Black LGBTQ Americans are disproportionately affected by the economic downturn fueled by the COVID-19 pandemic, according to a new report.
An online survey of 10,000 people across the U.S., conducted from April to July by LGBTQ advocacy group Human Rights Campaign and PSB Insights, found that Black LGBTQ respondents fared worse than both the Black population and the LGBTQ population along every economic indicator measured.
“The data make clear what we have long known: that those living at the intersections of multiply marginalized identities face harsher consequences of the pandemic.”
ALPHONSO DAVID, HUMAN RIGHTS CAMPAIGN
“We know Black people are dying from COVID-19 at extremely alarming rates. Unfortunately, this new research shows Black people and Black LGBTQ people are suffering disproportionate economic inequities,” HRC President Alphonso David said in a statement. “The data make clear what we have long known: that those living at the intersections of multiply marginalized identities face harsher consequences of the pandemic.”
The most recent report builds on prior studies conducted by HRC and PSB Insights that found LGBTQ people — particularlytransgender people of color — are more likely to have been economically affected as a result of the pandemic.
‘Multiple marginalized identities’
The study found that Black LGBTQ people were more likely to have had their jobs affected by the pandemic.
“Within the LGBTQ community, many at the intersection of multiple marginalized identities are at some of the greatest risk of facing the economic fallout from COVID-19,” the report states.
Specifically, 31 percent of Black LGBTQ respondents to the survey reported a reduction in their work hours, compared to 23 percent of all Black respondents and 28 percent of all LGBTQ respondents.
Black LGBTQ people were also more likely to have lost their jobs: 18 percent of Black LGBTQ respondents became unemployed, compared to 16 percent of both all Black respondents and all LGBTQ respondents.
J. Maurice McCants-Pearsall, the HRC’s director HIV and health equity, told NBC News that Black people are overrepresented in sectors of the economy like food service and retail most likely to be affected by the economic fallout of the pandemic and most likely to be exposed to the virus.
“They are classified as essential workers, but a lot of them went without proper [personal protective equipment] and supplies,” he said. “They couldn’t afford not to show up at work, and they have to make money to earn a living for themselves and their families.”
According to the report, Black LGBTQ people are more likely to have changed the way their households are spending and to be under financial stress as a result of the pandemic.
Over one third (36 percent) of Black LGBTQ respondents reported having changed their household budgets, compared to 27 percent of all Black respondents and 30 percent of LGBTQ respondents. One in five Black LGBTQ respondents has checked to see if their bank account was in overdraft, whereas 14 percent of both all Black respondents and all LGBTQ respondents reported the same.
Black LGBTQ people were more likely to request delays in bills and rent. Twenty-one percent of the Black LGBTQ people surveyed had asked for delays in paying their bills, compared to 17 percent of Black respondents and 14 percent of LGBTQ respondents. Nearly a quarter (23 percent) of Black LGBTQ respondents had requested delays in paying their rent, compared to 12 percent of Black respondents and 11 percent of LGBTQ respondents.
‘Racism is a public health issue’
The HRC study falls in line with existing research that demonstrates that Black Americans are disproportionately affected by the virus.
“Racism is a public health issue” McCants-Pearsall said. “If we don’t address structural and social racism, we can’t expect to have improved outcomes for communities of color, in particular Black communities.”
McCants-Pearsall said the U.S. can apply the lessons learned from the HIV epidemic for communities of color to the response to COVID-19.
“Communities of color, particularly Black gay men, are disproportionately impacted by HIV,” McCants-Pearsall said. “We are seeing the same situation.”
For McCants-Pearsall, better data collection is key to addressing economic and health disparities among LGBTQ people, people of color and those at the intersection of the two groups.
In a letter to Health Secretary Alex Azar, HRC joined racial justice organizations in a campaign demanding that the agency compile accurate data as it relates to LGBTQ people of color in the U.S.
“We can use that data to advocate for candidates, to argue for more resources,” McCants-Pearsall said. “It gives us the ability to show decision makers these are populations that are being disproportionately impacted. This is data that shows that we need to make sure that those resources got to those communities.”
“If we don’t have that data, we are just screaming,” he added.
When a right-wing populist party won the right to govern Poland five years ago, Piotr Grabarczyk feared “bad things” might happen to gay men like him and other LGBTQ people. He sometimes considered leaving the country, but waited.
Friends and a job bound Grabarczyk to Warsaw, the relatively liberal capital city. He trusted that Poland’s membership in the European Union would protect his community. Yet his dwindling faith finally fell away as President Andrzej Duda campaigned for reelection on an anti-LGBTQ platform — and won.
Duda, who repeatedly described the LGBTQ rights movement as a dangerous “ideology,” was sworn into his second term Thursday. Grabarczyk, 31, is now gone, along with other gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender Poles who have emigrated to escape what they consider homophobia promoted by the highest levels of government.
“Like where’s the line? Is there a line they are not going to cross? I don’t know,” Grabarczyk said after landing last week in Barcelona, Spain, where both same-sex marriages and adoptions are legal. “That was kind of scary.”
He spoke to The Associated Press alongside his boyfriend, Kamil Pawlik, 34, who left Poland three days after Duda beat Warsaw’s mayor in a runoff last month.
While gays and lesbians have never had the legal right to marry or to form civil unions in Poland, as they can in much of Europe, many felt confident until not long ago that Polish society was becoming more accepting and that those rights would one day come.
They have instead faced a furious backlash from the Catholic Church and the government. Duda proposed a constitutional amendment to prevent same-sex couples from adopting children. Last year, the Roman Catholic archbishop of Krakow warned of a “rainbow plague,” and the ruling Law and Justice party has described LGBTQ rights as a threat to families and Poland’s Catholic identity.
While Grabarczyk, an entertainment reporter and blogger with a large YouTube following, and freelance graphic designer Pawlik are not planning marriage or children right now, the proposed adoption ban was their exit sign. They felt that it showed a determination by the authorities to put discrimination into law, as President Vladimir Putin has done in Russia.
No statistics exist on how many LGBTQ people have left Poland. Activists say some departed after Law and Justice and Duda, who is backed by the party, came to power in 2015 and created an unfriendly climate for liberals and minorities.
As Duda faced a tough electoral challenge from Warsaw Mayor Rafał Trzaskowski, the rhetoric grew harsher. He called the LGBTQ movement an “ideology” worse than communism and declared that LGBTQ was “not people.” He formally proposed the same-sex adoption ban.
After his victory, Duda apologized for language he acknowledged was sometimes too “harsh.” A prominent LGBTQ activist, Bart Staszewki, nevertheless asked on Facebook if anyone was thinking of moving away from Poland. He received hundreds of replies, mostly from people saying they were contemplating it or had already left.
Britain, Germany, the Netherlands, Spain and other European Union countries are where LGBTQ emigres are envisioning their futures. They follow generations of Poles who have fled political repression at home, including during the communist era.
The recent exodus represents “a second wave of immigration” after the significant number of Poles who moved abroad to work when Poland joined the EU in 2004, Staszewski said.
“This time, people are not looking for better paid jobs, but they are looking for dignity and respect,” he said. “People want to feel that they are protected by the government and not treated as an enemy.”
Others are vowing to stay and fight for LGBTQ rights, among them Staszewski. The 29-year-old said he is inspired by the example of his grandparents, who participated in the underground Polish resistance against the German occupation of Poland during World War II.
But escape is not a realistic option for everyone, particularly those from rural areas without money, foreign languages or other skills required to start over in a new culture.
Michał Niepielski, 57, a radio technician in Krakow who has taken a case to the European Court of Human Rights in hopes of winning the right to marry his partner of 16 years, says he knows some English and could move, but would not be able to work in his field abroad.
Speaking to the AP, Niepielski confessed that he and his partner are “very afraid” but are trying to be positive in their social media comments. The EU’s recent decision to deny small amounts of funding to Polish towns declaring themselves to be “LGBT free” gave them enough hope to keep on going, he said.
“We have sympathy with the people who haven’t come out of the closet yet and now will have to stay in the closet for a long time, perhaps until the end of their lives,” Niepielski said. “That’s a tragedy. That’s one reason we are staying.”
LGBTQ rights have continued to be a flash point since the election. The Justice Ministry awarded funding to a project designed to counteract crimes “committed under the influence of LGBT ideology.”
Three activists protesting homophobia were detained this week and charged with the crimes of insulting monuments or offending religious feeling for hanging rainbow flags on statues in Warsaw, including one of Jesus. If convicted, they could face prison.
There is no law, however, making anti-LGBTQ hate speech a crime.
Grabarczyk, who recently published an ebook of coming-out stories titled “Mom, I’m Gay. Dad, I’m a Lesbian,” said he feels guilty about leaving others behind while he and his boyfriend live in Barcelona. He recalls feeling as a teenager when Poland joined joined the European Union like he was in a new world, where borders didn’t exist and he could easily meet people of different cultures, skin colors and sexual orientations.
“For us, it was a given to live in a world like that, and it’s all crumbling down now,” he said. “So it’s only natural to seek a place where we can return to that.”
Since the Syrian conflict began in March 2011, men and boys and transgender women have been subjected to rape and other forms of sexual violence by the Syrian government and non-state armed groups, including the extremist armed group Islamic State (also known as ISIS). Heterosexual men and boys are vulnerable to sexual violence in Syria, but men who are gay or bisexual—or perceived to be—and transgender women are particularly at risk.
While women and girls are disproportionately targeted by conflict-related sexual violence (CRSV), men and boys are also impacted. However, existing services within gender-based violence (GBV) and child protection are focused almost exclusively on responding to the needs of women and girls and very little attention is paid to the needs of men and boys. Limited data and underreporting—in part fueled by stigma around male vulnerability and reluctance to talk about experiences of sexual violence or seek help for its long-term physical and psychological impact—have contributed to male survivors not receiving adequate attention and help.
This report is based on interviews Human Rights Watch conducted in Lebanon with 40 gay and bisexual men and transgender women—some of whom were perceived by perpetrators to be gay men—and non-binary individuals, as well as 4 heterosexual men. The survivors all described their experience of sexual violence in Syria. We also conducted interviews with 20 caseworkers and representatives of humanitarian organizations operating in Lebanon. While many of the men and boys and transgender women interviewed have also experienced sexual violence in Lebanon, those incidents lie outside the purview of this report.
The report finds that men and boys, regardless of their sexual orientation or gender identity, are vulnerable to sexual violence in the context of the Syrian conflict. According to interviewees, gay and bisexual men and transgender women are subject to increased and intensified violence based on actual or perceived sexual orientation or gender identity. The sexual violence described included rape, sexual harassment, genital violence (beating, electric shock and burning of genitals), threat of rape of themselves or female family members, and forced nudity by state and non-state armed groups. This violence has taken place in various settings, including Syrian detention centers, checkpoints, central prisons, and within the ranks of the Syrian army.
This report also finds that survivors of sexual violence may suffer from various psychological traumas such as depression, post-traumatic stress, sexual trauma, loss of hope and paranoid thoughts. Due to the sexual violence they have been subjected to, survivors may also suffer from physical traumas, including severe pain in their rectum and genitals, rectal bleeding, and muscle pain, and may have sexually transmitted infections (STIs), including HIV.
Men and boys, transgender women, and non-binary survivors of sexual violence told Human Rights Watch that they did not seek any medical or mental health services in Syria for a range of reasons, including shame, fear of stigma, and a lack of trust in the health care system. Syrian survivors of sexual violence who fled to Lebanon told Human Rights Watch they found limited services and inadequate support from humanitarian organizations. This is often due to lack of funding and personnel trained to respond to their specific needs. For example, there are no protection facilities in Lebanon, such as safe shelters, for men or trans women.
In 2013, the United Nations (UN) Security Council for the first time stated in Security Council Resolution 2106 that conflict-related sexual violence also affects men and boys. The United Nations Refugee Agency (UNHCR) and nongovernmental organizations (NGOs), including All Survivors Project, the Women’s Refugee Commission, Lawyers & Doctors for Human Rights and the Refugee Law Project, have provided significant documentation on the nature and extent of sexual violence perpetrated against men and boys in Syria and elsewhere, and the specific needs of male survivors. This has helped to address the dearth of research.
In March 2018, the Independent International Commission of Inquiry on the Syrian Arab Republic (the Syria COI) published a report with detailed evidence on sexual violence against men and boys in Syria. On April 23, 2019, the UN Security Council adopted resolution 2467 on conflict-related sexual violence, which recognizes that men and boys are also targets of sexual violence in both conflict and post-conflict settings. Resolution 2467 acknowledges the need for enhanced medical and mental health support for survivors of sexual violence and calls on UN member countries to ensure that survivors of sexual violence receive nondiscriminatory access to medical and psychosocial care based on their needs.
The explicit recognition and documentation of CRSV against men and boys as sexual violence is an important step to ensure provision of services tailored to the needs of all survivors of sexual violence. This moves the issue out from being considered only under the more general rubric of “torture,” under which it has previously fallen in reporting and legal analysis. This report aims to shed light on the sexual nature of crimes perpetrated against Syrian men and boys and transgender women.
In a context of shame, stigma, and silence surrounding sexual violence against men and boys—whatever their sexual orientation—and also for transgender women and non-binary people, acknowledging such violence is a prerequisite to providing adequate services and care. It is also vital in challenging the social and cultural assumptions that men are invulnerable, which often underpins the stigma experienced by male and transgender survivors. Increased research on the topic, and attention to the plight of male survivors at the UN Security Council, adds to the momentum toward more adequate service provision.
International donors, including the European Union, should urgently provide resources for tailored medical, psychological and social support programs in Lebanon for men and boys, trans women, and non-binary survivors of sexual violence, without diverting funding from services for women and girls, which is already very scarce. Without funding, humanitarian organizations and service providers in Lebanon cannot meet the needs of the full range of CRSV survivors. Service providers and humanitarian organizations in Lebanon should provide comprehensive and confidential medical and mental health services to male, transgender, and non-binary survivors of sexual violence, with staff trained to handle their needs effectively and appropriately.
Denied medical attention, misgendered, jumped and aggressively handcuffed. These are the abuses that Juniper Simonis, a genderqueer nonbinary pansexual person, suffered after federal authorities took them into custody last month during a protest in the city.
Simonis was drawing property lines with surveying chalk in front of the Edith Green-Wendell Wyatt Federal Building in downtown Portland on July 10. Simonis three days earlier attended a vigil at the same location to honor Summer Taylor, a Seattle protester who was hit and killed by a car in early July.
Federal authorities violently disrupted the vigil.
In the days between the vigil and Simonis’ arrest, they traced the property lines of the federal building in chalk to help protestors avoid trespassing. Simonis also frequently shouted from a distance at agents, asking why the vigil had been disrupted.
Simonis, a 35-year-old quantitative ecologist, has been involved in the protests in Portland since they began in late May. Simonis has marched, provided medical attention and put out fires at the demonstrations — often helping to keep the peace.
“(We) are there to put our bodies, and our lives, and our money and energy towards protecting those who are standing up for their rights right now,” they said.
Simonis believes federal agents targeted them because of the information they have been collecting and sharing on social media. This information included the property lines of federal buildings, photos of agents with their badge numbers, and details about federal police funding.
Simonis also said they feel they were targeted because they are “visibly queer and trans,” and visibly disabled because of their use of a service dog.
“I am a marginalized sitting duck in some respects,” they said.
While Simonis said what happened to them was traumatizing, they do not want their experience to detract from the Black Lives Matter movement. Simonis also believes they survived their detention because they are white.
“We can’t have everybody focusing on the white people getting kidnapped when Black people are still getting killed day-to-day,” they said.
Flashbang grenade thrown at Simonis during previous protest
Federal agents during the July 7 vigil stormed the area. Simonis suspects federal officers were targeting a specific protestor in the crowd for arrest, but to their knowledge, no arrests were made. Simonis described the vigil as peaceful and said there was no provocation for the agents to disperse it.
Amid the disruption, while federal officers were moving back towards the building’s entrance, they threw a flashbang grenade at Simonis and their service dog, Wallace. The agents who conducted the raid were unknown to Simonis, and they couldn’t determine what organization or bureau they represented.
“I was super pissed,” said Simonis. “I spent the next 36 hours trying to figure out who these guys were.”
After fruitless calls to the Portland Police Bureau and the Multnomah County Police Department to help identify the federal agents, Simonis decided to take matters into their own hands.
Knowing the federal agents in question often stood outside the building watching protestors, Simonis decided to research where the property lines of the building are. They wanted the agents to explain why they had disrupted a peaceful vigil, without risking being arrested for trespassing. On July 8 and 9, Simonis marked the divide between federal and public property with chalk to ensure their safety.
“I wanted to stand on the sidewalk and fucking yell at these people, and I wanted to know where I was legally allowed to do that,” Simonis said.
For two days, Simonis documented agents moving in and out of the federal building and eventually identified the officers as members of U.S. Customs and Border Protection and the Department of Homeland Security’s Federal Protective Service.
Simonis on July 9 said they saw multiple federal agents storm out of the building towards them when they were on the southeastern corner of it.
Simonis, who was aware of the arrest of other protestors throughout Portland, said they expected to be “snatched.” But, the agents retreated back into the building.
Simonis at 8:30 p.m. on July 10 returned to the federal building to touch up the chalk line and continue protesting.
As they were fixing the lines near the front entrance, Federal Protective Service and U.S. Customs and Border Protection agents surrounded Simonis, threw them to the ground and handcuffed them.
“They do not say anything. They don’t say, ‘stop.’ They don’t say, ‘what are you doing?’ They don’t say ‘get off our property’ … they don’t say anything. They just streamed out of the front of this building and snatched me,” Simonis said.
Simonis provided the Washington Blade with a video of their arrest.
Simonis said officers used mace and separated them from their service dog.
“As someone who already has PTSD, who already has almost been killed multiple times, including by someone grabbing me from behind, what I instantly get shunted into is a fight or flight response,” they said.
Simonis was detained in handcuffs in the building foyer for an hour before being taken down to the basement. There, agents told them they were under arrest for spray painting federal property.
“Even though everything I had in my hands was chalk — it was clearly chalk — they just assumed I was doing something illegal, even though I knew I wasn’t, and I had all of the documentation to show them that I wasn’t,” Simonis said.
When Simonis was taken into the federal building foyer, an officer offered medical attention, but Simonis requested a trained medical professional flush their eyes and tend to their open wounds.
Two Portland Fire and Rescue members arrived an hour later, but Simonis said they only made matters worse.
According to Simonis, the medical team did not properly flush their eyes, mouth and nose with pressure. Rather they splashed saline solution from an IV bag into the affected areas. Simonis also said the medical team did not remove their contact lenses, even though they repeatedly asked them to do so.
During the hour before Simonis said federal officers insisted they lay on their side during the hour before they received medical treatment. They said this caused the mace to pool in their nasal passages, rather than drain away. The medical team also held Simonis on their side as they began treatment, which caused their nose to become full of water, which exacerbated their breathing issues caused by the mace and subsequent panic attacks.
“It was basically like my head was being shoved under a pool for a minute,” Simonis said. They described the act as “being water-boarded.”
Simonis asked repeatedly for additional medical attention, including treatment for open cuts on their body. They were denied additional help.
“It’s really sad — as the daughter, granddaughter and niece of firefighters — to be saying this, but I am horribly disappointed and appalled at the actions of Portland Fire and Rescue,” Simonis said.
Throughout the time Simonis was in federal custody, they said they were repeatedly misgendered. The agents exclusively referred to Simonis, who identifies as nonbinary and has two forms of identification legally identifying them as a woman, as “sir.” Simonis said they also repeatedly corrected the officers, who did not respect their gender identity.
Despite the fact Simonis’ driver’s license and passport both identify them as a woman, the medical services receipt also listed their gender as male. Simonis also believes their identification had been reviewed, as the contents of their bag had been shifted when their possessions were returned to them.
Simonis was then taken to the adjacent Mark O. Hatfield Federal Courthouse after two hours in the Edith Green-Wendell Wyatt Federal Building, and was held in a cell without access to a lawyer, phone call, sanitizer or water.
Prior to being placed in the cell, a male U.S. Marshal patted them down. Simonis requested a female agent for the procedure, but was told by an agent, “they don’t do that here.”
Simonis was still separated from their service dog when they were at the courthouse, and did not have access to their medication. Simonis said agents threatened to take their dog to a shelter, telling them their dog “would not be there when you get out.”
Simonis was released on petty charges roughly six hours later. They are still awaiting a court date for failure to comply with a lawful order and assaulting, resisting or impeding officers.
Officials with U.S. Customs and Border Protection, the Federal Protective Service and Department of Homeland Security did not respond to the Blade’s requests for a comment. Portland Fire Rescue and the Mark O. Hatfield Courthouse have also not returned requests for comment.
Simonis has not proceeded formally with charges but plans to in the near future. They are planning to pursue a variety of legal actions, including individual and class action lawsuits.
“I have been getting all of my legal ducks in a row … while also trying to heal and support the movement,” they said.
Simonis said they are also experiencing a variety of physical and emotional injuries from the event, including nerve damage in both hands after being handcuffed for two hours in metal cuffs latched too tightly.
“I told them repeatedly that my hands were going numb, and they repeatedly ignored me,” they said.
After they were released from federal custody, Simonis was diagnosed with neuropathy in both hands. Simonis said they still have not regained full mobility or feeling in their hands and the injuries have made it difficult to complete day-to-day activities, including walking their dog and typing on their computer.
Simonis is also experiencing heightened PTSD symptoms. They also said they are currently dealing with insomnia, dissociation of different parts of the body, manic episodes, a lack of appetite and suicidal thoughts.
Simonis said they are also dealing with hyper-vigilance. Simonis said they are often afraid passing cars are unmarked and being used by federal officers.
“I am literally evaluating every car that drives by me. Hypervigilance is an understatement,” they said.
While they took a week off from participating in the protests, Simonis has been dropping off chalk in Portland for passersby to write messages on the sidewalk, because “that’s what I was arrested for doing.”
“I thought the best way to respond to the absurdity of being arrested for chalking on a city sidewalk by federal agents was to provide chalk for the rest of my community members to use, in a federally kidnappable way on our city sidewalk,” they said.
Trans prisoners in a New York county were delivered a stunning victory Wednesday (August 5) when a roster of LGBT+ activist organisations secured them a vital but simple right: To be incarcerated as the correct gender.
The landmark legal settlement was described by activists as having secured some of the most “robust policies in the country” to better protect trans folk in custody in the western Steuben County.
The case was brought forward after 43-year-old trans military veteran Jena Faith was sentenced to a month in Steuben County Jail in 2019. While initially kept in the women’s division of the jail, she was later transferred to the men’s where she experienced weeks of verbal and physical humiliation and abuse from inmates and guards alike.
Trans woman tossed in men’s jail: ‘No one should ever be subjected to the cruelty and harassment I endured.’
Faith filed a lawsuit with the TLDEF after her rattling experience in a men’s facility. Trapped in the tight, cramped cells with male prisoners, she detailed in a report to the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) how inmates harassed her, guards misgendered her, and told of how she was denied hormone therapy.
As a result of the settlement, the county will now commit itself to a package of policy changes designed to treat trans, non-binary, gender non-conforming and intersex folk with dignity and respect.
These range from housing inmates in line with their gender identities and training prison staff to respect inmates’ pronouns to giving access to clothing, toiletry and grooming products and appropriate medical care.
Transgender Legal Defense & Education Fund (TLDEF) and the New York Civil Liberties Union hope that the new policies will offer a blueprint for other prisons across the state and the US.
“No one should ever be subjected to the cruelty and harassment I endured.
“Everyone housed in detention facilities deserves to be treated with dignity and respect, including transgender people. I hope my case will help others, not only in Steuben County, but also across New York and beyond.”
Efforts by the Obama administration to ensure trans convicts were protected from sexual abuse and assault were unwound by president Donald Trump in 2018.
The Trump administration has proposed a new regulation that would gut the asylum laws in the United States; excluding those who are applying because of the violence they face as LGBTQIA+ people, survivors of domestic violence, and many others. Even as a relatively recent resident of the United States, this goes against the very values I came to this country to experience.
I am a 26 year-old lesbian woman and a citizen of a county in Central Asia — a country with zero tolerance of LGBTQIA+ people and with a strong patriarchal culture. I am here in the United States as an asylum seeker because my country refused to accept me and threatened me with violence if I didn’t change, which is impossible.
The proposed new rule may block me from getting the asylum protection I need, and force me to return to a country where my life is in danger.
As a child, I was abused by my parents due to the fact that I was “different” — non-conforming to cultural and religious expectations. This included sending me to physically and mentally abusive “religious” retreats to rid me of the “evil” inside of me. As a teenager, I was threatened by the police and forced to pay them a bribe when they found me in a car with a female classmate. Into my adult years, I was forced to endure a severely physically, sexually and emotionally abusive relationship with a man who coerced me into a relationship with him by threatening to reveal my sexual orientation to others, including my parents.
If I were to return to my home country, I believe I would continue to be subject to violence from my family and a forced marriage. I would not be able to have relationships with other women or even wear short hair and unisex clothing, because to do so would put me at risk of violence from my family and the public. Similarly, I would not be able to continue my activism without threat of violence from ultra-right groups. The only way to guarantee my survival in my home country would be to change my appearance, stop participating in feminist and LGBTQ activism, and live as a lesbian secretly. The years I spent doing this before coming to the United States made me deeply depressed and suicidal.
The government of the country where gay marriage is legal in all of its 50 states should know how important it is to have the basic freedom to love anybody you want. The years of LGBTQIA+ activism and struggle that won those freedoms for Americans make it clear how tough it is to gain that freedom, without getting abused or killed.
Humanity is when people take care of each other globally. Humanity is when one country opens its doors to suffering people from other countries. While the commenting period is closed for the rule that would affect LGBTQ+ asylum seekers, the government is still collecting public comments for another asylum rule that would affect all asylum seekers — trying to use public health as an excuse to keep others out. The LGBTQ+ community knows too well how governments can weaponize health to discriminate against us. It’s not too late to speak out against this rule, and to make the United States a safe place for everyone.
The multinational investment bank Citigroup is being sued by a gay man who claims he was demoted and discriminated against because of his sexual orientation.
The allegations by gay banker Thomas Krauss appear to counter Citigroup’s proud ranking as the most LGBT-inclusive financial services employer in the Stonewall Top 100.
Krauss joined the firm in 2010 and until recently led the firm’s capital introduction group for the Americas, Bloomberg reported.
He says he was targeted when he uncovered complaints of sexual harassment made against a new hire on his team, Deutsche Bank veteran Joseph Genovese.
Concerned that Genovese’s hiring could put Citigroup at risk of creating a “hostile and offensive work environment,” the suit says Krauss disclosed what he learned to senior Citigroup managers, who later withdrew the offer made to Genovese.
Although Krauss made the disclosure in confidence, he claims that several executives pushed to find out who “blew the whistle” on Genovese.
Once they learned it was Krauss, they allegedly began a campaign to punish him which eventually resulted in him being demoted.
Sadly the retaliation didn’t end there: despite receiving consistently positive evaluations, Krauss’s 2019 year-end review reflected a decrease in his leadership rating, which led to a pay reduction and “effectively destroyed his Citi career,” according to the complaint.
Krauss also alleges that he was denied a promotion to managing director because of his sexual orientation and for extra work he did on behalf of the company’s LGBT+ initiatives.
“It is easy to say you are not tolerant of discrimination but action, as is true with Citi, speaks louder than empty words,” said Krauss’s lawyer Daniel Kaiser in a statement Monday (3 August).
Rosa Diaz and her daughter were riding their motorcycles through rural Brawley, California, this year when they noticed a young person who appeared lost walking down the town’s main street. Diaz, who runs the only LGBTQ resource center for miles, sensed that the person might be in need of support.
She told her daughter to continue ahead, and Diaz made a U-turn.
“I asked her for her name,” and the person shared a male name, Diaz said in an interview. “I said, ‘Is there another name that you prefer?’ And that’s when she told me, ‘Well, I like Marilyn.'”
Diaz asked her whether she needed anything. “I need a new wig,” Diaz recalled Marilyn saying, gesturing to her worn clothes and hairpiece. Diaz gave her a business card, and Marilyn promised to call her after the weekend. Diaz’s team found her a wig, but the call never came.
“I didn’t know about Marilyn again until I was called regarding her death,” Diaz said.
Marilyn Cazares, 22, was found dead last month in an abandoned building in Brawley, about a half-hour north of the Mexican border. It has been a particularly deadly year for trans people — especially trans women of color. In 2019, 27 trans people died because of violence in total. In 2020, the number has already reached 25, according to the Human Rights Campaign.
In July alone, there were six violent deaths of trans and gender-nonconforming people across the U.S. — all but one of them trans Black or Latinx women — making it the deadliest month so far for this vulnerable community.
In the weeks following her encounter with Cazares in February, Diaz and her small team at the Imperial Valley LGBT Resource Centertried to reach out to Cazares. But they didn’t have her last name or any other information about her. Since her death, family and friends have spoken out about a young woman who lived her truth despite being bullied, ridiculed and violated by members of her community. Her family said they believe her death was a hate crime.
Brawley police are investigating Cazares’ death as a homicide, and Diaz said the community is hungry for answers.
Mindy Garcia, Cazares’ aunt, told NBC affiliate KYMA of Yuma, Arizona, which serves the Brawley area, that her niece was “very brave,” “very outspoken” and “very loved.”
“She was very beautiful,” Garcia added.
An openly hostile environment
Diaz, who grew up in Imperial County, where Brawley is located, came out as lesbian in her 40s. She describes the area as one that at best lacks LGBTQ resources and at worst is an environment that’s openly hostile to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer residents.
She started a support group in 2014 after she had nowhere else to turn for a sense of community — and people began turning up in large numbers.
“People who came to this group were telling me, ‘You know, we appreciate what you’re doing, but I need counseling, I need hormone therapy, I need artificial insemination,'” she said. “I wasn’t prepared for all of that.”
But within six months, she had founded the Imperial Valley LGBT Resource Center. She said she has had to “tread lightly” for it to be viewed as a reputable community organization. It’s still the only LGBTQ center in Imperial County, which includes seven cities and about 180,000 residents.
“This is where I began to hear stories,” Diaz said of the center. “Those who were a little flamboyant and very comfortable with themselves … they were considered to be crazy, weird, even evil to some extent.”
She said she’s certain Cazares experienced that kind of treatment in her short lifetime.
“According to what I heard from the family — and because I know my community — Marilyn or anybody that could appear as if they’re one gender but identify as another gender are ridiculed,” she said. “They are seen as people with a mental illness, or, you know, people that are not right.”
She said LGBTQ people in Imperial Valley are pushed out of their families, their churches and their communities. She also said Cazares’ death marks the second high-profile homicide of a Latina trans woman from Brawley, after the murder of trans teen Gwen Araujo in 2002.
“The community is angry, of course, because we know that trans women are being killed all over,” Diaz said. “A lot of people believe that these things only happen in big cities, and here, it has hit home.”
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Diaz emphasized the need for LGBTQ education in communities like Brawley, where, she said, many residents are unaware of how their LGBTQ neighbors might struggle. Since her death, Cazares has been misgendered in the media — even by members of her family. But Diaz said her goal is to lead with education and information rather than attacks, especially for working-class people who are still learning.
“It’s a sad event,” Diaz said. “But it’s also an opportunity to really honor Marilyn and to let the family know: ‘We remember her like this, because this is who she was.'”
The Wild: Mark Titus, Director [62 minutes] Conversation with Mark Titus available
By suddenly dismantling safeguards the EPA had enacted to protect the salmon, water and people of Bristol Bay – the current political regime in the United States has unilaterally revived a mining corporation’s relentless pursuit to build North America’s largest open-pit copper mine – directly in the headwaters of the most prodigious wild sockeye salmon run in the world.
This urgent threat spurs filmmaker, Mark Titus back to the Alaskan wilderness – where the people of Bristol Bay and the world’s largest wild salmon runs face devastation if a massive copper mine is constructed. The Wild is a race against time.
Eye of the Pangolin: Bruce Young, Director [46 minutes + Filmmaker Conversation]
The search for an animal on the edge.
Due to an increasingly insatiable market in Asia, their pangolins have disappeared almost entirely. They are poached and killed for the supposed medicinal value of their scales and as a dining delicacy. Due to an increasingly insatiable market in Asia, their pangolins have disappeared almost entirely. They are poached and killed for the supposed medicinal value of their scales and as a dining delicacy.
Two award-winning South African filmmakers are on a mission to capture the African pangolin on film in the hope that if people come to know it, they will care enough to help end this horrific trade.
L’eau Est La Vie: From Standing Rock To The Swamp: Sam Vinal, Director [24 minutes]
On the banks of Louisiana, fierce Indigenous women are ready to fight—to stop the corporate blacksnake and preserve their way of life. They are risking everything to protect Mother Earth from the predatory fossil fuel companies that seek to poison it. Cherri Foytlin leads us on a no-nonsense journey of Indigenous resistance to the Bayou Bridge Pipeline (BBP) in the swamps of Louisiana.
This struggle is not over a singular pipeline. Rather, the pipeline is one piece of an ongoing legacy of colonization and slow genocide.
This collection of films from SDFF 2020 is part of our online series Docs Make House Calls.
Iowa students are turning to Instagram to call out teachers and peers for the routine homophobia, racism, misogyny and sexual harassment they experience everyday at school.
Submitting their stories anonymously via three Instagram accounts – dedicated to exposing anti-LGBT+ hate, racism and misogyny respectively – students have painted a damning picture of what it’s like to be a minority in the Iowa City community school district.
Their accounts reveal racist and homophobic slurs being used with abandon, students being shunned for their sexuality and rampant anti-LGBT+ bullying going unchecked by school authorities.
“Everyday I walk into school feeling like an outcast,” one writes. “I just wish students and at least teachers would see me as a normal human… But no, I can’t get through at least one week without being called a faggot or queer.”
“I had to deal with a lot of violent, homophobic bullying at Northwest Junior High,” says another. “When I was there none of the administration seemed to do anything about that despite witnessing it happen to me and other students.
“[The principal] is completely incompetent when it comes to protecting the kids that are the most vulnerable.”
Another writes simply: “Once, I wore my flag to school, and was told to burn it to the ground. That hurt.”
Black students reported being shown images of lynchings, hearing the N-word and having to endure classmates using Blackface. Multiple girls reported being sexualised, sexually harassed and even raped.
City High freshman Rachel Johnson started the @lgbtaticcsd account after seeing the stories of racism and sexual harassment in the school district on @blackaticcsd and @girlsaticcsd.
Since the account opened on July 22, Johnson and her friends have posted more than 100 stories from LGBT+ students across the district.
The submissions identify a variety of discrimination and bullying LGBT+ students face, but two patterns in particular stood out to her.
“One was just how many people talked about constantly hearing the F-slur and hearing ‘gay’ used as an insult,” Johnson told the Daily Iowan. “Just so many people talked about that and how it was just a normalised thing.”
The other trend she noticed was the name of particular teachers that recurred in multiple stories.
The posts have now gained so much traction they’ve caught the attention of teachers and administrators.
“It just makes your heart hurt for students that have either experienced those things or witnessed those things in our school community,” interim superintendent Matt Degner said.
“That’s definitely not what we want to be about, or the type of or the time of experience and climate we want to have for our students … As a human being and as an educator, I just feel bad and feel that we have a lot of work to do, and we have a lot of improvements to make so that students don’t have that experience in our schools.”