at the age of 80 was also tragically taken too soon – is testament to almost the opposite. Her adoring public had the opportunity to see her and her career grow, evolve, and flourish over the decades. Over her time in the public light, her ongoing existence gifted the world with the opportunity to integrate aging into our concept of her and, in turn, ourselves.

One thing that Dean, Dolly, and all of our queerly and dearly departed is that their work lives on even when they cease to. For decades to come, we can put on a Dolly vinyl, stream Rebel Without a Cause, and, well, so on. 

Everybody we see on screen is mortal, as is each and every one of us. And maybe this is the core reason why the loss of a person that we never actually knew can sometimes feel like the loss of somebody that we did. Although they may have never known you, they still impacted you and your life, sometimes in a more significant way than those you see every day. 

Rest in Power, Zachary Christian Jaghab.

Rest in Power, Adam Daniel Aguirre.

Rest in Power, James Francis Gilligan.

Rest in Power,  Lane Vincent Rogers.

Rest in Power, Timothy James Curry.

Rest in Power, Dolly Rebecca Parton.

Sometimes I wonder whether home is a place or a feeling.

I have lived in places where I never imagined I would stay. I have crossed borders I never expected to cross and spent years in refugee communities where people wake up each morning wondering what the future will bring. I have known Kakuma Refugee Camp in Kenya, spent time in Zambia and South Africa, and now live in Gorom Refugee Settlement in South Sudan.

So, when I think about migration, I don’t think first about passports, borders, statistics, or immigration offices.

I think about people.

I think about the mother who leaves everything behind because she wants her children to survive. I think about the young person crossing a border with little more than a phone, a few clothes, and memories of a life that may no longer exist. I think about the refugee who has spent years waiting for a durable solution and still doesn’t know where they will eventually call home.

Migration is often described simply as movement from one place to another. But sometimes it is much more than that.

It can mean leaving behind a version of yourself.

Africa has always been moving

Africa’s migration story did not begin with modern refugee camps or today’s international borders.

People have moved across this continent for generations. They have followed trade routes, searched for pasture and water, moved for marriage, education and employment, escaped conflict, and built new communities elsewhere.

Migration has always been part of African life.

Today, people move for many different reasons. Some flee war and political instability. Others escape persecution or discrimination. Some leave because they cannot find work or see a future for themselves. Others migrate to study, find employment, start businesses, join family members or simply seek new opportunities. There is an important distinction here.

Not every African migrant is a refugee.

A refugee is someone forced to leave because returning home is unsafe. An asylum seeker is someone seeking protection and waiting for a decision on their claim. Exile can mean living away from one’s homeland, sometimes unwillingly. The diaspora is broader still: it includes people of African origin living outside their country or continent, whether they left by choice or were forced to leave.

These words matter because behind each one is a human story.

When leaving is not a choice

I know what it means when leaving is no longer a choice.

Forced displacement takes something from you that is difficult to explain. You may still have your memories, your language and perhaps a few possessions, but the ordinary things that once made life predictable can disappear.

You begin again.

Sometimes you begin again in another country. Sometimes you begin again in a refugee camp.

My experiences in Kakuma taught me that displacement does not necessarily end when you cross a border and reach somewhere safer. The uncertainty can continue for years.

Now, in Gorom Refugee Settlement, I see that uncertainty in the lives of people around me. Mothers worry about food and the health of their children. Young people wonder whether they will return to education. Others wait for resettlement or another safe pathway while trying to build a life with very limited resources. There is a strange feeling in waiting.

You are physically present somewhere, but mentally you may still be traveling towards a future you cannot see.

What happens to identity?

One of the hardest questions migration raises is: Who am I when I am no longer where I came from?

A person can cross a border in a few hours. Identity doesn’t move that quickly.

You carry your accent.

You carry your food.

You carry your mother’s stories.

You carry songs you heard as a child.

You carry the names of people who may never know where you ended up.

You carry memories.

And sometimes you carry pain.

I have met people who have lived in several countries and can no longer give a simple answer when asked where they are from. They may have been born in one country, grown up in another, lived in a refugee settlement somewhere else and now dream of resettling in a fourth.

Does that make them less African?

I don’t think so.

Perhaps it makes their identity larger.

Carrying Africa across borders

The African diaspora is sometimes discussed as though it were simply a population scattered around the world. I see it differently.

People carry pieces of home wherever they go.

An African family living in Australia, Canada, Britain, the United States, or elsewhere may still cook the food they grew up eating. They may speak their mother tongue at home, send money to relatives, listen to African music, support community projects and remain closely connected to events thousands of miles away. Migration doesn’t necessarily erase belonging.

Sometimes it creates several belongings at once.

The diaspora also contributes enormously to communities back home. Remittances help families pay school fees, buy food, build houses, access healthcare and start businesses. Migrants also carry knowledge, professional experience, ideas and connections that can benefit communities across borders.

A person may leave Africa physically and still spend much of their life contributing to Africa.

That matters.

The price of being a migrant

But migration has another side.

Not every new country means a new beginning.

For some migrants, the journey leads to racism, xenophobia, exploitation, or discrimination. People can be judged because of their nationality, accent, skin color, immigration status or refugee identity.

Others discover that qualifications earned at home are not recognized. A professional becomes a cleaner. A teacher struggles to find work. A skilled worker is told to start again.

There is nothing wrong with honest work. The problem begins when someone’s dignity is reduced because they are a migrant.

For refugees, bureaucracy can become another form of suffering. A person can become a case number, waiting months or years for interviews, decisions, relocation opportunities, or family reunification.

But life doesn’t stop while the paperwork continues.

Children grow older, parents become sick, people lose loved ones, birthdays come and go and still the waiting continues.

I sometimes wonder whether the people making decisions about migration fully understand how heavy that waiting can become for someone sitting on the other side of the process.

Women, children, and LGBTQ+ refugees

Migration does not affect everyone in the same way.

Women often carry enormous responsibilities after displacement. They may become the main providers for their children while dealing with their own trauma and uncertainty.

Children experience displacement differently. They may not fully understand why they had to leave home, but they understand the absence of familiar faces, schools and routines.

Young people face another difficult question: how do you plan a future when you don’t know which country you will be living in?

For LGBTQ+ refugees, the journey can be even more complicated. Some leave because the place where they were born no longer feels safe for them. They may have experienced rejection, threats, violence or discrimination before they ever reached a refugee settlement.

And yet, even in such circumstances, people create community.

In Gorom, LGBTQ+ refugees and asylum seekers come from different African countries and backgrounds. We don’t always agree on everything. But we understand something important: when the world has already made you feel unwanted, having people around you who understand your experience can mean everything.

Community can become another form of home.

Should borders decide our worth?

I understand why countries have borders. Countries have laws and responsibilities.

But I sometimes ask myself a simpler question: Should crossing a border change the value of a human life?

A child doesn’t become less deserving of food because they were born on the other side of a political boundary.

A mother doesn’t become less worthy of safety because she crossed without the right document.

A refugee doesn’t stop being a human being while waiting for an immigration decision.

From a Humanist perspective, this seems straightforward to me. Human dignity should not depend on nationality.

We can have immigration systems and still treat migrants with compassion.

We can protect borders without forgetting that the people standing behind those borders are human beings.

We can disagree about migration policy without dehumanizing migrants.

That balance isn’t easy. But perhaps that is exactly why we need more humanity in conversations about migration.

What does home mean now?

I have asked myself this question many times: Where is home?

Is it where I was born?

Where I first felt safe?

Where my memories live?

Or perhaps home isn’t always a geographical location.

Maybe home can be the people who stand beside you.

Maybe it is the language you speak when you are emotional.

Maybe it is the smell of food that takes you back to childhood.

Maybe, after so much has been taken away, home becomes something you slowly rebuild.

My birthday falls on Sept. 12. Birthdays usually invite us to think about another year of life. But for someone who has experienced displacement, another birthday can mean something deeper.

It means I made it through another year.

I am still here.

And I think about the many refugees who don’t know whether they will be safe long enough to celebrate their next birthday. I think about children growing up in camps who deserve to celebrate their birthdays in a home they can call their own.

That thought stays with me.

We are more than where we come from

Migration has taught me that people cannot be reduced to the countries printed on their passports.

We are our memories, our relationships, our struggles, our dreams, and our choices.

Africa’s diaspora is not simply a story of people leaving Africa. It is also a story of people carrying Africa with them.

And the refugee experience is not simply a story of loss. It is also a story of survival.

I don’t know where my own journey will eventually take me. Perhaps that is one of the things migration teaches us: we can make plans, but life sometimes writes a different story.

What I do know is that every person deserves the chance to live without fear, to love without persecution, to work with dignity, to raise children safely and to imagine a future.

Borders may separate countries.

They should never separate us from our humanity.

If migration has taught me anything, it is that home is not always the place we left behind. Sometimes home is the safe place we are still searching for.

And sometimes, while searching, we become one another’s home.

It’s interesting how the mainstream media, especially the conservative part of it, likes to write about transgender subculture when they should speak up about trans people.

How often do you see mentions of blue or purple hair, Marxism, specific clothing styles and ecology when you see a mention of a trans person?

It happens more often than it should. It looks like the mainstream media, even the ones that don’t demonise us, sincerely believe that being trans means sharing a whole bunch of characteristics that have nothing to do with having a gender identity different from the one that was assigned at birth.

Here are four reasons why it may create problems, and what to do about them.

1. A subculture idea

The assumption that being trans is part of a subculture creates a very specific kind of discrimination, because the mainstream audience who read those stories sincerely believes that being trans is a personal choice or a trend in the same way as being a K-pop fan, a goth, or a metalhead. It basically means that being trans is nothing more than a trend, and trends, as we all know, can change. People who believe in this idea are more likely to speak about “gender ideology” and “propaganda trends” and less likely to listen to scientists and studies around trans issues, or to different experiences of what it means to be trans.

Even if trans people made a choice to be trans, they shouldn’t be discriminated against. In a democratic, free country, no one should be punished for choosing what to do with their body. And hate for subcultures is a real thing that leads to violence. But the problem is that, despite there being a trans subculture, most trans people are statistically not part of it. But where are they in activism?

2. Misleading about goals

Let’s be honest. We are partly to blame for this stereotype. And before you stop reading, let’s just think about the topics most people discuss before the average protest or radical Pride event. Or let’s imagine trans-friendly events. They are mostly leftist, and people at these events share the exact same interests, hobbies, and political positions.

At my last protest about the new draconian Equality and Human Rights Commission guidelines in the U.K. that say trans people can only use public places according to the sex assigned to them at birth, we were speaking about anything else. For example, some speeches were about abolishing “bourgeois democracy,” speaking up for socialist revolution, and saying some other things I definitely couldn’t support.

I’m not against socialism, but I’m against the idea that all trans people are socialists. That is inherently misleading, at best, and harmful, at worst. I support universal basic income and free healthcare, but not revolution or Marxist reform. If I were a cis person who generally supported trans rights but knew too well about the Russian Revolution of 1917 and how it ended for indigenous people and queer people, if I were a bystander, I wouldn’t stop at a protest like that. I probably wouldn’t even believe that the situation is as bad as they are saying.

There is nothing bad about inviting a socialist speaker. The problem begins when all trans events become socialist events. Those protests don’t look like protests for trans rights – they look like protests for socialist revolution or just like a rebel teens gathering.

3. Self-fulfilling prophecy

At the protest I mentioned and at other similar protests, including the ones from the U.S. I saw online, there weren’t a lot of “traditionally” trans people — the ones you may have been able to see in old TV programs about trans experiences, where trans people were presented to be more gender-conforming.

Most activists are young, white, poor but not extremely poor, citizens of the country where they are living, gender-non-conforming, leftist, and non-religious. They like trans horror, drag queen shows, drawing and reading MfM romantasy. And despite the fact that I just finished writing my own trans horror novel, I wonder — where are the other trans people? With different hobbies and lifestyles?

Where are all those “traditional” trans women from old TV shows who like make-up and want to give birth to kids if only it was possible, and trans men who like to spend their time drinking beer in pubs and going to the gym with their bros? I think we need them more than we think. They may give new ideas and perspectives. And they need us. 

Why don’t we see them? Why do we see so few trans refugees who came from Middle Eastern, Asian, and African countries? May they be triggered by the world then because the U.S. had the worst dictatorship on the planet, or that the U.K. is a fascist country when they saw something worse than the British government or even MAGA? For some trans person who survived Bashar al-Assad in the Syrian government or fled Eastern Turkestan, such slogans would feel like gaslighting — and I knew because I met many refugees.

Why, finally, do so many trans activists have similar clothing styles, similar interests, and similar experiences?

Because it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. When trans activists create this kind of culture, they accidentally gatekeep all other trans people who may feel less comfortable within a subculture that has its own rules, style, and ideology, even if none of those things have anything to do with being trans.

4. Media misrepresentation

When the media — conservative and not very conservative — sees the same thing, it doesn’t matter if we are speaking about a trans man who is traditionally masculine and wants a traditional family, or if we are speaking about soft, nice gay boys who happen to promote socialist revolution like many modern stereotypical trans activists. It is equally misleading.

I hate the idea that we need to pretend to be more convenient and normal in order to be accepted by society, because society has never worked that way. But pretending to be accepted by the community is no better.

Trans people are different — and sometimes problematic — and despite the core of activist trans culture, we can have some distinctions when we speak with the media. We should never try to tell people that all trans people are similar.

Now, when trans rights are under attack, it is more important than ever to show that all trans people are just people. We are different, like everyone else. We have our rights, even if we are wrong. Even if we are ugly. Or struggle with inner transphobia. Or some of us internalise traditional roles, or; the opposite, too weird for any culture and subculture. We can make mistakes. But we are not a political party or a monolithic group. Being trans is not a lifestyle, because we have different lifestyles. 

Trans kids need to see that they can be whoever they are and still be true, real trans people. And the media should always be questioned when they try to push all trans people into the frame of a subculture.

But to do so, we need to look at our activism and at the representation we are creating.

I have a controversial confession to make: the only people I find more annoying than stringent monogamists are people who are die-hard about anti-monogamy. Call me crazy, but as a queer person I don’t think anyone who engages in polarizing politics is really “right.” It becomes more about ego-defense and tribalism than proving any points. 

Let’s be honest, both groups can be annoying. I think that it can be a bit dangerous to put all your romantic pressure on someone you just met or hooked up with. Some monogamists put way too much pressure on their romantic partnerships, figuring they’ll solve a lot of problems when they find the “right one.” How could anyone live up to the list of pre-set qualities you’ve picked for a partner? Guys can often act like teenage girls with fantasies about a Prince Charming who is hot, smart, wealthy, and wants your unhealed ass. 

On the flip side, I’ve seen people use polyamorous language to try and get the best of both worlds. I’ve seen people in open relationships who spend more time in the pursuit of one-off sexual encounters than single people. My ex often said he thought he was poly. To which I replied, “Babe, you’re hardly in this relationship.” 

There are some glaring issues with the whole poly, open-relationship movement, and it’s this: people end up resting on their laurels in a relationship that they won’t work on. They’ll seek out sex to fix their stress about sexual incompatibility, financial woes, or a lack of emotional intimacy. You end up with people who have glorified roommates, multiple emotional affairs, and a sex life the average fuckboy would kill for. 

At the end of the day, no matter what side of the argument you are in, relationships take work. The monogamists need to really deal with their issues with intimacy, sex, and jealousy. Is the reason you might not consider opening the relationship your fear of abandonment, need to control your partner, or insecurity in your relationship? 

A true polyamorous relationship requires holding space not just for all your emotions (negative and positive) but your partner(s). 

In the same way, I think hardcore liberals and conservatives miss a lot of nuance and don’t focus on real people; the same is true for people on these two sides of this debate. Polyamory, when not researched or worked on, can seem like some MLM scam. So you just get to sidestep all the issues of a relationship like fights, financial woes, and picking a restaurant in favor of just seeking out partners to fill the void?

Real polyamory requires managing multiple schedules, complex, intricate emotional dynamics, and a lot of accommodating. If you can’t even travel for someone you hook up with, how can you handle that one partner who needs you to be there emotionally during a crisis while not ignoring date night with another?  

If your partner is bad at sex so you go find other sex partners, you’re not dealing with the issue. If your partner is emotionally unavailable, seeking out friends or random situationships to fix that seems more self-serving than spreading love. It’s hurting everyone but yourself.  

No matter how you slice it, the issue is very nuanced. It’s like people who are die-hard atheists. If you haven’t processed your religious trauma, do you have a leg to stand on in challenging someone else’s beliefs? If you are not entertaining the other side, can you truly have a point that should involve other people? 

I’ve seen the pitfalls of both sides: men who use their emotional unavailability to string guys along or to have sex indiscriminately. I’ve also seen couples end after decades because of infidelity or worry about their relationship’s sex issues and not talking about it or not having the experience to navigate out of it. 

What I believe and what works for me is that I put people on a romantic or a sexual track. I think that any relationship worth its salt should be closed for at least some portion. I think we need to cultivate a certain intimacy with our partners that can only be achieved by committing to being with them. How can you know if someone is right for you if you have other people to compare them to?

I don’t argue for or against any side because I’ve learned what works for some does not work for everyone. We’re part of a complex intersectional community, and I’ve seen why some people want freedom and why some people are jealous. 

I think we need to remember a few things. We are men in a patriarchy that raises us to fear intimacy, emotional vulnerability, and connection between men. These are all needed for any relationship. I think one pitfall of polyamory and open relationships is that people hobble together the equivalent of one partner rather than truly loving someone enough to let them find someone who wants what they have to offer. 

I think a core issue is capitalism. We fear scarcity of partners, and so we want to lock it down. Or we have a false sense of abundance and think that people don’t matter, but rather than seeking out the Burger King of relationships and trying to have it our way, we have to work on it, not just for ourselves but for our partner(s). 

Bringing my ex back up as an example. He wanted to be open but refused to have a clear conversation about the rules of engagement. If we can’t have a conversation about wants, needs, and boundaries, how could we possibly have an open relationship without hurt feelings, dinged pride, and security?

It’s not surprising that some people are seeking out monogamy because gay relationships are complicated. We have all this baggage, but we need friendship, sex, romance, companionship, and people we can grow with. Some people can find that in one person and some can find it with many. 

But before you tout out your political views on relationships, maybe you should read The Ethical Slut, Polysecure: Attachment, Trauma and Consensual Nonmonogamy, and make sure you are being ethical, consensual, and honest in your nonmonogamy rather than arguing you should be able to have someone cover half the rent while you get to live like you’re single.