Twitter is set to add the long-sought option to add pronouns to users’ profile pages.
As part of a sprawling design shakeup, the social media platform that boasts some 192 million daily active users will introduce a new ‘About’ tab on accounts.
Alongside options to add their date of birth, job title, current location and interests will be a dedicated section to list their pronouns.
The ‘About’ tab will be to the left of the already existing ‘Tweets’, ‘Tweets & Replies’, ‘Media’ and ‘Likes’, according to mock-ups seen by TechCrunch.
Twitter has not provided a timeline for the slated update, but did say it would be “coming soon”.
“The profile hasn’t been meaningfully updated since 2014, which is a little mind-blowing, considering how much both Twitter and the world have changed since then,” said Andrea Conway, the lead designer on Twitter’s identity and profiles team, in a statement.
“Today, we don’t give people a ton of ways to express themselves and, in turn, we limit the number of signals available to understand the quality of that account and help people determine who and what to trust on Twitter.
“Additionally, from a design perspective, we’re dealing with a serious lack of space on the profile, and we really want to change that.”
Alongside the ‘About’ tab, the company is also taking steps to reopen its public form to request verification, otherwise known as the blue tick, according to a blog post on Twitter’s website posted Thursday (20 May).
While it remains unknown at the time of writing how Twitter will launch the new support for pronouns, Instagram may have supplied a blueprint.
Justin Santiago, 66, the first trans man in Puerto Rico to change his name and gender on his birth certificate, remembers the long-ago incident that led to years of pain he hopes other teens don’t have to endure.
During biology class in the mountain town of Barranquitas, Santiago would sit at his desk, take a wooden pencil, grab a sheet of paper and write love letters to his teacher.
She had a voluptuous body, Santiago recalled, and wore her curly blonde hair tied back. He wrote the letters hoping that one day she would reciprocate his feelings. Every time Santiago wrote a love letter he would leave it in the teacher’s mailbox and hope for the best.
One day, the school counselor asked him to visit her office. She told him that leaving such notes was wrong.
“Because she is my teacher?” Santiago asked.
“No, because she is a woman, like you,” the counselor replied.
“But I’m a man,” said Santiago, then 15 and a trans youth.
The incident led to years of conversion therapy — an unscientific practice that seeks to change people’s sexual orientation and gender identity through psychological techniques, causing guilt and shame.
“They broke me and turned me into a sick person,” Santiago said. The treatment involved prescribing him psychiatric drugs that led to other dependencies, he said, with no one ever held accountable.
On May 6, a Puerto Rico Senate committee killed Senate Bill 184, which would have banned conversion therapies in Puerto Rico. The failure to advance the bill was a blow to LGBTQ advocates like Santiago, who had told his story before the Committee on Community Initiatives, Mental Health and Addiction.
Though former Gov. Ricardo Rosselló had signed a 2019 executive order banning conversion therapies in the U.S. territory, the bill’s sponsors wanted the ban codified into law, to prevent a future anti-LGBTQ+ rights governor from annulling Rosselló’s mandate.
“Don’t hurt your children”
Santiago hopes telling his story serves as a cautionary tale for younger generations. “If my story helps one person not have to experience the torture that I went through, for me that is enough,” he said.
He pleads with parents: “Don’t hurt your children.”
After telling his school counselor that he was a man, Santiago was removed from class and he never saw that teacher again. The counselor called his parents, Jesús and Justina, to inform them about Santiago’s notes. To continue studying there, he had to visit a psychiatric center in Río Piedras in the island’s capital. His parents, a farmer and a housewife, traveled by public transportation for nearly 2 hours to get Santiago to his appointments.
Santiago recalled that he had to sit in a chair in front of the desk of his psychiatrist, who constantly questioned him about his gender identity. She had a cross on her wall and sometimes mentioned God.
“I remember that she asked me if I would ever be happy. And I asked her, are you?” Santiago said.
He insisted that all he wanted was to have surgery to make his body look like he felt — a man. But the psychiatrist emphasized that that was not possible.
“She immediately prescribed drugs,” Santiago said.
When Santiago was 18, the psychiatric center gave him a letter with his dead name (the name he was given at birth) written on the envelope.
“Don’t open it!” the psychiatrist said, telling him it was for his parents. But he ignored her orders and learned he was being diagnosed with schizophrenia and chronic neurosis. The report also mentioned that Santiago “felt no guilt about the damage he was doing to his parents.”
Santiago, who insisted he wasn’t suffering from mental illness, said he and his family never discussed what happened in those sessions. He stopped using the prescribed medications, but said he became an alcoholic.
Miguel Vázquez-Rivera, a psychologist who has served trans, queer and nonbinary communities for over a decade, says that the use of prescribed medications can lead a person to seek ways to relieve pain through other substances, like tobacco and alcohol.
“The psychiatrists constantly told me that I was going to hurt my parents and my family. It caused me to get sick. I never wanted to hurt them,” Santiago said. “The idea of committing suicide was always in my head, but I did not do it, so I wouldn’t hurt my family. That’s why I did not kill myself.”
Santiago doesn’t remember psychiatrists telling him that loving a woman was wrong. But they rejected his gender identity as a trans man.
A right to raise children “according to their convictions”
Conservatives like Sen. Joanne Rodríguez-Veve and Rep. Lissie Burgos-Muñiz, of Proyecto Dignidad (The Dignity Party), a Christian-led party founded in 2019, opposed the bill against conversion therapies. Rodríguez-Veve has argued that “parents have a right to raise their children according to their convictions.”
Rodríguez-Veve, who voted against bringing the bill to the Senate floor, was criticized by LGBTQ activists for repeatedly questioning if the legislation would open the door to allowing minors to undergo hormone-blocking processes without parental consent — which was not the case. Rodríguez-Veve did not respond to requests for comment.
It is not the first time that the island’s Legislature has blocked a bill against conversion therapies. When a version of this year’s bill was introduced in 2019, the House of Representatives’ Legal Committee denied that those practices were carried out on the island. At the time, the body was chaired by Rep. María Milagros Charbonier, who resigned last year after being arrested on federal corruption chargesand has a long history of spearheading anti-LGBTQ measures.
Since the bill was introduced, conservative and religious public officials have argued that conversion therapies do not exist on the island. Vázquez-Rivera, the psychologist, disagrees. Through his practice, he says he’s seen conversion therapy lead to anxiety, depression, drug abuse, maladaptive behaviors and suicide attempts.
Eunice Avilés, a doctor in psychology with 16 years of experience working with trans communities, insisted that conversion therapies are not always called that, making them harder for officials to identify. Sometimes, they are sold under the guise of “religious counseling sessions.”
“When they insist that who you are (your gender identity) and what you feel is wrong, that damages you from the innermost fiber of your body to the outside,” Avilés said. “That is violence.”
Several LGBTQ+ community members who offered their testimony in the public hearings for the bill said they had been exposed to these practices through religious groups.
“Sin is not homosexuality,” Pedro Julio Serrano, a well-known LGBTQ+ activist, said at the public hearings. “Sin is homophobia.”
Serrano urged Santiago to tell his story. He knew that Santiago would not agree to tell his testimony before the commission without the support of his community. Although conversion therapies had been going on in Puerto Rico for years, the issue is now coming to light, and Santiago would finally have the opportunity to tell his story, Serrano said.
Santiago says he had to prepare himself to tell his story in public. Decades have passed since he was put through conversion therapies, but he does not feel like he has healed.
“My parents would have loved me”
Santiago recalled a visit to his father just a few years ago. He told his dad that he never had identified with the name he was given at birth. He told him he planned to change it and call himself Justin Jesús, in honor of his parents.
His father looked at him for a few seconds and, looking concerned, told him it would be difficult to call him Justin Jesús because he would feel like he was talking to someone else.
“You are my father. You can call me whatever you like,” he replied. Santiago asked for his blessing and told him that he loved him. His dad hugged him and said he loved him, too.
“That conversation didn’t last 45 seconds. It took me 62 years to have that conversation with my father,” Santiago said. “This is all those people’s fault. My parents would have loved me.”
When his mother died in 2007, Santiago assumed in full his gender identity, decades after the first time he expressed he was a man. During a nine-month period, he began taking hormones, underwent surgery, and changed his name and gender on legal documents.
“Making history”
In 2018, Judge Carmen Consuelo Cerezo of the U.S. District Court for the District of Puerto Rico declared that the local government’s policy of not allowing trans people to change their birth certificates was unconstitutional.
The timing allowed Santiago to make history as the first trans man to legally change his gender identity in Puerto Rico.
Carmen Padilla, a friend of Santiago for more than 30 years, accompanied him to his double mastectomy. Padilla lived in Boston and came to Puerto Rico for three weeks to help Santiago during the post-operation recovery. “He was prepared for this. I’m very happy that he found himself,” Padilla said.
Serrano, the activist, who has known Santiago for a decade, said that for many years Santiago “manifested himself as a lesbian with masculine experiences,” before being able to affirm his gender identity.
When Santiago began to assume his identity as a trans man, he looked “much happier, more dynamic and more assertive,” Serrano said. After Santiago was administered hormones and had surgery, Serrano said he soon saw the effects — hair growth on Santiago’s chin, changes in his voice and gait, and a masculine haircut.
“He looked empowered. It was a rebirth,” Serrano said. “He recognized that through his experiences he could become a leader in the trans community.”
Santiago is now an icon of activism in the transmasculine community who has blazed paths for other transgender Puerto Ricans. Younger generations affectionately call him “TransPa.”
He and other LGBTQ activists say they will continue to advocate against conversion therapy and push for legislation against it.
As a teenager, Santiago wrote letters to his teacher. Decades later, after his surgery, Santiago wrote a love hymn to himself.
I do not transition; I reaffirm myself from my skin and my own identity
I free myself and vindicate
before an oppressive binary system
that insists on controlling and invalidating my existence
in diversity
His existence, Santiago says, is “a cry of freedom” that he now shares with the world.
Trans and non-binary people experience barriers to accessing cervical screenings due to discrimination, new research has confirmed.
The findings from Jo’s Cervical Cancer Trust, which were published in the British Journal of General Practice on Tuesday (18 May), surveyed 137 trans men and non-binary people about their experiences with cervical screening.
Among the respondents, 47 per cent reported they were eligible for cervical screening – but just over half (58 per cent) of this group had ever been screened for cervical cancer. Only 53 per cent of those eligible felt like they had sufficient information about cervical screening.
According to the research, trans men and non-binary people faced a range of factors impacting their ability and intention to attend cervical screenings. This included female-focused information, not receiving invitations for screenings and being discouraged or turned away from attending cervical screenings. Some participants felt they would not be able to attend the test because of of medical professionals’ lack of expertise in gender dysphoria.
Almost all the participants in the study, which was conducted in partnership with the Gender Identity Clinic at the Tavistock and Portman NHS Foundation Trust, felt that training for healthcare professions would be useful. Participants said this should include LGBT+ awareness training, education on inclusive language and terminology and “reports from those with lived experience of gender diversity”.
The NHS says any person with a cervix between the ages of 25 to 49 should be invited to a cervical screening every three years. All people with a cervix who are registered with a GP and aged 50 to 64 are invited for a cervical screening every five years.
But according to the charity’s report, the NHS cervical screening programme invites only people who are registered as women or female to take part. The researchers said this means trans and non-binary people, who are registered at their GP as male, will usually have to request a test.
Laurie Hodierne, a trans man and doctor, told the BBC that he was re-registered as male by his GP surgery, meaning he could potentially miss out on being flagged for life-saving cervical smear tests.
He said, as a doctor, he understands “how the systems work and the language”, but he still finds it “exhausting” to keep asking for appointments and chase up on results.
“You keep coming up against a brick wall,” Hodierne said. “It’s a healthcare inequality in the sense that you aren’t able to get access to the screening programme in the same way.”
Of the participants in the research, only 61 per cent were aware that being registered with the GP as male meant they are not routinely called for cervical screening appointments.
Rebecca Shoosmith, acting chief executive at Jo’s Cervical Cancer Trust, said in a statement that accessing the live-saving screening can be difficult for many people but especially for trans and non-binary people.
GayCities encourages you to stay safe during the Covid 19 pandemic. If you choose to travel, we recommend that you follow all CDC Travel Guidelines and adhere closely to all local regulations regarding face coverings, social distancing and other safety measures.
The risk of transmitting Covid is known to decrease outdoors. Therefore, planning a trip to a gay campsite is not only one way to get a little closer to nature, but also the possibility of socializing with others a little more safely.
Don’t know where to start? There are dozens of gay campgrounds across North America. Here are just a few recommended ones.
Roseland Resort in West Virginia
Roseland is one of the best-known gay-owned and operated campgrounds in the US. It’s set amongst 222 acres of West Virginia countryside. Besides stunning views, it offers bed and breakfast style cabins and tent sites. There’s also a pool, bar area and the Walnut Tree restaurant. It’s aimed at gay men over the age of 21. It scores highly on Trip Advisor for its clean facilities and friendly staff.
“This place is amazing. Beautiful scenery, great facilities, but most importantly very, very nice people. I can’t stress that enough. Just a lot of fun, easy going energy,” says one reviewer.
One recent visitor praised the local landscape: “One of the most under appreciated aspects of Roseland is how much amazing hiking there is,” said Mike (@thedreamofthenineties)
You’ll find it at 925 Nolte Lane, Proctor WV 26055. It’s quite a drive into West Virginia and the owner do recommend you check the route on Google Maps as some GPS systems don’t track all the small local roads.https://www.instagram.com/p/CCT830NjKdo/embed/?cr=1&v=13&wp=1080&rd=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.gaycities.com&rp=%2Foutthere%2F53815%2F10-best-gay-campsites-us%2F%3Futm_source%3Dqueerty%26utm_medium%3Ddirectlink%26utm_campaign%3Ddirectlink%26utm_content%3D10%2Bof%2Bthe%2Bbest%2Bgay%2Bcampsites%2Bin%2Bthe%2BUS%2Bfor%2Bsummertime%2Bfun#%7B%22ci%22%3A0%2C%22os%22%3A1501%2C%22ls%22%3A1016%2C%22le%22%3A1033%7D
Sawmill Camping Resort, Florida
One of the most highly-rated gay and lesbian camping grounds in the south-east, “where camping meets nightlife.” Sawmill offers it all: Four bars, Woody’s Nightclub, a clothing-optional pool, plus nature trail, lakeside walks (around Ricki Lake!), and local Zip Lines and antique shopping. There’s also a nightly campfire and regular entertainment on the courtyard stage.
“How wonderful is it to find a place where you can go and be you,” said one visitor on TripAdvisor. “Very welcoming and inviting. Along with all the amenities, one could want while camping … Sawmill Campground is truly the best”
You’ll find Sawmill Resort at 21710 US Highway 98, Dade City, FL 33523. You can rent a cabin, or space for your RV or tent. Membership is required, which costs $35 and lasts for 12 months.
Vitambi Springs in Florida
Near the tranquil Lake Vitambi, you’ll find Vitambi Springs at 28280 Etumakee Way, Clewiston, FL 33440. Once again, do check Google Map before setting off on your drive as it’s quite out there in the wilderness! It’s around 90 minutes to Miami, Naples or Fort Lauderdale.
Around two-thirds of this huge site are clothing optional. It offers a range of accommodation, including inn room, private cabins, military barracks, plus space for RVs and tents. There’s a pool, a lakeside dock with canoes, a bar, gym, café, ‘Big Oak Lodge’ and plenty of wild deer wandering around. There’s also a regular calendar of event, such as Bad Bear weekend.
Nestled in a hidden valley of the Superstition Mountains, it offers bed and breakfast accommodation along with camping facilities. Amenities include a hot tub and pool, BYOB Saloon, full food menu, karaoke, community fire pit and 40 acres of trails. It’s also clothing optional!
Local attractions include the Tonto National Forest, Hike Peralta Trails and the town of Superior.
There’s also an airport shuttle service if you’re flying not driving to the resort. It hosts regular events, such as its upcoming Wellness Weekend and Drum Circle on May 14, and ‘Cowboy Fling’ weekend.
“You get to meet new people and everyone is so nice and very welcoming!” one customer, Cesar Alonso Borey, told GayCities. “They don’t treat you like a stranger even if it’s your first time there. Uncle Bobby and Rich always do their best to make you feel very comfortable! You get to really talk to people like we used to! A totally wonderful, relaxing, fun experience!”
Copper Cactus Ranch Men’s Retreat, 4516 North Elephant Butte Road, Queen Valley,
Campit Resort in Michigan
Campit Resort bills itself as an “affordable getaway and vacation destination” for the LGBTQ community, their friend and allies. “We are all affirming, with a reputation as a very friendly, welcoming and safe place to relax and play.”
It offers 33 acres to explore and roam, ten minutes from the towns of Saugatuk and Douglas. The Lake Michigan beaches are also not far away.
Besides space for tent and RV’s, there are also 22 log cabin which can be rented, plus a five-bedroom bunkhouse. It also offer a clubhouse with regular entertainment, swimming pool and nature trails. Themed weekends are aimed at both gay men and lesbians.
Someone who’d visited several times told GayCities he liked it for its range of sleeping options, while nearby Saugautuk is also very gay-friendly and offers a number of cider mills, breweries and a winery to visit.
Campit Outdoor Resort is at 6635 118th Ave, Fennville, MI 49408.
The Woods Camping Resort in Pennsylvania
Nestled in the Pocono Mountains, and open since 2004, the Woods Camping Resort in Lehighton, Pennsylvania, is another of the country’s best LGBTQ camping grounds. It’s set amidst 161 private acres with its own streams and four-acre lake.
You’ll find it open between May and October, with a whole calendar of events to explore and activities such as yoga and volleyball. In addition to plenty of space to rent for tents and RVs, it offers 30 cabins and three resort homes.
Events include an annual bears gathering, leather/country weekend, and Christmas in July weekend, among many others. To make a reservation, you’ll need to take out a membership.
The resort’s ethos is simple: less digital interaction and more real-life interaction!
“In an era when old methods of meeting people have dwindled, The Woods has risen.
“At The Woods, you are among like-minded people in an inviting atmosphere which encourages face-to-face interaction. You can choose from a variety of activities and places where you’ll be among real live people! Talking, laughing, dancing and yes, cruising if you so choose.”
The inclusive resort welcomes everyone from the LGBTQ spectrum: “The only people not allowed at The Woods are bullies, racists, fighters, immature jerks and those who get overly intoxicated.”
The Woods Camping Resort, 3500 Forest Street, Lehighton, PA 18235.
Triangle Recreation Camp in Washington
Triangle Recreation Camp (47715 Mountain Loop Highway, Granite Falls, WA 98252) in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains, 21 miles east of Granite Falls, has a history dating back to 1975.
Situated in a beautiful, extremely rural part of the country, this clothing-optional site tends to pull in visitors from Washington, Oregon, British Columbia, as well a further afield.
It is regarded as the premier “recreational campground that is Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer owned and operated” in the northwest of the US. It’s open from mid-April to October, and offers 80 acres to set up your tent or RV.
There’s stunning scenery to enjoy, including a local waterfall, beach and forests dominated by huge, centuries-old trees.
Freedom Valley in Ohio
Freedom Valley is an acclaimed camping ground in Ohio, about 57 miles from both Akron and Cleveland.
It offers a large bunkhouse, a handful of cabins and trailers, plus plenty of space for tents amongst its flowery meadows. It is aimed at “all Men of all backgrounds, sizes, and ages (over 21).” It offers a pool, firepit, plus several themed weekends throughout its summer season.
In 2017, respondents to a survey in the South Florida Gay News voted Freedom Valley their second favorite campground in the US (behind Sawmill). It’s been praised for its appearance, accommodations and community atmosphere. You’ll find it at 1875 U.S. 250 South, New London, OH 44851.
Jones Pond in New York
Jones Pond in Angelica, NY, has a history as a gay camping ground going back to 1991. You can choose from a bunkhouse or cabin, while there’s an expansive area to rent space for a tent or RV (175 camping sites!).
An all-day cafe takes care of all your food needs, while there’s over 100 acres of rural, Western New York State to explore.
Aimed at men aged over 21, it’s clothing optional around the pool area. Like the other sites mentioned here, there are plenty of themed weekends throughout the summer, like an annual Pride weekend celebration and Cowboy Weekend.
Jones Pond camp site is at 9835 Old State Road, Angelica, NY 14709.
Camp Camp in Maine
Camp Camp is not a camping ground but a big, annual LGBTQ camping event that takes place every August in southwestern Maine (45 miles west of Portland, Maine).
It’s been running for over 25 years and routinely attracts around 200 attendees.
Activities include everything from hiking, zip-lining, rock wall climbing, and canoeing to pottery and stained glass workshops. You sleep in bunk beds in cabins named after LGBTQ icon like Ellen DeGeneres, Harvey Milk and Oscar Wilde.
The organizers say that around 75% of those who attend return for at least a second visit: a testimony to the unique and special atmosphere fostered by this inclusive event.
After a doctor’s visit, three court appearances, five trips to the bank and having her name and address published in a newspaper, Billie Simmons finally got a debit card with her chosen name.
As a transgender woman, that meant she didn’t run the risk of outing herself every time she used her card for routine expenses like buying groceries.
The legal process to change her name and her gender on identity documents took several weeks. Yet four years on, Simmons still receives her monthly credit report in an email addressed to her dead name.
She hasn’t been able to change her online banking username and her credit score is incomplete, only reflecting transactions made after she legally changed her name.
“It’s a constant emotional reminder that the system will always see me as the person I used to be and it won’t let me move on with my life,” the 27-year-old said.
“On tough days that’s a really hard thing to grapple with. These banking systems are not designed for us.”
Hoping to address some of these issues, Simmons has co-founded Daylight, an online banking provider focused on the LGBTQ community that is set to launch this summer.
Among its features, it allows users to set up an account online with their chosen name, regardless of what appears on their ID documents, and receive financial coaching focused on goals common among many LGBTQ consumers, such as saving for surrogacy or adoption.
Daylight estimates there are 30 million Americans who identify as LGBTQ. It is among a cohort of new digital banks in the United States targeting communities where many people say their needs have not been met by mainstream lenders.
Such startups include First Boulevard and Greenwood, both focused on serving Black Americans, Cheese Financial aimed at the Asian community and Majority serving immigrant groups.
“Historically, community banks have focused on cheaper customer acquisition by focusing on an underserved geography,” said Ian Kar, founder and CEO of research firm Fintech Today.
“The internet removes geographical restrictions. Developing banking services around people’s identity, like race and sexual orientation, is a modern approach.”
Digital banking startups that target specific demographics raised a collective $318 million from investors in 2020, according to data provider CB Insights.
They’ve raised $86 million in eight deals in 2021, including a $40 million cash injection for Greenwood from U.S. financial institutions including Truist Financial Corp, JPMorgan Chase & Co and Bank of America Corp.
Yet such startups are entering an increasingly crowded market for digital banking, where many rivals offer similar basic services and pricing, like no monthly fees, overdraft fees or minimum balance.
They’re betting their branding and tailored offerings for their target groups will trump the wider range of services offered by big banks. Yet they may need to swiftly expand their customer bases to challenge larger lenders who enjoy scale and cheaper sources of capital, according to some industry experts.
Yawning wealth gap
Kansas City-based First Boulevard, founded in the wake of George Floyd’s murder last year, says it aims to help customers build wealth and reinvest in the Black community.
The inequality in the United States is stark: the average wealth of Black families is $24,100 – less than 15% that of white families, at $142,500, according to Federal Reserve data.
Just 6% of Black business owners surveyed in 2020 by the Association for Enterprise Opportunity said their primary source of credit came from banks, versus 23% for all businesses. When approved, the median loan amount for Black business owners was less than half of the loan amounts extended to white peers, according to the survey.
“We are one of the only communities in the world that were considered property when our financial system was built,” said Donald Hawkins, First Boulevard’s CEO.
Among its offerings, First Boulevard is building a marketplace which gives users cash back for buying at Black-owned businesses.
Prentiss Earl, a teacher and entrepreneur in Kansas City, said he’d never felt comfortable asking his mainstream bank for financial advice, but would at a lender like First Boulevard.
“I want to feel I sense that my money is going to business ventures and people who look like me,” Earl said.
First Boulevard is launching on Juneteenth – an annual holiday on June 19 commemorating the abolition of slavery in the United States – and says it has a waiting list of 200,000 users.
It recently raised $5 million in seed funding from backers including UK banking giant Barclays Plc and fintech investment firm Anthemis Group.
“If you see more attention to this segment it is because it has been lacking for so long,” said Amy Nauiokas, founder and CEO of Anthemis, referring to minority groups.
‘It’s intimidating’
Given the challenges facing such entrants into the competitive digital banking market, success could hinge on how quickly they can grow their customer base by building a brand that resonates as authentic with the communities they aim to serve, according to analysts.
“You could make a mistake very easily as you will never appeal to every single person in that community. It’s a community but not everyone is a carbon copy,” said Sarah Kocianski, head of research at fintech consultancy 11:FS.
Houston and Stockholm-based Majority provides banking services to immigrants in the United States, a diverse group spanning multiple nationalities, cultures and languages, and says it signed up 5,000 subscribers in its first 3 months since launching.
The company began by offering financial services to the Nigerian community in Houston, later expanding to Cubans in Miami. It now plans to target immigrants from Ghana, Kenya and Ethiopia in Washington DC. It hires employees from the same communities who can act as local advisers.
CEO Magnus Larsson said many migrants go to physical stores in their communities to access basic financial services.
“Why do people go there when it’s expensive? Because of the cultural context,” he added. “They are uncomfortable or not feeling welcome (in mainstream banking). It’s intimidating.”
Financial access
For some people, specialized banks can be crucial, according to Ken Lian, who lacked a credit profile and struggled to open a checking account after he moved to the United States from China in 2008. He ended up paying more than $1,000 in various fees like ATM withdrawals and overdrafts.
He now has a 800 FICO credit score, which is considered above average, but says he can still get rejected by mainstream banks because of his relatively new status in the country.
This year Lian co-founded Cheese Financial, a digital banking service for the 21 million Asian Americans.
Tailored to be accessible for customers with no credit history, the company is also working on being able to take on new customers without requiring a social security number.
It offers 10% cash back at more than 10,000 stores and Asian-owned businesses and has pledged to donate $10 for each new user to a non-profit organization focused on helping the community.
“Given the current environment the Asian community is facing, we built Cheese as a new banking platform with a social cause,” Lian said, referring in part to a spike in attacks on Asian Americans over the past year.
May 17 is the International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia, Biphobia and Intersexphobia (IDAHOBIT). Along with Pride month, it is a time when the global spotlight shines on LGBTIQ equality. Every year we need that spotlight, because, while progress has been inspiring in recent decades, the levels of exclusion, discrimination, harassment and violence LGBTIQ communities around the world continue to face every day are harrowing. Over the last year and a half they have only been amplified by the pandemic.
In recent weeks we hear more and more about increasing COVID-19 vaccine access in the USA, in the U.K., and elsewhere. We hear about restrictions easing, and about life going back to a semblance of normalcy. What we hear less about are the countries where vaccines are a long way from being available, and the people being left behind from recovery efforts. Among them, LGBTIQ people.
So on this IDAHOBIT, I want the spotlight to shine on that.
Vulnerable communities are always more deeply affected in times of crisis. In the U.S., Black and Latinx people continue to become infected and die from COVID-19 at much higher ratesthan white people. The United Nations highlights that millions more women worldwide have lost jobs in the pandemic and have had to bear more of the burden of caring for children and elderly family members.
For LGBTIQ people, the marginalization that we experience on a day-to-day basis was amplified during the pandemic. Due to overrepresentation in informal sector jobs caused by employment discrimination, LGBTIQ people experienced a devastation of livelihoods. Loss of homes and an inability to leave resulted in higher rates of domestic violence. We’ve experienced amplified challenges accessing health care, and increasing mental health issues due to separation from communities. Moreover, LGBTIQ people, as in other crises, have been blamed and scapegoated for the COVID-19 pandemic, further amplifying already prevalent levels of LGBTIQ-phobia around the world.
Compounding that even further is the fact that humanitarian responses often exclude LGBTIQ people by using narrow definitions of family, binary definitions of gender, unsafe locations, or biased staff for emergency interventions.
In April 2020, OutRight launched a COVID emergency fund to support LGBTIQ communities around the world. Reflecting the ongoing crisis the LGBTIQ community is facing, the latest call for applications, launched last month, received 1,500 applications from 111 countries, totaling $26 million in need. Applications highlighted a deepening crisis as LGBTIQ people continue to be out of jobs, continue to have to live with abusive family members, and face challenges accessing life-saving care for HIV, gender affirming treatment, or, indeed COVID-19. One applicant highlighted a dramatic loss of funding as a result of which they are on the brink of shutting several community centers providing crucial services to the community. Another highlights an exponential growth in calls for help to their hotline, with most callers asking support for shelter and food, as well as psychological support due to abuse and violence in the home.
At the same time, while vaccines have become widely available across North America and Europe, the same is not true for the majority of the world. This vaccine tracker shows less than one dose administered per 100 people across Africa, one to two in parts of the Middle East and Southeast Asia. The picture looks more hopeful in Latin America, with over 80 people out of a 100 having received a dose in Chile, and just over 20 in Brazil.
What does this mean? That most people in the world have not reached the end of the pandemic. And, as the Global South has more of the world’s population and more of the world’s laws criminalizing same-sex relations, the majority of LGBTIQ people in the world will continue to be in a crisis within a crisis, feeling amplified effects. Experience also shows that when recovery efforts do take on more speed, LGBTIQ people will not be among the first to feel the effects — they will be among the last.
Days like IDAHOBIT are a time for reflection. A pandemic hurts every one of us. It cannot be overcome unless everyone is included in the recovery effort. These days can also be a time to honor interdependence, and to recognize that we are stronger together. At this moment in the pandemic, LGBTIQ people, other marginalized communities, and people across the Global South are being forgotten. Until everyone is included normalcy will not return, the pandemic will continue to evolve, and we will continue to be at risk.
Maria Sjödinm is Deputy Executive Director, OutRight Action International.
I’ve been teaching at a New York City college for almost five years, and I’m still in touch with a number of my former students. Many reach out for career advice, or help on getting a job, or wanting a letter of recommendation, and I’m always happy to oblige.
However, I was caught off guard recently when a former student told me that he decided not to get the COVID-19 vaccine. This person reads my column and knows that I’ve written a lot about the pandemic during the last year, including speaking to a number of medical experts including Dr. Fauci, Dr. Mike Osterholm and science writer Laurie Garrett. The student assumed that I was the closest thing to an “expert” that they could find, and I sensed he was challenging me about his decision.
My immediate answer was, “Get the damn vaccine!” The student did not respond to my strong command, and I’m worried that I might have missed an opportunity to convince him otherwise?
I’m wondering if many of us have friends, relatives or even partners who are hesitant to get the vaccine, and when confronted with that uncertainty, are we left trying to figure out how to provide the right response?
Vaccine rates have started to fall precipitously, with the pace of daily inoculations falling 35 percent from their highest levels just a couple of weeks ago. Some still lack access to the vaccine, others have just not got around to getting one, and many are either still wavering or adamantly saying it’s not for me. And many are confused, afraid or feel slighted.
The New York Timesreported this week about LGBTQ+ people feeling invisibile with regard to how COVID data is accrued.
The Times also said, “Communities of color and other marginalized groups have faced some of the most severe coronavirus outcomes, yet have received a smaller share of vaccines. L.G.B.T.Q. people could face similar problems but may be overlooked because they aren’t counted.”
The vaccine debate is likely to be raging for the next few months. President Biden is determined to have 70 percent of Americans vaccinated by July 4. The argument seems to be, unfortunately, a political one. Nearly 60 percent of U.S. adults have now received at least one shot, according to a recent poll, but a whopping 45 percent of Republicans say they did not plan to get vaccinated, while two-thirds of Democrats have already been vaccinated.
Why is there so much hesitancy and controversy around these life-saving and life-alerting vaccines? Is the Biden administration doing enough to convince wavering Americans to get vaccinated? And how do you go about changing the mind of someone you know who is opposed to getting the shot?
I reached out to out ABC News Medical Contributor Dr. Darien Sutton for some help getting answers to these questions. First, why all the debate and why all the waffling?
“Throughout the pandemic, there has been a consistent environment of fear and misinformation, instigated from the previous administration, and it all started at the beginning when people often felt there were too many mixed messages and too many signals. Eventually it became more and more difficult to make decisions about how to deal with the virus,” Dr. Sutton explained.
“With the change in administrations in January, we have been given more straightforward information and more relevant data that has helped unionize the message. So, while things have changed, it doesn’t negate where we started. All the confusion created a lot of deliberation, and increased deliberation time periods, and this has resulted in a more elongated and difficult process about whether or not to get the vaccine.”
The Biden administration has been more honest and upfront, but will they be able to sell the vaccine across party lines across the country? Right now, it seems the message is that you can get back to normal sooner if you just get these shots?
“Yes, you can tell patients what they can do with the vaccine versus what they cannot do,” Sutton said. “However, I think patients want to hear answers to questions about what’s in it for them. Specifically, how does it benefit them in their personal lives? I think people don’t care as much about going to the movies again, for example, versus getting assurance that the vaccine is safe, effective and useful.”
Is that the answer then to the quandary about trying to convince someone to get the vaccine? Push its safety and effectiveness? “I think it’s important to listen and ‘ask’ the undecided first what is the basis of their concern,” Sutton believes. “Is it fear? Is it fear of reaction? Is it fear of getting sick and not having health care to get treatment.”
After you’ve heard out the person’s concerns, Dr. Sutton said the next thing you should do is “tell.” “You need to tell the person that the vaccine has been proven to be effective, protective, and it prevents person to person transmission, so there’s less chance to spread the virus, and as such it will keep you, and your loved ones, out of hospital and not cause financial burdens. After that, you need to just give the person space to think about their decision.”
I told Dr. Sutton about my former student, who is Black, and that it seems tricky to push him on something he seems sensitive about. “I’m having the same issue with my own family,” he revealed. “I come from a large Black family that remains hesitant and was raised in an environment where medicine is not trustworthy.”
“Historically, you have instances like the Tuskegee experiment for example, or in Puerto Rico with women and birth control, where minorities and poorer communities were used as guinea pigs. Many Black families and people of color feel they were used for research that benefited privileged white communities, so there’s a whole history there that has resulted in disinclination and unwillingness.”
On top of all this hesitation, understandable in some circumstances, comes the news that a booster shot might be required later this year or early next. Did Dr. Sutton feel that was the case? That we would all have to queue up again for another round of shots?
“It’s hard to say. We’re still closely following the efficacy rates and ranges of the first vaccines. What we’re seeing is that it has been effective in bolstering the immune system, and we’re hopeful that it will remain durable and long lasting and protect against other variants.”
Sutton theorized that the COVID-19 vaccine might be what’s referred to as a repetitive vaccine, similar to the annual flu shot that most of us get each fall and winter.
Finally, the CDC has said that Americans could be almost back to normal by this summer, July specifically. Did Sutton concur with that optimistic outlook? “Yes,” he quickly agreed. “People ask me all the time if we will have to go into lockdown again, and I don’t think that will happen.”
“We have done a great job of vaccinating those 65 and over, and others who were more susceptible to the disease. And we’ll ramp up vaccinations for teens and children in the next few weeks. As we know, young people were commonly asymptomatic transmitters of the virus, so as they get vaccinated, we’ll see further reductions in transmissions. All of this means that we will decrease the chances of our hospitals being overrun again, and that most of us will start to resume a normal way of life.”
Lego is kicking off LGBTQ Pride month, which is celebrated every June, a little early this year. The toy company announced it’s releasing a special set, called “Everyone is Awesome,” that celebrates the diversity of its fans.
This is the first time in Lego’s 72-year history that it is releasing an official LGBTQ Pride set.
“I wanted to create a model that symbolizes inclusivity and celebrates everyone, no matter how they identify or who they love,” Matthew Ashton, Lego’s vice president of design, said in a press release.
“Everyone is unique, and with a little more love, acceptance and understanding in the world, we can all feel more free to be our true awesome selves!,” Ashton added. “This model shows that we care, and that we truly believe ‘Everyone is awesome!’”
According to the company, the buildable model is inspired by the Pride flag and features 11 monochrome mini-figures, each with its own fabulous flare, unique hairstyle and rainbow color.
The colors include the classic rainbow seen on the Pride flag designed by Gilbert Baker in 1978. In addition, the “Everyone Is Awesome” set also includes the transgender pride flag colors of pink, baby blue and white, as well as black and brown stripes that were added to the Pride flag flown in Philadelphia back in 2017.
The model includes 346 pieces and goes on sale June 1 to mark the start of LGBTQ Pride month. It retails for $34.99.
Thomas Hardin, a 35-year-old trans woman, was murdered this month in a brutal killing spree across two US states.
Hardin, described by those who knew her as an affable wisecracker, was killed at her home in York, South Carolina on 2 May. Local officials have not confirmed a cause of death, but witnesses say she was shot.
It’s believed that she was killed by a man she had been romantically involved with, and who is also accused of shooting two other people that same day.
The suspect, Tyler Terry, has been linked to killings across both South Carolina and in St Louis, Missouri. The pair, friends and neighbours claimed, and “had a falling out” after Hardin asked Perry to move out.
A woman named Adrienne Simpson has also been charged in the murder of one of the victims – her own husband, Eugene Simpson.
An arrest warrant alleged she and Terry shot Eugene that night and dumped his body on Stroad Road, with the pair compared to Bonnie and Clyde by investigators, WSNC said.
Police tracked the pair down at a Bojangles restaurant parking lot in Richburg, South Carolina, on 17 May only for a high-speed chase to ensue.
Shots were fired by Terry at Chest County deputies during the chase, denting multiple police vehicles.
Simpson was arrested that night after crashing the car along Highway Nine, having since been charged with accessory, but Terry fled from the scene.
But following a sprawling, days-long search effort which saw the FBI assist, the Chester County Sheriff’s Office confirmed Monday (24 May) that “Terry is in custody”.
“No shots were fired by any party,” it wrote. “Everyone (including Terry) is safe.”
What happened to Thomas Hardin?
At around 8:40pm, York Police officers arrived at Hardin’s home along Lowry Road for a wellbeing check after concerned friends had not heard from her for nearly a day.
Hardin’s vehicle was parked outside the home and the door was ajar, police said.
“It wasn’t normal,” Hardin’s friend, Chimere Hicks, told WIS 10 News. “We knew something was wrong then and we [she and Hardin’s cousin] both started crying.
“I think the police made a comment like, ‘oh my gosh’, when he went in. And we knew then.”
“He had put Tyler out of his house months ago,” Hicks added.
“He was giving him a place to stay because he didn’t have anywhere to live. And it just wasn’t working out and so he put him out.
“He [Terry] would always send him [Hardin] threatening messages, calling him names, just doing a lot of things to him.
“I just kept telling Thomas it’s not safe. You know you come home at night. But he always said no I’m not scared of him.”
Loved ones and law enforcement said that Hardin used both she/her and he/him pronouns. “He would say he or she,” Hicks said.
“Thomas didn’t care. When I’m talking to him, sometimes I’m saying he, sometimes I’m saying she. He did not care.”
Hardin’s tragic and turbulent death brings with it for many activists a disturbing sense of familiarity.
Following an already record-breaking 2020, this year has seen an alarming surge in transphobic violence and killings that put 2021 on pace to become the most deadly year yet for trans folk, activists warn.
According to the Human Rights Campaign, which closely tracks the wave of brutality, this year has seen “at least” 26 trans, non-binary and gender non-conforming people killed – not counting Hardin.
The spate of violence, it says, is no doubt even higher considering that misgendering and deadnaming remains rife in police and press reports.
Video-sharing social networking app TikTok’s algorithm is spreading anti-LGBT+ content, according to an analysis by watchdog Media Matters.
The report, published on Tuesday (18 May), found TikTok’s recommendation algorithm – which determines the videos that appear on a user’s page – is promoting content that encourages violence against the LGBT+ community.
According to the TikTok website, the ‘For You’ feed reflects the “preferences unique to each user”. As such, the recommendation system will suggest content based on several factors including what videos a person likes or shares, accounts followed, comments, information in the videos and account settings.
But Media Matters found that liking even one anti-LGBT+ video can lead to a barrage of other homophobic content being added to an user’s ‘For You’ page. The watchdog tested this by clicking “like” on one anti-LGBT+ video. It said TikTok “almost instantly began recommending more”.
The report added: “As we liked similar videos, the ‘For You’ page became progressively tailored to almost exclusively anti-LGBTQ content. In each case, this content was placed on the ‘For You’ page and required no additional searching.”
Media Matters said the videos which TikTok recommended encouraged violence against LGBT+ people, celebrated homophobia and even encouraged destroying the Pride flag.
In one video recommended to Media Matters, a TikTok user encouraged physical violence against trans masculine people. The video featured two animated people fighting with the caption: “Me when I see a Lgbtq Transboy.” One person commented on the video that it was “top tier content” while another said they “did that to someone” in real life.
Media Matters said it also was recommended several videos which encouraged users to burn the LGBT+ Pride flag. The watchdog said many of the videos had “tens of thousands of likes”.
A spokesperson for TikTok told PinkNews: “TikTok is committed to supporting and uplifting LGBTQ+ voices, and we work to create a welcoming community environment by removing anti-LGBTQ+ videos and accounts that attempt to spread hateful ideas on our platform.”
TikTok does remove accounts and videos that violate its community guidelines against hateful behaviour. This includes any content that “attacks, threatens, incites violence against or otherwise dehumanises an individual or a group” on the basis of protected attributes including race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identity or disability.
This isn’t the first time that TikTok has come under fire for promoting controversial content. The app has a pervasive “super straight” community that claims that refusing to date trans people is a sexual orientation. The rancorous term has also spread to other social media platforms.
LGBT+ media advocacy organisation GLAAD recently released a report which found TikTok, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and YouTube are all “categorically unsafe” for LGBT+ people. GLAAD found every single platform is failing to protect LGBT+ users from being harassed and threatened online, and it warned that this was bleeding into the real world.