Tag: political activism Page 1 of 2

When Pride Stopped Protesting

On June 21, 2026

A split-scene illustration contrasts an early LGBTQ+ protest march filled with activists carrying liberation signs and demanding equal rights against a modern Pride parade featuring rainbow flags, corporate sponsorships, and celebratory crowds, highlighting the movement’s evolution from political resistance to mainstream cultural celebration while emphasizing the continuing struggle for transgender equality. (Image generated by ChatGPT using DALL·E, 2026.)

Every June, millions of people gather for Pride celebrations across the United States. Streets are filled with rainbow flags, corporate logos, political candidates, and festival-like atmospheres. For many participants, Pride is a joyful affirmation of LGBTQ+ identity and a celebration of the progress that has been achieved over the past half century.

Yet Pride was not created as a celebration.

Pride was born from protest.

The first Pride marches emerged in the aftermath of the Stonewall uprising of 1969, when LGBTQ+ people fought back against routine police harassment and discrimination. Early Pride events were acts of political resistance. Participants marched because they faced criminalization, employment discrimination, housing discrimination, family rejection, and social exclusion. Pride was a demand for change, not a celebration of acceptance (TIME, 2020).

Over time, however, Pride changed.

By the late 1990s and early 2000s, LGBTQ+ organizations were increasingly integrated into mainstream political and corporate institutions. Large corporations began sponsoring Pride events. Politicians who once avoided association with LGBTQ+ causes now sought visibility in Pride parades. Pride organizations became larger, more professionalized, and increasingly dependent upon corporate sponsorship and institutional partnerships.

This transformation brought benefits. Greater visibility helped normalize LGBTQ+ identities, and corporate sponsorships provided resources that allowed Pride events to grow dramatically. Yet there was also a cost.

As Pride became more institutionalized, its activist character began to fade. Events that once centered political demands increasingly emphasized entertainment, marketing, and celebration. What had begun as a protest movement gradually evolved into a cultural festival. Many activists have argued that the commercialization of Pride diluted its political message and encouraged the public to believe that the struggle for LGBTQ+ equality had largely been won (Cornell University, 2022).

That perception grew even stronger after marriage equality became law nationwide. For many Americans, the legalization of same-sex marriage represented the culmination of the modern LGBTQ+ civil rights movement. The dominant narrative became one of victory rather than continued struggle.

But for many transgender people, the struggle was far from over.

The tensions between mainstream LGBTQ+ organizations and transgender activists became particularly visible during the debate surrounding the Employment Non-Discrimination Act (ENDA). Throughout the 1990s and 2000s, transgender activists fought for legislation that would prohibit workplace discrimination based on both sexual orientation and gender identity. However, many political leaders and advocacy organizations believed that including gender identity protections would make the legislation more difficult to pass.

In 2007, a version of ENDA was advanced that prohibited discrimination based on sexual orientation but excluded gender identity protections. Supporters of the strategy argued that political realities required compromise. They believed Congress was not prepared to pass a fully inclusive bill and that securing protections for gay, lesbian, and bisexual workers was better than securing no protections at all (Washington Blade, 2017; HRC, 2007).

For many transgender activists, however, this was not a strategic compromise. It was a betrayal.

The message they received was that transgender equality could be postponed because it was politically inconvenient. As a result, transgender activists increasingly relied upon their own organizations and advocacy networks rather than established LGBTQ+ institutions. These groups spent years educating the public, documenting discrimination, challenging exclusionary policies, and building a movement focused specifically on transgender rights.

Over the following decade, public awareness of transgender people increased dramatically. Media coverage expanded. Public opinion shifted. Gender identity became a more visible topic in American political discourse. As transgender rights gained national attention, major LGBTQ+ organizations—including the Human Rights Campaign—became increasingly active advocates for transgender equality.

Many welcomed this support. Additional resources and national visibility strengthened the fight against discrimination. Yet for some transgender activists, the shift was difficult to forget.

From their perspective, transgender organizations had spent years fighting battles that larger LGBTQ+ organizations had either ignored or treated as secondary concerns. Only after transgender rights became more politically visible and socially recognized did many of those larger organizations fully embrace transgender advocacy. The criticism was not that these organizations eventually supported transgender rights. The criticism was that they had not shown the same commitment when doing so carried greater political risk.

This history reflects a broader problem within modern Pride and LGBTQ+ politics. As movements become institutionalized, they often shift from challenging power to managing relationships with power. Organizations become concerned with political access, public relations, donor relationships, and legislative strategy. The result can be a form of respectability politics that prioritizes achievable victories while leaving more controversial or vulnerable communities behind.

Today, transgender people remain the primary targets of legislative attacks on LGBTQ+ rights in the United States. Hundreds of bills have been introduced in recent years targeting transgender healthcare, participation in public life, and legal recognition (Human Rights Campaign, 2026). Yet many Pride events continue to project an image of completed victory rather than ongoing struggle.

Celebration has an important place. LGBTQ+ people deserve joy. They deserve visibility. They deserve to recognize how far the movement has come.

But Pride should never forget why it exists.

Pride was created because LGBTQ+ people were denied equal rights. It was created because marginalized communities demanded justice from institutions that refused to recognize their humanity. If Pride becomes only a celebration, it risks forgetting the very activism that made those celebrations possible.

The history of transgender activism during the ENDA era serves as a reminder that progress is rarely as complete as it appears. Rights can be delayed. Communities can be sidelined. Movements can become comfortable.

The challenge for Pride today is not whether it should celebrate victories.

The challenge is whether it still remembers how to fight.

References

Cornell University. (2022, June 15). Is Pride too commercialized? https://lgbt.cornell.edu/news/pride-too-commercialized-0

Human Rights Campaign. (2007, November 7). U.S. House takes historic step by passing the Employment Non-Discrimination Act. https://www.hrc.org/press-releases/u-s-house-takes-historic-step-by-passing-the-employment-non-discrimination

Human Rights Campaign. (2026). Fighting anti-trans politics. https://www.hrc.org/our-work/stories/fighting-anti-trans-politics

TIME. (2020, June 18). What’s changed—and what hasn’t—in 50 years of Pride parades. https://time.com/5858086/pride-parades-history/

Washington Blade. (2017, November 6). 10 years later, firestorm over gay-only ENDA vote still remembered. https://www.washingtonblade.com/2017/11/06/10-years-later-firestorm-over-gay-only-enda-vote-still-remembered/

From Liberation to Sanitation: How Corporate Pride Stripped the Parade of Its Sexual Soul

By Katherine Walter

On July 7, 2025

In LGBTQ+ activism

Participants march in the 53rd annual Chicago Pride Parade on June 30, 2024, in Chicago, Illinois. (Photo by KAMIL KRZACZYNSKI / AFP) (Photo by KAMIL KRZACZYNSKI/AFP via Getty Images)

The Chicago Pride Parade has undergone a dramatic transformation since its early days, shifting from a jubilant, sexually expressive act of defiance into a carefully curated and often sanitized celebration. What was once a radical protest against heteronormativity and state control has become, in many ways, a corporatized festival designed for comfort rather than confrontation. I witnessed this difference firsthand. In 1996, I marched in the Chicago Pride Parade representing Northern Illinois University’s LGBTQ student group. We carried signs demanding queer liberation, chanted with raised fists, and celebrated our bodies and desires publicly, unapologetically. That experience was one of joy, solidarity, and sexual freedom—a moment when Pride was still very much about disrupting societal norms, not being absorbed into them.

Back then, Pride was deeply rooted in the spirit of the Stonewall Riots, which were themselves an uprising against police brutality and sexual repression. The early parades were messy, loud, and intentionally provocative. The presence of leather dykes, drag queens, trans sex workers, and bare-chested men wasn’t seen as a liability to be managed but as a central part of the protest. The parade was a place where queer people could publicly celebrate their sexualities, assert their right to pleasure, and reject the shame imposed by religious institutions, the state, and the medical establishment. As Gayle Rubin (1984) argues in Thinking Sex, sexuality is a frequent site of oppression, and its liberation is integral to broader social justice.

In recent decades, however, the increasing influence of corporate sponsorship and political interests has dulled the parade’s revolutionary edge. Corporate logos now dominate floats where once activists had marched. Politicians use the parade for photo opportunities rather than advocacy. In 2017, members of Black Lives Matter were briefly detained for disrupting the Chicago parade to protest police presence—an incident that underscores how the parade now often serves authority rather than challenges it (Bridges, 2017). These developments reflect a broader trend in which the politics of Pride have been defanged in order to be palatable to mainstream audiences.

As corporate sponsors and city officials pushed to make Pride “family-friendly,” explicit expressions of sexuality became increasingly discouraged. Kink communities, once a visible part of the parade, have been pressured to tone down their presence. Nude or partially clothed participants are often now treated as potential public relations liabilities rather than as rightful members of the LGBTQ spectrum. This retreat from sexual expression is not benign. It represents a fundamental misunderstanding of what queerness means and why visibility matters. As Sarah Schulman (2012) notes in The Gentrification of the Mind, the loss of sexual politics from queer spaces is not accidental but a consequence of neoliberal attempts to assimilate LGBTQ people into systems that continue to marginalize them.

Moreover, this sanitization undermines the very people whose liberation Pride was supposed to champion. Trans people, sex workers, people living with HIV, and those engaged in non-normative sexual practices have seen their visibility diminish just as the broader LGBTQ movement claims “inclusion.” According to Ritchie and Mogul (2007), this erasure aligns with a carceral and assimilationist approach to queer politics—one that values respectability over radicalism and marginalizes those who don’t conform. What was once a space to celebrate and politicize sex has been repackaged into a space where sexuality must be discreet, marketable, and inoffensive.

The shift is especially devastating for younger queer people, who now encounter a version of Pride that often leaves out the sexual energy that was once central to our movement. In Gay Shame, Halperin and Traub (2009) explore how the repression of queer sexuality under the guise of “progress” leads not to freedom, but to a new form of policing—this time from within the community. When Pride becomes merely a parade of sanitized slogans and rainbow logos, we lose not only our history but our future.

The LGBTQ movement was born from sexual deviance, rebellion, and refusal to conform. Sanitizing that history does not protect us—it disarms us. If we allow Pride to become sexually lifeless, we are not making it more inclusive; we are making it less honest. Pride must be reclaimed as a space where queer and trans people can express their desires and bodies with the same unapologetic defiance that launched the movement. Otherwise, it risks becoming a museum piece: brightly colored, well-funded, and utterly devoid of power.

References

Bridges, T. (2017, June 25). Activists protesting police presence at Chicago Pride Parade briefly detained. Chicago Tribune.

Halperin, D. M., & Traub, V. (Eds.). (2009). Gay shame. University of Chicago Press.

Ritchie, A. J., & Mogul, J. L. (2007). In Queer communities, police presence isn’t about safety. ColorLines. https://www.colorlines.com

Rubin, G. (1984). Thinking sex: Notes for a radical theory of the politics of sexuality. In C. Vance (Ed.), Pleasure and danger: Exploring female sexuality (pp. 267–319). Routledge.

Schulman, S. (2012). The gentrification of the mind: Witness to a lost imagination. University of California Press.

Trump’s War on Dissent

By Katherine Walter

On June 8, 2025

In civil rights, Donald Trump

EDITORS NOTE: Graphic content / US Department of Homeland Security Police officers and members of the National Guard stand guard outside the Metropolitan Detention Center, MDC, in downtown Los Angeles, California on June 8, 2025. Hundreds of National Guard troops took up positions in Los Angeles on June 8 on US President Donald Trump’s orders, a rare deployment against the state governor’s wishes after sometimes violent protests against immigration enforcement raids. (Photo by Frederic J. Brown / AFP) (Photo by FREDERIC J. BROWN/AFP via Getty Images)

On June 8, 2025, President Donald J. Trump took the extraordinary step of deploying the California National Guard to Los Angeles without the consent of Governor Gavin Newsom. The move was prompted by days of civil unrest following aggressive ICE raids in predominantly Latino neighborhoods in Southern California. While the official justification cited the need to restore order, the action fits within a broader historical pattern of Trump’s antagonism toward civil protest, particularly those that question his policies or leadership. The deployment is significant not only for its legal implications but also for the insight it offers into Trump’s authoritarian inclinations and his evolving use of federal power.

The protests began on June 6, when ICE agents conducted a coordinated series of raids on businesses in Los Angeles, including several clothing wholesalers and a Home Depot, reportedly detaining 44 undocumented workers (Associated Press, 2025a). Demonstrators gathered almost immediately in response, particularly in the communities of Paramount and Compton. Local news outlets and protest organizers described the raids as racially motivated and disproportionate. Over the next two days, confrontations between protesters and law enforcement escalated. Reports from the Los Angeles Times indicated the use of tear gas, pepper spray, and flash-bang grenades by federal agents (Vanity Fair, 2025). Protesters were accused of throwing rocks and concrete chunks, and by June 7, over 100 arrests had been made (Schneid, 2025).

On the morning of June 8, Trump invoked Title 10 of the U.S. Code to federalize the California National Guard, ordering the immediate deployment of approximately 2,000 troops to the Los Angeles area (Associated Press, 2025a). The initial wave of around 300 soldiers was stationed outside federal immigration facilities, including detention centers in downtown Los Angeles. Department of Homeland Security personnel, joined by local law enforcement, used smoke and crowd-control tactics to clear demonstrators from the perimeter of these buildings (Vanity Fair, 2025). More troubling still, Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth placed active-duty Marines at Camp Pendleton on high alert, stating that additional support would be mobilized if local resistance intensified (Wall Street Journal, 2025).

The legal basis for this intervention drew immediate scrutiny. Unlike the Insurrection Act—which has historically required consent from governors unless rebellion or national security threats are imminent—Title 10 allows the president to assume control of a state’s National Guard under more ambiguous circumstances. Trump’s use of this authority without consultation or approval from Governor Newsom represented a sharp departure from precedent (Washington Post, 2025). While prior instances of federal deployment have occurred—most notably during the civil rights era in 1965 and again during the 1992 Los Angeles riots—those actions typically involved collaboration between state and federal governments. Trump’s unilateral order broke with this tradition and raised immediate constitutional concerns.

Governor Newsom condemned the move, calling it “a political stunt masquerading as public safety” (Schneid, 2025). He emphasized that while some violence had occurred, local law enforcement had the situation under control. Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass similarly criticized the decision, asserting that federal interference had inflamed tensions rather than de-escalated them (Associated Press, 2025b). Civil liberties organizations, including the ACLU, filed emergency injunctions in federal court, arguing that the federalization of the Guard in this context violated the Tenth Amendment and constituted an overreach of executive authority (Reuters, 2025).

Trump, meanwhile, defended his decision by invoking the language of law and order. On his Truth Social account, he referred to the demonstrators as “Radical Left agitators” and accused them of trying to undermine ICE’s lawful operations. He further announced a new federal regulation banning the use of masks at protests, which critics argued would further chill lawful dissent (The Daily Beast, 2025). In a televised address, he declared that “these protests are not about immigration—they’re about chaos, and we will not allow our cities to be taken over by mobs” (Vanity Fair, 2025). The administration’s framing of the protests as a rebellion rather than protected expression marked a dramatic escalation in tone.

This pattern is not new. During the summer of 2020, following the police murder of George Floyd, Trump threatened to deploy active-duty troops to major cities under the Insurrection Act. At the time, his Secretary of Defense, Mark Esper, opposed the idea, and the deployment was ultimately shelved in favor of National Guard assistance requested by governors (Baker et al., 2020). Still, the president’s language—especially his tweet that “when the looting starts, the shooting starts”—signaled an aversion to protest and a readiness to treat dissent as criminality. Twitter flagged the post for glorifying violence. Although he stopped short of federalizing troops in 2020, Trump’s second term has shown a greater willingness to follow through on such threats.

What has changed between 2020 and 2025 is both the legal assertiveness and the composition of Trump’s inner circle. Pete Hegseth, a conservative media personality and military veteran, now heads the Department of Defense and has shown no hesitation in using federal power to advance Trump’s agenda (Wall Street Journal, 2025). The administration no longer faces internal resistance to military deployments within U.S. borders, and Hegseth’s public statements indicate an expansive view of executive authority over domestic security.

The deployment of the National Guard in Los Angeles is troubling not only for its immediate impact but also for the precedent it sets. Legal scholars argue that the president’s invocation of Title 10 without compelling justification stretches the intent of the statute and undermines the balance of power between federal and state governments (Washington Post, 2025). By reframing peaceful protest as rebellion, the Trump administration expands the conditions under which future presidents might justify similar interventions. The deployment also serves to delegitimize public dissent and normalize military presence in response to constitutionally protected speech.

Politically, the move appears calibrated to energize Trump’s base. By portraying the protests as violent and anarchic, Trump crafts a narrative of national chaos that only he can control. This strategy, first evident in 2016 and refined in 2020, has become more explicit in his second term. Commentators have described the Los Angeles deployment as a “dress rehearsal” for federal crackdowns in other cities, particularly those governed by Democratic officials (The Daily Beast, 2025).

Civil liberties advocates warn that this could lead to an erosion of protest rights nationwide. If the federal government can override local control whenever political opposition manifests in the streets, then public assembly may become subject to partisan suppression. Already, activists report increased surveillance, aggressive policing, and prosecutions under federal statutes that were rarely used in past administrations (Reuters, 2025).

Perhaps most ominous is the symbolic weight of military deployment in a democratic society. The sight of uniformed troops in American cities sends a chilling message about the limits of dissent. It transforms the public square into a battleground and reduces the space for political disagreement. As historians have pointed out, democracy depends not only on laws and elections but also on norms of restraint and mutual respect. The willingness to call out troops against fellow citizens erodes those norms and creates a political culture of fear and coercion.

Trump’s aversion to civil protest is not merely personal—it is ideological. He views opposition as illegitimate and protest as rebellion. This worldview has shaped his policies and informed his rhetoric from the beginning of his political career. The events of June 8, 2025, are not an anomaly but the logical conclusion of a long-standing approach to governance—one that prioritizes control over compromise and sees federal power as a tool to crush dissent rather than uphold democratic rights.

As Americans reflect on this moment, the stakes are clear. The deployment of the National Guard to Los Angeles raises profound questions about the future of civil liberties, the separation of powers, and the health of our democratic institutions. It challenges us to consider whether protest will remain a protected right or become a pretext for martial intervention. And it forces us to ask what kind of country we want to be: one where dissent is respected, or one where it is suppressed at the point of a gun.

References

Associated Press. (2025a, June 8). What to know about Trump’s deployment of National Guard troops to LA protests. https://apnews.com/article/national-guard-trump-los-angeles-protests-2025

Associated Press. (2025b, June 8). California governor calls Trump’s move “inflammatory” as Guard arrives in L.A. https://apnews.com/article/newsom-trump-national-guard-2025

Baker, P., Shear, M. D., & Schmitt, E. (2020, June 3). Trump’s authority to send troops into states, explained. The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2020/06/03/us/politics/trump-military-authority.html

Reuters. (2025, June 7). White House aide calls Los Angeles anti-ICE protests an insurrection. https://www.reuters.com/world/us/trump-declares-los-angeles-protests-insurrection-2025

Schneid, R. (2025, June 8). Trump sparks backlash as National Guard arrives in L.A. on his orders. TIME. https://time.com/trump-national-guard-backlash-los-angeles-2025

The Daily Beast. (2025, June 8). It’s summer in Trump’s America and fascism is in bloom. https://www.thedailybeast.com/donald-trump-has-a-bad-case-of-premature-despotism

Vanity Fair. (2025, June 8). National Guard troops arrive in Los Angeles after Trump signs orders. https://www.vanityfair.com/news/story/national-guard-arrive-in-los-angeles-after-trump-signs-orders

Wall Street Journal. (2025, June 8). Trump advisers once opposed using active-duty troops at protests. Not anymore. https://www.wsj.com/politics/elections/trump-advisers-once-opposed-using-active-duty-troops-at-protests-not-anymore-96afb208

Washington Post. (2025, June 8). Trump charts new territory in bypassing Newsom to deploy National Guard. https://www.washingtonpost.com/national-security/2025/06/08/trump-national-guard-la-protests-law

The Criminalization of Transgender Identity

By Katherine Walter

On March 6, 2025

In LGBTQ+ rights

In recent years, a troubling trend has emerged across the United States: the introduction and enactment of laws that effectively criminalize aspects of being transgender. These laws go beyond limiting access to medical care or restricting participation in public life; they represent a broader effort to marginalize and erase transgender individuals.

While Illinois has upheld legal protections for transgender individuals, the national wave of anti-trans legislation is deeply concerning. These laws do not only harm those living in conservative states but also create ripple effects that extend nationwide, even reaching those in progressive areas. The increasing criminalization of transgender identity threatens fundamental civil rights, healthcare access, and the ability of transgender people to live openly and safely.

State legislatures across the country have introduced and, in some cases, passed extreme laws targeting transgender identity and gender-affirming care. Some states have proposed criminalizing transgender people for identifying as a gender different from what was assigned at birth, labeling this as fraud and imposing severe legal penalties. Others have removed gender identity from anti-discrimination protections, allowing increased discrimination against transgender individuals in employment, housing, and public services. Laws have also been passed that restrict or even ban access to gender-affirming medical care, not only for minors but in some cases for adults as well.

At the federal level, executive orders and policy changes have further undermined transgender rights. Government efforts to redefine gender strictly based on biological sex have effectively stripped transgender individuals of legal recognition in various federally funded programs. Funding for gender-affirming healthcare has also been targeted, making it more difficult for transgender individuals to access essential medical services, even in states that support such care. These measures reinforce discrimination at a national level and create a legal environment where transgender people are increasingly marginalized.

For those living in states like Illinois, where transgender rights are legally protected, it may seem as though these laws will not have an impact. However, the reality is far more complex. Federal policies can override state protections, particularly when it comes to funding for healthcare programs. Clinics that provide gender-affirming care may struggle to maintain services if federal funding is restricted. Additionally, the growing number of transgender individuals fleeing hostile states in search of healthcare and safety could place a strain on resources in states that offer protection.

Beyond the legal and healthcare implications, the rise of anti-trans legislation contributes to a culture of hostility and discrimination. Even in states with protective laws, the national conversation around transgender rights affects public attitudes, often leading to increased discrimination, workplace bias, and violence against transgender people. Hate crimes targeting transgender individuals have been on the rise, fueled by rhetoric that paints them as threats rather than human beings deserving of dignity and respect. Traveling becomes riskier for transgender people, as neighboring states with restrictive laws create environments where something as simple as using a public restroom or presenting as one’s authentic self could lead to harassment, arrest, or violence.

As a transgender woman living in Illinois, the inconsistency of protections across different states creates a constant sense of uncertainty. Rights that are protected in one place can disappear the moment state lines are crossed. The ability to live freely and without fear should not be dependent on geography, yet that is the reality that many transgender people face. Even in a progressive state, the fear of national policy changes and the emboldening of anti-trans sentiment weighs heavily on daily life.

The economic and social consequences of these laws extend beyond the transgender community. Businesses are pulling events and operations from states that pass extreme anti-trans laws, leading to financial losses. Universities in these states are seeing declines in applications from LGBTQ+ students, affecting campus diversity. If the spread of these laws continues, even states that have supported transgender rights may face political pressure to conform to restrictive national policies.

At its core, the push to criminalize transgender identity is a moral and ethical crisis. These laws deny transgender people their dignity, autonomy, and basic human rights. The argument that such laws are meant to protect children or uphold traditional values is nothing more than a justification for discrimination. Medical professionals overwhelmingly agree that gender-affirming care is essential and life-saving. The refusal to recognize transgender identities and the restriction of medical care only lead to higher rates of depression, anxiety, and suicide among transgender individuals. These laws are not about protecting anyone—they are about controlling and erasing a marginalized group.

The continued expansion of anti-trans laws should concern everyone, not just those directly affected. When governments begin rolling back rights for one group, history has shown that other marginalized communities will soon be targeted. Today, transgender people face the brunt of these attacks, but tomorrow, it could be anyone whose identity or autonomy does not align with the political agenda of those in power. If these laws are allowed to stand, they will embolden further government overreach into personal identity, medical autonomy, and individual freedoms.

Addressing this crisis requires action. Elections matter, and voting for candidates who support transgender rights is crucial at every level of government. Legal challenges to these laws are ongoing, and organizations fighting for transgender rights need support. Social advocacy is also critical—challenging anti-trans rhetoric, educating others, and standing up for transgender individuals in everyday life all contribute to pushing back against this wave of discrimination. Protecting the most vulnerable members of the transgender community is essential, whether through direct financial support, providing safe spaces, or amplifying their voices.

The criminalization of transgender identity is not about safety or protecting society—it is about control. The ability to live as one’s authentic self should never be a political debate. No one should have to fear losing their rights, their healthcare, or their safety simply for existing. This fight is about human dignity, and it is one that cannot be ignored.