UCLA made me disabled.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been ill my whole life. I was diagnosed with Marfan Syndrome at 18 months old, a rare genetic disorder that makes my connective tissue more elastic and prone to spontaneous breakage. I hear from every medical professional I see that I am a textbook marfanoid; there was even a photo of 6-year-old me on The Marfan Foundation’s “Signs & Symptoms” page for a decade. I am a literal poster child for my condition.
UCLA made me disabled.
Picture this: it’s June 28, 1970, nearly a year after the monumental Stonewall riots, and you’re attending the first Pride Parade in New York City. Except it’s not a parade, and it’s not entirely about Pride: it’s the Christopher Street Liberation Day March. Here, we recognize the familiar names of Marsha P. Johnson, Sylvia Rivera, Miss Major Griffin-Gracy, and the lesser known names of the march’s organizers Craig Rodwell, Fred Sargeant, Ellen Broidy, Linda Rhodes, Brenda Howard and many more. Unlike today’s Pride Parade, this march in New York was dedicated to Gay Liberation in the forms of political speeches, demonstrations, and gay visibility.
Queerness is often about survival. While Torres is alluding to a space free from discrimination and violence, with the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, queer survival is being threatened even more. As much as we want to create a “safe space,” there is no true safe space as long as people are dying and becoming disabled from COVID-19. COVID-19 is being swept under the rug by our government despite clear evidence that repeat infections can leave lasting damage in almost every organ in the body.7 Currently, there is also a resurgence of anti-LGBTQIA+, anti-Black, anti-immigrant, and anti-free speech rhetoric and legislation. When queer people are denied the chance to exist, we must find a way to live. By critically examining our past, we can shed light on the present.
The horror genre has a transphobia problem. I’m an avid horror fan whose apartment requires a warning to enter with all the horror villains plastered to my walls. I am also a transgender person who knows that negative depictions of my community, however unintentionally harmful, do have an impact. To understand these consequences, I will be discussing four horror films that feature transmisogynist tropes and explore how their portrayal causes real harm to the trans community.
In 1977, orange juice spokeswoman Anita Bryant campaigned against a new anti-discrimination law protecting gay men and lesbians in Dade County, Florida. She had it overturned and riding on the wave of this success, started Save Our Children, the United States’ first national anti gay group.
I write this on the eve of the launch of “Lightfall,” “Destiny 2”’s (“D2”’s) newest story expansion, although hopefully by the time this article is published I’ll have spent some hours exploring the cyberpunk city environment of Neomuna. I am the most excited I’ve been for any piece of media in years.
Instead of shutting down harmful anti-trans bills, the Montana House of Representatives chose to shut down the voice of trans representative Zooey Zephyr. Zephyr is a member of the Montana House of Representatives and is in the 100th district representing Missoula, one of the bluest areas of Montana.
Activism is rough, and we throw a lot of words around at each other. “Assimilationist!” “Unrealistic!” “Conformist!” “Aggressive!” LGBTQ+ activism has not only been met with virulent backlash from the cisgender, heterosexual side of society but also has been plagued by intra-community conflict on the best ways to do things. The tension surrounding LGBTQ+ activism boils down to a push and pull between outright rebellion and more incremental forms of justice. This conflict is not specific to the LGBTQ+ community; all sorts of movements spanning different identities and ideas encounter the contentious dichotomy between abolition and reform.
The queer messaging of the Acclaimed — the two tag team champions for the professional wrestling company All Elite Wrestling (AEW) — veers in enough different directions that it’s hard to pick out a unified message. The fictional world of wrestling, whose staged theatrics and over-the-top characters often shade towards campiness, complicates the real-world impact of that message even further.
The ACLU is currently tracking 467 anti-LGBTQ bills among 45 state legislators at the time of publication. On April 13, the U.S. Department of Education (referred to as The Department) published its proposed updates to Title IX regulations entitled “Nondiscrimination on the Basis of Sex in Education Programs or Activities Receiving Federal Financial Assistance: Sex-Related Eligibility Criteria for Male and Female Athletic Teams.”