“Handsome Hudwit”

Decent News Friday

I wish I could still say it’s amazing that these bills even come up, while now instead, it’s amazing that they’re not brought into law. But here we are. Decent news from Montana!

Powerful Speeches From Trans Dems Flip 29 Republicans, Anti-Trans Bills Die In Montana by Erin Reed

Transgender Reps Zooey Zephyr and SJ Howell delivered powerful speeches on the Montana House floor on Thursday. Republicans defected en masse to join them in voting against anti-trans bills. Read on Substack

Something remarkable happened in Montana today. As has become routine, anti-trans bills were up for debate—the state has spent more than half of its legislative days this session pushing such bills through committees and the House floor, with Republicans largely voting in lockstep. But something changed.

A week ago, transgender Representative Zooey Zephyr delivered a powerful speech against a bill that would create a separate indecent exposure law for transgender people. Since then, momentum on the House floor slowed. Today, two of the most extreme bills targeting the transgender community came up for a vote. Transgender Representatives Zooey Zephyr and SJ Howell gave impassioned speeches—this time, they broke through. In a stunning turn, 29 Republicans defected, killing both bills. One Republican even took the floor to deliver a scathing rebuke of the bill’s sponsor.

The first bill to reach the House floor was HB 675, a measure that would ban drag performances and Pride parades in Montana. A previous drag ban had already been struck down by the courts after it was enforced against a transgender woman—who was not a drag artist—to prevent her from speaking about public history at a library. In response, the bill’s sponsor, Rep. Caleb Hinkle, introduced HB 675 to circumvent that ruling.

Rather than relying on state enforcement, this bill would grant individuals the private right to sue if a public drag performance took place, making it more difficult to challenge in court. During committee hearings, Hinkle went even further, calling being transgender “a fetish” and arguing that the law was necessary to prevent trans people from dancing in public.

And that’s when transgender Representative Zooey Zephyr took to the floor.

“Here I am again to rise on another bill targeting the LGBTQ+ community,” she said, exasperated. “At its very core, drag is art. It is very beautiful art. It has a deep history in this country, and it is important to my community. You know, if you are a woman in this body wearing a suit today, you are in some way challenging gender norms that existed long ago… There were three-article-of-clothing laws 50 years ago that said if you wore three articles of clothing that were indicative of the opposite gender, they could stop you, arrest you… it was those laws that led to the police raiding an LGBTQ+ bar that led to the Stonewall riots, one of the most important civil rights moments in my community’s history,” she began.

“When the sponsor closed on this bill, he said, this bill is needed… and I quote his words… ‘because transgenderism is a fetish based on crossdressing.’ And I am here to stand before the body and say that my life is not a fetish. My existence is not a fetish. I was proud within a month ago to have my son up in the gallery here. Many of you on the other side met him. When I go to walk him to school, that’s not a lascivious display. That is not a fetish. That is my family. This is what these bills are trying to come after… not obscene shows in front of children, we have the Miller test for that, we have laws for that. This is a way to target the trans community, and that is in my opinion, and in the speaker’s own words.”

Then something even more remarkable happened: A Republican, Representative Sherry Essman, rose to defend Rep. Zephyr and chastised the bill’s sponsor. “I’m speaking as a parent and a grandmother. And I’m very emotional because I know the representative in seat 20 is also a parent. No matter what you think of that, she is doing her best to raise a child. I did my best to raise my children as I saw fit, and I’m taking it for granted that my children are going to raise my grandchildren as they see fit,” she began.

“Everybody in here talks about how important parental rights are. I want to tell you, in addition to parental rights, parental responsibility is also important. And if you can’t trust a decent parent to decide where and when their kids should see what, then we have a bigger problem,” she turned to parental rights and spoke about how people who claim those rights should vote against the bill.

And then, she closed by chastising the bill’s sponsor for bringing the bill, “Trust the parents to do what’s right, and stop these crazy bills that are a waste of time. They’re a waste of energy. We should be working on property tax relief and not doing this sort of business on the floor of this house and having to even talk about this.”

Following the speeches, 13 Republicans, the most of any anti-trans bill this cycle, flipped and voted against the bill. See it as it happened here:

Were this all that happened, it would have been remarkable enough—such aisle-crossing has become rare in modern politics, and on transgender issues, it is almost unheard of. But Representative Zephyr is not the only transgender lawmaker in Montana. Representative SJ Howell, a powerhouse in their own right, took the floor when an even more extreme bill followed immediately afterwards—HB754, a measure that would remove transgender children from their parents. They had a powerful speech to deliver as well.

Representative Howell opened, “I stand to oppose this bill… When a state intervenes to remove a child from their family, that is one of the most serious and weighty responsibilities that the state has. That is not something to be taken lightly. Every time a child is removed from their family, it’s a tragedy. Sometimes a necessary tragedy, but a tragedy nonetheless. This bill does not come close to the seriousness with which those decisions should be contemplated.”

They pointed directly to the bill’s language: “On page 1, line 19, any child protective service specialist, peace officer, or county attorney who has reason to believe any child is in immediate danger or harm may immediately remove the child. What we are adding… a child transitioning gender with the support of a parent or guardian is considered in immediate or apparent danger or harm.”

Howell then turned to the bill’s vagueness and the dangers it posed to transgender children as well as any child who defies gender norms. “Transitioning gender is not defined in this bill… so what does that mean? Maybe it means, as the sponsor said, surgery or medical treatment. Maybe it means therapy, mental healthcare. Maybe it means a kid who gets a haircut and a new set of clothes. Maybe a name change… a legal name change, or someone who wants to try out a different name… a strict reading of this bill could include all of that.”

They urged lawmakers to consider the real consequences. “Put yourself in the shoes of a CPS worker who is confronted with a young person, 15 years old maybe, who is happy… healthy… living in a stable home with loving parents, who is supported and has their needs met? And they are supposed to remove that child from their home and put them in the care of the state? We should absolutely not be doing that.”

Then, the bill went to a vote. This time, the Montana Republican Party fully fractured—29 Republicans crossed the aisle to defeat it.

Watch it as it happened here:

Following the vote, Representative Zephyr took to social media to discuss the implications. “These kind of votes are born out of transgender representation in government,” she posted on her bluesky account. “Howell & I have built solid relationships with Republicans and those relationships change hearts, minds, and (eventually) votes. It is painful, grueling work. But it makes a difference.”

At a time when anti-trans bills are sailing through red-state legislatures, many are left wondering how they can be stopped. Some Democrats, like Gavin Newsom, have chosen appeasement—standing alongside anti-trans hate leaders like Charlie Kirk instead of standing up for transgender people. But Representatives Zooey Zephyr and SJ Howell offer a different path. As transgender lawmakers in a Republican-dominated government, they have shown that representation, relationships, and the power of speaking truth in hostile spaces can move hearts and minds. Their success is a reminder that even in the most challenging environments, refusing to back down can make a difference.

Editor’s Note: The writer of this article is happily married to Representative Zooey Zephyr. While I am mindful of disclosing personal relationships in my reporting as a transgender journalist, I also recognize the importance of covering major moments like today’s events in Montana, and so I chose to report on this story with this disclosure. My goal remains delivering critical LGBTQ+ news to my readers with the integrity and urgency it deserves.

First

First They Came For… by Public Servant

Updating German pastor Martin Niemöller’s 1946 poem for 2025 Read on Substack

My Fellow Democracy Defenders,

Martin Niemöller was a prominent Lutheran pastor in Germany. After Hitler seized power in 1933, the pastor became an outspoken critic. For defying a dictator, he spent the last eight years of Nazi rule (1937 to 1945) in prisons and concentration camps. Pastor Niemöller is best remembered for his 1946 poem, which I have updated for our current situation below.

Martin Niemöller - Wikipedia
hitler: German who refused to give Hitler the Nazi salute

First they came for the refugees, and I did not speak out—because I was not a refugee.

Then they came for the trans children, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trans child.

Then they came for the people of color, and I did not speak out—because I was not a person of color.

Then they came for the abortionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not an abortionist.

Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.

Then they came for the journalists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a journalist.

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the civil servants, and I am speaking out—my partner has lost her job, and I am fighting for mine.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

Will you speak up for all those who are oppressed by fascists? (snip)

MacKenzie Scott, Philanthropist

And no, she didn’t “earn her money in the divorce”; she built Amazon into what it is/was. She earned her money by working. It’s important to note because of opposition comments about her.

MacKenzie Scott Nice Time Update! by Rebecca Schoenkopf

Turns out that the way she gives money is a really good way. Read on Substack

Marcie Jones Mar 04, 2025

green plant in clear glass vase
There’s like no photos of MacKenzie Scott. Photo by micheile henderson on Unsplash

And now let us check in with breath-of-fresh-air MacKenzie Scott, the heart-of-gold billionaire who spun her share of her divorce from Jeff Bezos after he cheated on her into philanthropy and Yield Giving, a foundation that has so far given out almost $20 billion in unrestricted gifts for social justice, human services (like abortions and health care), education, LGBTQ+ services, playgrounds, historically Black colleges and universities, a total of 2,450 excellent causes that happen to be the ones that piss off Elon Musk and other right-wing chuds the very most!

Turns out, according to a three-year-analysis by the Center for Effective Philanthropy of 800 of the donations her foundation has made, the no-strings-attached way she gives out money is quite effective!

When Scott started handing out unrestricted gifts in 2019, the world of philanthropy got shook. The usual way to go about doling out large sums of cash with a foundation is to give restricted gifts, like for eradicating the rockin’ pneumonia, but not the boogie-woogie flu, or a scholarship fund for sensitive boys with at least a 3.0 who play the flute, or constructing the Phineas Q. Oilman Center for Fracking Studies.

Donors like to direct exactly where their money goes. And they like to have their names on stuff, like etched on a plaque, or a “thank you” in the opera program. Also naming rights are a way to encourage ongoing involvement. Don’t you think dear departed Grandpa Oilman would have wanted his heirs to make sure that his building has plenty of money in trust to keep the center’s roof repaired?

And foundations usually give out grants in response to proposals. This usually starts with announcing the grant: The Betsy VonThundersnatch Foundation For The Arts intends to award $5 million to bring drag brunches to underserved populations. Then nonprofits that work in that area respond with a proposal that assesses the need, lays out project with objectives, includes a step-by-step timetable, detailed budget estimate for renting a van, buying wigs and champagne etc., a pitch of why their organization is the most capable one to meet the need, what the benchmarks for measuring success will be, and so on.

Then after a grantee gets the money, they’re usually required to regularly report back the details of their benchmark-hitting to a board. What some might call micromanaging and others might call responsible stewardship helps foundations and charities solicit gifts, because donors want to know exactly where their money is going and be reassured that it’s not going to get blown fast. Which makes sense! But all of that takes time, and wig money. It can be many months and sometimes even years between when a grant is announced and an awardee can cash a check, and charities have to pay overhead for people to look for grants to apply to, and write the proposals.

But MacKenzie Scott’s Yield Foundation does the opposite of this! They skip the solicitation-and-proposal part entirely, quietly and secretly researching organizations’ track records. And then the foundation cuts a surprise check, with no spending-timetable or strings attached, and lets the nonprofit roll with it. It is bold! It is brave! It is trusting!

And here’s the Center for Effective Philanthropy’s report on how it’s going: The grantees are actually not blowing all of the money. Most are using it to shore up longer-term stability and plan to spend it within two to five years. Some have been able to pay debt, and have reserves and health insurance for their employees for the first time, and they are able to provide more services and expand their missions.

Like the South Texas Food Bank. They were able to give their employees free health care, and also nearly doubled the amount of food they distributed to eight counties and one tribal nation in south Texas with the $9 million Scott’s foundation gave them. Also Kaboom! They build playgrounds, and with Scott’s $14 million they have quadrupled the size of their playgrounds, and have gotten into advocacy too, pushing for elimination of the use of toxic chemicals on playground surfaces.

Eighty-five percent of nonprofit recipients said that Scott’s gifts have helped them improve or expand their programming, and 52 percent reported a greater capacity to respond to the needs of the communities they serve. The organizations that received awards from Scott had double the amount of cash reserves as comparable nonprofits, which is vital for the long-term stability of any organization that depends on the kindness of strangers in a volatile economy.

Ninety-three percent reported that Scott’s grant moderately or significantly strengthened their ability to carry out their mission, and 90 percent said the gift bolstered their financial positions. More than 60 percent said they used the grant to establish credibility with other funders, though 53 percent were concerned that other funders might withdraw their support, believing that recipients didn’t need additional funding. But the other side to that is Scott’s foundation has already done the research, so her endorsement could also encourage more donations. How that will pan out in the end for charities remains to be seen.

And, though the grants don’t require them to, 70 percent of the recipients are tracking the impact of the money, some say even better than they actually were before, because now they have better capacity to do that. Said one, “This grant has allowed us to focus more deliberatively on our metrics and impact to better equip us to answer this question/tell our story/show our impact.”

And what an impact! Samples from the survey: 33,521 loans for a total of $1.26 billion to low-income households to buy homes, start or capitalize businesses, and address their financial needs. Health care for 100,000 new patients. Legal orientation for more than 12,000 refugees, and 200 unaccompanied immigrant minors re-unified with their families, and millions of meals served in the US and other countries.

And her freewheeling gifts are having an impact on other foundations also. More than half of foundation leaders surveyed said that they now thought that their foundations should consider giving out large, multiyear, unrestricted support, too. Which is not simple, because foundations are staffed, structured and budgeted to do things the way they’ve always done them, and it’s hard to get boards to agree on lunch, much less to a complete overhaul on how they do everything, and possibly to re-write of all of their bylaws. But now they have a fine example to follow, and success to point to.

That MacKenzie! She is so humble, it is hard to find pictures of her anywhere, unless they’re from her as Bezos’ plus-one in the old days. And while her ex is out here kissing Trump’s behind, whoring out the newspaper he bought and swanning around Aspen with his affair partner, she is making a difference in a good way. And still the 5th-richest woman in the world.

It’s all lovelier than a drag brunch in June.

OPEN THREAD. (We’ll have something up later too, you know what time.)

(snip)

Another Bathroom Story

I have strong feelings about women’s restrooms, too, as we all know; so many thoughts about so many women’s bathroom issues. I’m in agreement with this essay. Stick with it, you’ll see. You might want a tissue.

A Trans Girl Approached Me in the Ladies’ Bathroom and It Bothered Me. Here’s Why. by Natalie S. Ohio

Why the girls’ bathroom is a sacred space for women and how we must seek to keep it that way. Read on Substack

Ugh, no hand soap. Again.

If there’s one thing living in Spain will teach you, it’s that hand washing isn’t priority número uno in public spaces.

Luckily, as someone who grew up here, this is no surprise to me. As Gang Starr once said, “I’m not new to this, I’m true to this.”

In other words, I carry soap sheets wherever I go.

As I was washing my hands in the shopping mall bathroom last week, the door cracked open and a head peeked around.

Big brown eyes appeared from under a blunt-cut fringe. A smattering of adolescent acne decorated soft, rounded cheeks and a set of metallic braces twinkled between glossy pink lips.

Either retro makeup is back in style or rubbing my hands together had sent me ricocheting back to the mid-80s…

We regarded each other for a moment.

“¿Puedo pasar?” May I come in?

Her delicate, childlike voice softly penetrated the silence of the empty bathroom.

“Sí, claro.” Of course.

I smiled and gestured to the vacant stalls and the rows of mirrored sinks behind me.

I wondered if she mistakenly believed from the outside that this was a single-person bathroom. Or maybe she thought I was a cleaner. It wouldn’t be the first time a Spaniard had seen my complexion and automatically assumed I was the help.

I was otherwise a little perplexed as to why she would ask.

She hesitated slightly as she stepped around the door.

“Bueno, es que… soy trans.”

Well, it’s just that… I’m trans.


What I’m about to say may sound strange to some, but here goes:

The ladies’ bathroom plays a surprisingly significant role in girlhood.

I’m not talking about the one at Grandma’s house with its peach-coloured wall tiles, nor the ones in fancy restaurants where you go to check your appearance on a date.

I’m talking about the public toilets that double as makeshift community hubs for women — grubby little social sinkholes you find in nightclubs, bars, and airports that offer a brief moment of tranquillity as the commotion fades behind the closing door.

Restrooms with precarious toilet seats, broken flushes, and “love urself babe ur perfect” scribbled in eyeliner on the inside of the stall.

1*AzUe1miYlQzfUY5iSAVd7g.jpeg
Photo by Annika Gordon on Unsplash

I’m willing to bet that anybody who has used a public ladies’ room has had at least one memorably positive encounter with someone they’ve met inside.

What’s so special about it? I hear you cry. Men have bathrooms too and nobody bats an eyelid. If anything, the less said about those, the better.

On a functional level, nothing at all.

In fact, the ladies’ very often sucks in comparison to the men’s. A victim of long queues, scarce toilet paper, and the most unflattering lighting known to man.

However, we’re not talking about serviceability. If we were, we wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.

What I’m referencing is much deeper than that. Much more visceral.

I once undid a drunken stranger’s bodysuit in a nightclub bathroom so she could relieve herself before going back out to tear up the dancefloor. If you’ve any idea what a bodysuit is and where its fastening is located, you’ll understand why that’s a tall order.

I’ve witnessed countless girls take their drinks inside and leave them unattended by the sink without any concerns over getting roofied.

There’s nearly always someone giving an empowering pep talk to a broken-hearted friend who needs a boost of confidence.

Blister plasters, boob tape, and tampons are handed out like Werther’s Originals at a Women’s Institute meeting. Pleasant conversation dapples the air. Strangers become new best friends.

Outfits are readjusted, hair is coiffed, perfume is shared, and doors with faulty locks are guarded to prevent accidental walk-ins. Those who are desperate are permitted to jump the line.

It’s where the power of sorority is comfortably displayed.

The girls’ bathroom is one of the few places where female vulnerability isn’t preyed upon.

Conversely, it’s often bolstered and allowed to exist without any need for justification.

Sure, it’s where you go when nature calls. But it also acts as a cocoon-like environment — somewhere you can retreat to when you want to feel… safe.

Nat, why are you waxing lyrical about the loo?

Well, because this recent encounter brought about a bracing realisation for me — a conventional woman with an uncomplicated identity who fits comfortably within the margins of the archetype.

I realised that the person peeking her head around the door wasn’t merely asking for permission to enter the room.

She was asking for permission to belong.

She was giving me the power to accept or reject her appeal to exist freely in a space that—for people like me—is a place of comfort, and for people like her, is commonly associated with hostility and consternation.

The alignment of my biological sex and gender identity affords me the confidence to take up space in social settings where others, with less streamlined identities, may feel reluctant.

Of course, uncertainty is a perfectly natural phenomenon in adolescence — kids are constantly trying to make sense of themselves and explore how and where they best fit in a world governed by grown-ups. And this kid, who looked to be some 14 or 15 years old, is no different.

However, this situation was unique because it didn’t focus on the implicit social hierarchy that comes with a significant age gap.

Instead, our respective positions on the spectrum of womanhood forced us to weigh up the other’s existence.

It was as though she believed that within a shared space her identity would encroach on mine; so announcing that she was trans and verbally acknowledging our differences would help me to legitimise her humanity some.

She asked me if she could come in because there may have been a chance that I wouldn’t have wanted her to.

And that is devastating to me.


“Bueno, hija, ¿qué más da? Pasa, pasa.” So what, kiddo? Come on in.

I headed over to the hand dryer.

“Ay, muchas gracias!”

She smiled sweetly and walked past me in her fishnet tights and patent Dr. Martens.


Transphobia is not an alien concept in countries that operate under organised religion or have a traditional set of social values, such as Spain.

Vox—a prominent far-right political party—has been consistently vocal about its disdain towards transgender people and its desire to prevent their access to base-level human rights. Transgender people are persecuted by conservative political parties and their followers all across the nation.

Adults berating other adults is one thing, but what happens when this toxic, nefarious behaviour falls upon the shoulders of children?

Children are sacred

Los niños son sagrados” (children are sacred) is a phrase you see and hear typically in response to the mistreatment of children in any form.

Children are revered in Hispanic culture, so why was this particular child so acutely aware of the controversy surrounding her identity? Shouldn’t the innocence we try so hard to preserve in children include transgender children too?

Shouldn’t she be able to exist as comfortably as her peers do?

Had I voiced an issue with her coming into the bathroom, there is no doubt in my mind that she would’ve turned away and left. And that’s what bothered the hell out of me. It upset me that she felt the need to even mention it.

Because who am I? I’m not important. I have no authority over public spaces or gender identity whatsoever.

I don’t care what people do in the privacy of a bathroom stall. I don’t stop to intimidate them or pass judgement.

I’m just a stranger washing her hands at the sink. But luckily for this girl, I’m a kind stranger. Someone whose cup of compassion and understanding runneth over.

The fact that she felt the need to ask stirred up feelings of pity and rage in equal measure.

It disgusts me that this harmless individual possibly has and probably will suffer at the hands of narrow-minded losers who mind other people’s business more than their own.

As if growing up isn’t already fraught with insecurity and a heightened awareness of your differences from others. Being a teenager in today’s world is like wandering into the seventh circle of hell with gasoline shorts on.

Sure, the world is a big, scary place. But the girls’ bathroom is something else entirely, and it should stay that way.

I felt a wave of protectiveness wash over me as I thought about how she must feel on a regular basis. Physically, she was long-limbed and lofty, yet she seemed so small and defenceless.

A kid.

Just figuring herself out, one day at a time.

When she came into the sink area, she told me she liked my outfit — I told her that I have my own clothing line and was wearing one of my newest designs. I offered her a soap sheet and asked her about her makeup — her parents had bought her an eyeshadow palette for her birthday recently. I’ve never been any good with eyeshadow. She doesn’t go a day without it.

So there we were.

Just two gals chopping it up in the girls’ bathroom, enjoying pleasant conversation with someone we’ll probably recall warmly once or twice before returning to the monotony of our everyday affairs.


I suppose that these are the situations we need more of. Just witnessing humans being humans and doing human things.

So often bigots behave as though those they’re prejudiced towards are a subhuman entity that needs to be exterminated to restore a sense of harmony and order to the world.

In reality, we’re all just people. Trying to get by and get on with things before we shuffle off this mortal coil once our number is up.

Coexisting peacefully really isn’t as complicated as it’s made out to be. Being kind to others is far from difficult.

We’re all different, and that’s fine — it doesn’t need to be fire and brimstone and bloodbaths and battalions.

So when you meet someone different from you, just share the soap.

Don’t work yourself into a lather over it. (snip)

Christopher Titus Armageddon clips

“A Deep Dive Into The Fight Against DEI”,

a couple bits from my Refinery 29 newsletter.

I’m A Black Woman Working In DEI & Here’s What It’s Really Like

Dria James Last Updated February 12, 2025, 10:20 AM

Dria James is a former DEI executive, with over a decade of experience driving diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging across financial services, management consulting, higher education, and non-profit sectors. Now, she’s the CEO and founder of Black In Diversity, dedicated to empowering Black leaders and allies to thrive while driving systemic change. Here, shetakes us inside what it’s like to work in America’s most contested industry.

As told to Keyaira Kelly.

The emptiness of not-quite belonging followed me like a shadow from a young age. Born in the late ’80s in Paterson, New Jersey, to two young parents, private school education was seen as one of the few lifelines available for Black folks looking to transcend the social, economic, and political firestorm that engulfed Paterson in the 1990s. At the time, the city was marred by rising crime rates, declining businesses, and severe budget cuts to public schools, leaving many families searching for alternatives. In fact, my mother’s high school, Eastside, is featured in Lean On Me, the Black film classic that details the true story of Paterson’s own Principal Joe Clark, an educator who went to extreme lengths to help improve the test scores and livelihoods of Black students at the inner city school. 

My parents, both educators, witnessed firsthand the crumbling state of local public school education: overcrowded classrooms, underfunded programs, and a growing sense of despair among students and teachers. So, they made immense sacrifices, often forgoing their own comforts, to ensure I had access to a quality education in a private school life. But that choice carried an unseen cost—a nagging fractured sense of identity that lingered long after I left the classroom.

Dria James

Courtesy of Dria James, The author, Dria James

In college, I penned a personal statement titled The Struggle of Adaptation, detailing the weight of double-consciousness I carried as a child while wading alone in a sea of white for most of my formal education. On the one hand, I knew I was privileged to attend the schools I did, gaining access to extracurricular opportunities, like playing the violin and traveling, rare opportunities that few Black kids from Paterson could even dream of at the time. But inside those classrooms, as one of the only Black girls in a space where no one looked like me, I often felt small, like my experiences and perspectives were invisible or undervalued. My educational experience was a tightrope walk between two worlds, never quite falling safely into either.

Looking back, my own awkward dance with cultural isolation set the stage for my future career as a corporate human resources executive in diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI). Perhaps subconsciously, I was driven to resolve my internal conflict by helping other underrepresented communities navigate the challenges of educational and workplace integration with less angst. But DEI work extends far beyond my personal story, it is deeply woven into this country’s history. The earliest forms of this work trace back to the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which guaranteed equal employment rights to Americans regardless of race, age, sex, religion, or national origin. With that storied history on my shoulders, I enrolled at Cornell University, determined to make a tangible impact. My first step? A DEI internship at a major financial institution, where I arrived with the enthusiasm of a true changemaker, eager to reshape the narrative.

As an intern, I was involved in diversity recruiting efforts on college campuses. As a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed college junior, I put together a list of schools to visit, including Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs), determined to bring diverse, qualified Black talent into the Wall Street pipeline. But I was quickly hit with my first strip of DEI yellow caution tape — I was told those schools were too small to justify a campus visit from a budget perspective and was instead directed to focus on institutions with larger enrollment numbers.

That early career disappointment was a wake-up call. As much as I wanted my work to be heart-centered and passion-driven, I realized that passion alone wasn’t enough in the corporate world. Everything had to have a clear return on investment (ROI). That’s why the current narrative that DEI is a shell-tactic to simply give a handout to undeserving folks is so wildly misleading. Companies wouldn’t invest in these policies if they weren’t economically advantageous to their bottom line. (snip-there is MORE; not tl,dr.)

=====

In War On DEI, Law Is Being Used As A Weapon — These Leaders Are Fighting Back

Brea Baker Last Updated February 3, 2025, 9:25 AM

“Nothing that you are seeing right now is normal,” says Gabrielle Perry, a political commentator, nonprofit founder, and organizer. “We are seeing the Latino community buying groceries in bulk so that they do not have to leave their homes frequently. We are seeing Native American people’s citizenship being called into question. We are seeing Black people in mass being laid off from their jobs at the federal level.” In each of these situations, the law is being weaponized as a tool of fear and anxiety, but it’s the latter threat — the legal war against diversity, equity, and inclusions in workplaces — that hits home for Perry. “DEI has now become synonymous with Black people and that’s not an accident,” says Perry, who is the founder and executive director of The Thurman Perry Foundation, a nonprofit organization that lost a $35,000 grant that they normally receive annually. “White people, particularly white men, are suing nonprofits and universities for awarding any aid to anyone on the basis of race or gender,” she tweeted out afterwards. Though Perry’s organization wasn’t sued, her funders are responding to this moment with an abundance of caution which means pulling “risky” investments. And after Trump’s executive order urging the roll back of DEI at the federal level, everyone else seems to be falling in line and investing in anything Black is deemed a “risk”. 

Fear is a powerful motivator and the threat of having the full force of the American legal system against you is enough to make anyone cower. For example, even when Latine Americans do have citizenship, there is a fear of being rounded up anyway with no clear path to resistance. And even when there is no legal grounds to strip employees of their right to equity and inclusion, Trump’s grandstanding has stoked enough uncertainty that his rhetoric is working. Multiple brands have announced they are either ending or curtailing their DEI efforts in what seems to be a pre-emptive show of compliance to the Trump administration. That’s exactly what makes these shifts so dangerous; conservatives don’t even need to have constitutional cover for their onslaught. Republicans only need to make the average American fear their proposed policies enough to shift their behavior proactively. 

These attacks are not new. Over the past few years, Republicans have come after “woke culture,” critical race theory, affirmative action, and now DEI. Trump has positioned DEI as standing in the way of others’ freedoms, a falsehood that his base has run with in recent years. “The distortion of our words and work is right out of the playbook for opponents of freedom for all people,” says Susan Taylor Batten, President and CEO of ABFE. She encourages people to refocus the conversation around the true history of this country and Black organizations’ consistent investment in fighting for all people regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, ability, and more. Similarly, Dr. Alvin Tillery believes we need to shift our strategy for how we communicate what is happening. Tillery is a tenured professor at Northwestern University and founder of The Alliance for Black Equality. “I see so many beautiful Black kids on social media posting things like, ‘Donald Trump is a DEI hire.’ No, he’s not,” Tillery corrected. “DEI hires are qualified and legitimate. Donald Trump is a white supremacy hire.” When conservatives co-opt progressive messaging, the answer isn’t to fall in line with their revisionism. “We don’t need to respond to racism by saying we’re excellent,” Tillery warns. “Rebranding our work won’t protect us or these programs because this fight isn’t rational. We have to fight back.” 

Perry also expanded on this moment and how these attacks are bleeding into all facets of American life — not just Black communities. “People began to see this coming to a head on a national lens last February when the Fearless Fund venture capital lawsuit hit national headlines,” Perry expounded. The Fearless Fund previously extended grants to small businesses led by women of color and was sued by Edward Blum and his conservative organization, the American Alliance for Equal Rights. The claim was essentially one of reverse-racism; that by only opening their grant program to Black women, Fearless Fund was discriminating against others in violation of the Civil Rights Act of 1866. “At the time,” Perry said, “I knew it was horrible what was happening to her but I had no idea that was going to trickle down to my little organization in Louisiana. [Arian Simone] made the absolutely selfless decision to settle and to close her doors because she knew that if she took it to the Supreme Court, so much would be stacked against her, and that it would affect all of us.” Blum and the AAER claimed victory, labeling the Fearless Fund’s work as “divisive and illegal” and painted the founders — working to resource the most marginalized among us — as exclusionary (Unbothered has reached out to Blum and the AAER and they have yet to respond). Unfortunately, the decision has hurt Black founders anyway as funders pull resources in fear of litigation and as the federal government remains on the attack. Litigation is expensive and sets precedence which can completely shift the landscape facing Black-led organizations. It takes deep coffers to go up against a high-powered law team and, if you lose, a single legal decision can hurt thousands of organizations. For many, it’s easier to avoid lawsuits altogether.

“The cruelty is the point,” Gabrielle Perry reiterated. “Trump is testing what will hold and what won’t. Who’s going to push back and who won’t.” Perry urges that there needs to be a strong and unrelenting response to these attacks, something Democrats haven’t been doing with nearly enough force. Tillery agrees and brought up some important historical context to emphasize how much more could be done right now. “We have more power in 2025 than Dr. King and Fannie Lou Hamer and Rosa Parks and Ralph Abernathy had in 1964 when the Civil Rights Act passed,” Tillery called out. “There were three Black members of Congress, then, and it was a segregated institution. Today there are over 60 Black members of Congress including five Black senators who have the ability to filibuster. Why aren’t we putting pressure on them right now to step up?” (snip-MORE; again, not tl,dr.)

Another Piece I Lifted Off Ten Bears:

“Western Grosbeak”

Groups helping LGBTQ+ victims of violence could face a catastrophic loss of federal funding

Feb 26, 2025 Mel Leonor Barclay, Jasmine Mithani

This story was originally reported by Mel Leonor Barclay and Jasmine Mithani of The 19th. Meet Mel and Jasmine and read more of their reporting on gender, politics and policy.

Organizations that provide services to LGBTQ+ victims of domestic and intimate partner violence expect much of the federal funding they rely on to dry up as the Trump administration’s executive orders target the work they have been carrying out for years.

Some received direct notices from the federal government to stop work that promotes what the administration is calling “gender ideology extremism” and to include disclaimers on their websites that the federal government doesn’t support their mission. 

Federal grants make up significant shares of operating budgets for many domestic violence nonprofits, and losing that funding puts their continued existence at risk. 

Groups that focus specifically on LGBTQ+ victims are part of a broader network of federally funded nonprofits that provide life-saving counseling, housing and legal aid to people experiencing violence from spouses, partners or family members. Some nonprofits also train social workers, therapists and lawyers in how to work sensitively with LGBTQ+ victims of violence. 

The White House has promised to slash funding for programs that don’t align with the administration’s ideology on gender, race and immigration.

Domestic violence groups and the broader network of gender-based violence nonprofits have been on high alert since a temporary federal freeze in late January, as The 19th reported this month. The vague language of President Donald Trump’s executive orders — “illegal” diversity, equity, inclusion and accessibility activities; “gender ideology extremism” — has left organizations scrambling to figure out if they stand to lose federal funding.

Some are trying to protect their funding by removing language or resources that they fear may be at odds with the executive orders. The people leading groups founded specifically to support LGBTQ+ people say that for them, there is no hiding: The executive orders specifically target the people they are focused on serving.

“Some groups are making an effort to kind of change the way they talk about their services and the populations they serve. Our organization literally has the words gay and lesbian in our IRS name — we’re not fooling anybody. And obscuring what we do and who we serve doesn’t help those services stay accessible,” said Audacia Ray, the interim executive director of the New York City Anti-Violence Project, officially the New York City Gay And Lesbian Anti-Violence Project Inc., which supports LGBTQ+ and HIV-affected victims of violence.

LGBTQ+ Americans, with the exception of gay men, are more likely to have experienced domestic violence, partner abuse or dating violence than cisgender and heterosexual people.  Queer women are significantly more likely to have experienced intimate-partner violence in their lifetime than straight women, according to an analysis of federal survey data by the Human Rights Campaign. 

Transgender people are four times more likely to be victims of violent crime than cisgender people, according to research from the Williams Institute at UCLA. Fifty-four percent of respondents to the 2015 U.S. Trans Survey — the most recent data available — said they have experienced intimate partner violence, and 47 percent reported being sexually assaulted. Transgender people are also more likely to experience severe physical intimate partner violence than the average American. 

Nonprofits serving victims of violence have long relied on federal funding, especially since the Violence Against Women Act created specialized grant programs 30 years ago. They receive little support from private philanthropy: Most recent data from the Equitable Giving Lab shows about 0.1 percent of charitable giving in the United States goes toward LGBTQ+ causes, and less than 2 percent goes toward women and girls

“The danger of this moment is that it becomes very nebulous to people how federal funding contributes to the basic social safety net. There aren’t donors. There isn’t all this money,” said the executive director of a regional nonprofit serving LGBTQ+ victims of violence that receives about 40 percent of its funding from the federal government. The organization helps offer shelter and direct cash assistance, among other services, to LGBTQ+ people fleeing violence. 

The executive director spoke on condition of anonymity out of fear that their organization would be targeted further by the Trump administration.

“When people are facing imminent threat of being murdered, and there are no resources to give people funding to flee that situation … it is going to result in more death. Truly, I believe that.” 

The need for targeted LGBTQ+ services

Nonprofits focused specifically on LGBTQ+ communities sprung up to meet the specific needs of this population, which experiences higher incidences of violence and also discrimination based on gender-identity and sexual orientation. 

Specialized resources for LGBTQ+ survivors are dearly needed: A 2017 survey of LGBTQ+ survivors who received services from the National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs showed that 43 percent of LGBTQ+ intimate partner violence survivors were denied entry to a shelter; of those denied, a third were refused entry due to their gender identity. 

LGBTQ+ people are vulnerable to abuse related to their identity, including threats of outing that could cost them housing, jobs or other relationships. Queer survivors are often isolated from typical support systems like family who could help them in an abusive situation. Transgender people are more likely to be killed by intimate partner violence, and the risk is increased for people of color, especially Black trans women. 

Groups focused on LGBTQ+ survivors serve as a critical safety net for LGBTQ+ victims, often accepting referrals from national and local groups without tailored resources. The Hotline, a national nonprofit that supports victims of domestic violence, describes the “fear of not receiving services” as an obstacle “to reaching safety that LGBTQ+ people might confront.” It offers referrals to service providers focused on LGBTQ+ people – the same providers that are now staring down the loss of federal funding. 

Given the executive orders, “there’s no universe in which some of the work doesn’t take a hit. I feel very clear about that,” said Ray of the New York City Anti-Violence Project. And at the same time, “we have to be able to answer the phone and support our community, who’s directly impacted by all this violence.”

NYCAVP runs a 24/7 hotline for victims of violence, as well as free long-term counseling, legal services and connections to support groups. About two-thirds of the organization’s budget comes from a mix of federal, state and local government grants. Most of its funding comes from programs targeting “underserved communities.” 

Ray said that the New York City Anti-Violence Project, in addition to offering direct services to victims, including through its hotline, also spends resources advocating and advising lawmakers on legislation affecting LGBTQ+ people. For example, NYCAVP helped shape the 2013 reauthorization of the Violence Against Women Act, the first federal funding statute that banned discrimination based on actual or perceived gender identity and sexual orientation. 

“My immediate thought was we will do what we do as long as we can, and we’re not preemptively laying people off or shutting anything down,” Ray said. 

“We have a couple different contingency plans around, ‘What are the services that we need to prioritize and center, and how do we continue to do that as long as possible?’”

The executive director who spoke on condition of anonymity said their organization connected with more than 600 LGBTQ+ people facing abuse and violence in the past year. Some came as referrals from domestic and intimate partner violence organizations that weren’t equipped to serve them, or who were working with a victim needing relocation to a state less hostile to LGBTQ+ people. “It’s kind of like an informal witness protection program,” they said.  

Without federal funding, they said, their ability to help these victims will significantly shrink. 

How nonprofits are fighting back

In a lawsuit filed Thursday by Lambda Legal on behalf of nine nonprofits that receive federal funding, the plaintiffs argue that the Trump administration’s executive orders, including the order calling for the end of federal funding for activities that promote “gender ideology extremism,” amount to “an existential threat to transgender people.” They argue the orders are unconstitutional because they violate the groups’ free speech, due process and equal protection rights. 

“The executive orders force plaintiffs to silence their speech and viewpoints… that are not only of great societal importance but also central to plaintiffs’ missions… or forgo federal funding,” the complaint reads. “That choice is an impossible one.”

Among the plaintiffs suing Trump is FORGE, one of the only organizations in the country focused on supporting transgender people experiencing intimate partner violence. FORGE trains providers who assist transgender and nonbinary survivors of sexual assault, intimate partner violence and hate crimes. The 30-year-old organization also connects victims with wellness services.

According to the case filing, 90 percent of FORGE’s funding is derived from federal grants, the highest out of any listed plaintiff. It has received grants from a wide range of agencies including the Department of Justice, the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) and the National Institutes of Health. 

Several other plaintiffs that received funds from HHS programs, according to the complaint,  were sent notices in late January to “immediately terminate, to the maximum extent, all programs, personnel, activities, or contracts promoting ‘diversity, equity, and inclusion’” or, separately, “gender ideology.”

“Trans and nonbinary people are scared and hurting – not only from the high levels of violence so many of us experience every day, but also because of the dehumanizing, erasing, and damaging impact of the Executive Orders. For the past 30 years, FORGE has been committed to serving trans survivors of sexual assault, stalking, and hate-fueled harm. We are not going anywhere,” michael munson, executive director of FORGE, said in a statement. “Conditioning federal funding on rejecting transgender identity and DEI not only harms trans people, but it also creates a world that is less safe and less free for us all.”

Deleting language and resources

The National LGBTQ Institute on Intimate Partner Violence urged fellow providers to “hold the line together” and stand in solidarity with LGBTQ+, immigrant and BIPOC survivors in an email obtained by The 19th. The missive explicitly called upon organizations to continue serving LGBTQ+ survivors, to not take down materials tailored to the queer community and to keep pronouns on public-facing materials. It also cited previous reporting from The 19th detailing how some groups removed mentions of LGBTQ+ people from their websites.

“For organizations that have removed LGBTQ+ materials, we encourage that these materials be restored,” the statement read. “We urge organizations to not cede our collective power as a movement and back down in our work to protect LGBTQ+ survivors.”

The group reminded organizations in its network that federal law — the same law that the New York City Anti-Violence Center helped pass — makes it illegal to discriminate based on actual or perceived gender identity or sexual orientation. “These federal non-discrimination policies remain in place and give us power to protect transgender survivors in the work that we do,” the organization said. 

The Los Angeles LGBT Center, where the institute is housed, declined to speak on the record, citing the current lawsuit.

Several days later, Respect Together, the umbrella organization of the National Sexual Violence Resource Center and the Pennsylvania Coalition to Advance Respect, publicly apologized for removing resources for LGBTQ+ people from their websites. 

“Federal and state funding accounts for the vast majority of our operational budget, and as a result, we acted too swiftly to the news from the current administration,” the apology reads. “We heard you, and recognize that this was the wrong choice,” CEO Yolanda Edrington said in the statement. “We are committed to rebuilding trust, learning from this experience, and ensuring that our actions align with our mission to support survivors of all communities, their allies, and advocates.”

The Hotline, which had deactivated a page on LGBTQ+ resources earlier this month, has now restored it. The organization did not respond to a request for comment on the restoration, but told The 19th earlier this month that it was reviewing its website to protect its federal funding.

Even if groups commit to still serve all people in need, regardless of identity, removing resources adds friction. Visibility and ease of navigating resources when you are in need of services is important, said Tandra LaGrone, the CEO of In Our Own Voices, a nonprofit supporting LGBTQ+ people of color in upstate New York, which has received a grant from the Office on Violence Against Women.

The erasure of information can lead victims to feel like they are at fault, LaGrone said.

Ray said that it’s a big risk to not change their organization’s public-facing content in anticipation of a potential loss of funding, but they think holding steady is the right thing to do. Backing down won’t reduce violence, they said. 

“I really believe that complying in advance of direct demands and being forced to change those programs is contributing to the overall violence against LGBT people,” Ray said. “That sort of advance compliance is extremely worrisome to me, because it shows that those orgs are concerned about the org as an institution more than they’re concerned about the community as a directly impacted population.”