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A protester holds a placard outside of the Pennsylvania Capitol during a 50501 protest on February 2, 2025.
The Trump-Vance administration believed they could turn back the clock on the LGBTQI+ community by cutting services, weaponizing laws and regulations, and trying to erase our identities. They have deeply underestimated us.
As a Black queer advocate and policy professional, I have never been naive about politics. But 2025 surpassed even cynics’ worst fears. The Trump-Vance administration didn’t just change laws; it dismantled protections, erased identities, stripped away care, and declared that some lives don’t matter.
Black and brown communities already battling racialized policing, economic precarity, and limited access to care suffered new blows on multiple fronts. For women, girls, transgender youth, disabled people, queer folks, immigrants, the message was clear: Not only your rights, but your bodies, your health, and your lives are expendable.
President Donald Trump’s January 20, 2025 executive order “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth” redefined gender as a binary fixed from birth. Across agencies, “gender” became “sex,” and gender identity was erased from federal recognition and protections.
Trump’s January 24 executive order reinstating Hyde Amendment-style restrictions cut virtually all federal funding for abortion, and clawed back health funding for reproductive services. The 1977 Hyde Amendment banned using federal funds for abortion (except in cases of rape or incest or a life-threatening pregnancy). Doubling down on it disproportionately impacts women, girls, low-income people, and communities of color.
Communities of color, LGBTQI+ people, women, girls, and transgender youth are not disappearing. We are organizing; we are resisting; we are making care, dignity, and justice real.
By mid-2025, all federal support for LGBTQI-specific crisis services through the national suicide prevention hotline 988 was suspended—a direct blow to people who rely on them when they have nowhere else to turn.
Over the course of the year, health-equity protections, data collection on sexual orientation and gender identity, nondiscrimination guidance, and federal support for queer and trans-inclusive care were all revoked.
Taken together, these actions aren’t just policy changes; they symbolize structural denial of the needs, identities, and very existence of people the administration doesn’t want to see in its vision for America, or indeed the world.
Last year it overhauled how the US reports on human rights, categorizing abortion access, gender-affirming care, and protections for LGBTQI+ people as “human rights violations” while ignoring systemic racism, police violence, economic inequality, and state-sanctioned oppression. This brazen rewriting of global norms on human rights gives cover to oppressive regimes and undermines US leadership and moral standing.
So where do we go from here?
We need to hold ourselves accountable for building real equity in real time. We must reclaim care as a form of resistance. Our laws at every level must guarantee access to healthcare, behavioral health services, gender-affirming care, mental health support, comprehensive data collection, and nondiscrimination protections. They must guarantee reproductive autonomy and community safety for everyone, and especially for those denied these rights the longest. Care, autonomy, and safety are imperative at all times, and can’t be suspended or soft-pedalled when ideological winds shift.
Those most impacted by the shifts must shape the path forward: Women of color should be at the center of reproductive health and justice efforts. Queer people from historically marginalized communities should guide design of mental health and crisis-response systems. Transgender youth should lead national conversations about their own safety and autonomy.
2025 was not just a bleak moment in our history; it is a warning about our future. It shows how quickly rights can be erased, how destructive the raw exercise of power can be, and who gets scapegoated for the ensuing chaos.
But it also demonstrates our strength and resolve. Communities of color, LGBTQI+ people, women, girls, and transgender youth are not disappearing. We are organizing; we are resisting; we are making care, dignity, and justice real.
The Trump-Vance administration believed they could turn back the clock by cutting services, weaponizing laws and regulations, and trying to erase our identities. They have deeply underestimated us. We are not waiting for permission to exist. We are still here. We are still building. And we will not be erased.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
As a Black queer advocate and policy professional, I have never been naive about politics. But 2025 surpassed even cynics’ worst fears. The Trump-Vance administration didn’t just change laws; it dismantled protections, erased identities, stripped away care, and declared that some lives don’t matter.
Black and brown communities already battling racialized policing, economic precarity, and limited access to care suffered new blows on multiple fronts. For women, girls, transgender youth, disabled people, queer folks, immigrants, the message was clear: Not only your rights, but your bodies, your health, and your lives are expendable.
President Donald Trump’s January 20, 2025 executive order “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth” redefined gender as a binary fixed from birth. Across agencies, “gender” became “sex,” and gender identity was erased from federal recognition and protections.
Trump’s January 24 executive order reinstating Hyde Amendment-style restrictions cut virtually all federal funding for abortion, and clawed back health funding for reproductive services. The 1977 Hyde Amendment banned using federal funds for abortion (except in cases of rape or incest or a life-threatening pregnancy). Doubling down on it disproportionately impacts women, girls, low-income people, and communities of color.
Communities of color, LGBTQI+ people, women, girls, and transgender youth are not disappearing. We are organizing; we are resisting; we are making care, dignity, and justice real.
By mid-2025, all federal support for LGBTQI-specific crisis services through the national suicide prevention hotline 988 was suspended—a direct blow to people who rely on them when they have nowhere else to turn.
Over the course of the year, health-equity protections, data collection on sexual orientation and gender identity, nondiscrimination guidance, and federal support for queer and trans-inclusive care were all revoked.
Taken together, these actions aren’t just policy changes; they symbolize structural denial of the needs, identities, and very existence of people the administration doesn’t want to see in its vision for America, or indeed the world.
Last year it overhauled how the US reports on human rights, categorizing abortion access, gender-affirming care, and protections for LGBTQI+ people as “human rights violations” while ignoring systemic racism, police violence, economic inequality, and state-sanctioned oppression. This brazen rewriting of global norms on human rights gives cover to oppressive regimes and undermines US leadership and moral standing.
So where do we go from here?
We need to hold ourselves accountable for building real equity in real time. We must reclaim care as a form of resistance. Our laws at every level must guarantee access to healthcare, behavioral health services, gender-affirming care, mental health support, comprehensive data collection, and nondiscrimination protections. They must guarantee reproductive autonomy and community safety for everyone, and especially for those denied these rights the longest. Care, autonomy, and safety are imperative at all times, and can’t be suspended or soft-pedalled when ideological winds shift.
Those most impacted by the shifts must shape the path forward: Women of color should be at the center of reproductive health and justice efforts. Queer people from historically marginalized communities should guide design of mental health and crisis-response systems. Transgender youth should lead national conversations about their own safety and autonomy.
2025 was not just a bleak moment in our history; it is a warning about our future. It shows how quickly rights can be erased, how destructive the raw exercise of power can be, and who gets scapegoated for the ensuing chaos.
But it also demonstrates our strength and resolve. Communities of color, LGBTQI+ people, women, girls, and transgender youth are not disappearing. We are organizing; we are resisting; we are making care, dignity, and justice real.
The Trump-Vance administration believed they could turn back the clock by cutting services, weaponizing laws and regulations, and trying to erase our identities. They have deeply underestimated us. We are not waiting for permission to exist. We are still here. We are still building. And we will not be erased.
As a Black queer advocate and policy professional, I have never been naive about politics. But 2025 surpassed even cynics’ worst fears. The Trump-Vance administration didn’t just change laws; it dismantled protections, erased identities, stripped away care, and declared that some lives don’t matter.
Black and brown communities already battling racialized policing, economic precarity, and limited access to care suffered new blows on multiple fronts. For women, girls, transgender youth, disabled people, queer folks, immigrants, the message was clear: Not only your rights, but your bodies, your health, and your lives are expendable.
President Donald Trump’s January 20, 2025 executive order “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth” redefined gender as a binary fixed from birth. Across agencies, “gender” became “sex,” and gender identity was erased from federal recognition and protections.
Trump’s January 24 executive order reinstating Hyde Amendment-style restrictions cut virtually all federal funding for abortion, and clawed back health funding for reproductive services. The 1977 Hyde Amendment banned using federal funds for abortion (except in cases of rape or incest or a life-threatening pregnancy). Doubling down on it disproportionately impacts women, girls, low-income people, and communities of color.
Communities of color, LGBTQI+ people, women, girls, and transgender youth are not disappearing. We are organizing; we are resisting; we are making care, dignity, and justice real.
By mid-2025, all federal support for LGBTQI-specific crisis services through the national suicide prevention hotline 988 was suspended—a direct blow to people who rely on them when they have nowhere else to turn.
Over the course of the year, health-equity protections, data collection on sexual orientation and gender identity, nondiscrimination guidance, and federal support for queer and trans-inclusive care were all revoked.
Taken together, these actions aren’t just policy changes; they symbolize structural denial of the needs, identities, and very existence of people the administration doesn’t want to see in its vision for America, or indeed the world.
Last year it overhauled how the US reports on human rights, categorizing abortion access, gender-affirming care, and protections for LGBTQI+ people as “human rights violations” while ignoring systemic racism, police violence, economic inequality, and state-sanctioned oppression. This brazen rewriting of global norms on human rights gives cover to oppressive regimes and undermines US leadership and moral standing.
So where do we go from here?
We need to hold ourselves accountable for building real equity in real time. We must reclaim care as a form of resistance. Our laws at every level must guarantee access to healthcare, behavioral health services, gender-affirming care, mental health support, comprehensive data collection, and nondiscrimination protections. They must guarantee reproductive autonomy and community safety for everyone, and especially for those denied these rights the longest. Care, autonomy, and safety are imperative at all times, and can’t be suspended or soft-pedalled when ideological winds shift.
Those most impacted by the shifts must shape the path forward: Women of color should be at the center of reproductive health and justice efforts. Queer people from historically marginalized communities should guide design of mental health and crisis-response systems. Transgender youth should lead national conversations about their own safety and autonomy.
2025 was not just a bleak moment in our history; it is a warning about our future. It shows how quickly rights can be erased, how destructive the raw exercise of power can be, and who gets scapegoated for the ensuing chaos.
But it also demonstrates our strength and resolve. Communities of color, LGBTQI+ people, women, girls, and transgender youth are not disappearing. We are organizing; we are resisting; we are making care, dignity, and justice real.
The Trump-Vance administration believed they could turn back the clock by cutting services, weaponizing laws and regulations, and trying to erase our identities. They have deeply underestimated us. We are not waiting for permission to exist. We are still here. We are still building. And we will not be erased.