In some ways, it is a great time to be queer.
As a trans person in Providence, I am fortunate to have a real community. I see pride flags on many streets in my Elmhurst neighborhood. I can think of a number of queer owned businesses (Heartleaf Books, Small Format cafe). And I live in a city with a gay mayor (Brett Smiley) and a queer City Council president (Rachel Miller). Meanwhile, there are more positive depictions of queer love in our media than in previous eras. I have watched and re-watched Heated Rivalry many times and eagerly await the newest season of Heartstopper and the sequel to the 2023 rom-com Red, White and Royal Blue.
At the same time, 2026 has also been an extremely difficult time to be part of the LGBTQIA+ community. State and federal laws are being passed that strip trans people of legal identification, access to healthcare, and basic rights to privacy and security. The Supreme Court is rolling back legal protections for trans people.
This year is also the second year in a row where polling shows that support for LGBTQIA+ people has declined in the United States. As someone who lives in Providence and is constantly surrounded by queer and trans people, I was naively shocked to see that only 65% of Americans find gay marriage acceptable, and that only 38% of Americans see gender transition as “morally acceptable.” While one of my family members attributed this decline to, “intersectionality and the association of LGTBQ people with the radical left,” I suspect that the role of mass media in peddling ideas about gay people being groomers, or social media companies allowing users to specifically target trans people is more likely the culprit.
As I go about my life and work, I do my best to compartmentalize the cognitive dissonance of being LGBTQIA+ in 2026.
I celebrate the fact that I was able to get my top surgery covered by insurance and that I have a primary care provider who can prescribe testosterone, while also stretching out my testosterone prescription so that I can accumulate a few extra vials a year in case I lose access. I read about the murder of yet another trans teen, while using Pride events as a method to fundraise for my campaign for Providence city council.
Above all, I stay busy.
On just one day this week – Thursday, June 18 – I will attend the Providence City Hall Pride Art Exhibit opening at 5 p.m., and then head to the queer candidate forum at the VU lounge I helped to organize at at 7 p.m.
I love being queer and trans.
And I love getting to be part of a lineage that has always fought for a better world. The more I have learned about queer history, the more I formed relationships with ancestors like Leslie Feinberg (trans, Jewish, anti-zionist labor and queer rights activist, 1949-2014) or Zdeněk Koubek (Czech track and field athlete, and a trans man, 1913-1986). I love getting to spend June being “professionally gay,” which is my personal shorthand for saying that as a visibly queer and trans semi-public figure, I am expected to be at Pride events (which I do genuinely enjoy), and calculate how I can best use my identity to connect with constituents, donors, and volunteers.
And, yet, I also find that I can’t escape the grief that queer and trans people are not safe. As long as trans people are considered to be enemies of the state, and as long as we face higher rates of stigma, homelessness, joblessness, and interpersonal violence compared to our cis peers, I see it as my obligation as a trans person to fight for liberation for myself, for my community, and for all of those experiencing state violence.
I don’t think the dissonance I feel has to be permanent, though. And you all – queer and straight folks alike – can help to fix it.
This Pride month, I challenge you to take action and to do the work of resolving the dissonance between the possibility of queer and trans joy and the reality of violence against queer and trans people. As a cis or straight person, talk to that homophobic family member of yours about how someone else’s identity doesn’t impact them. Take time to read about the struggle for LGBTQIA+ liberation. Some books I recommend are: Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Fienberg, Let the Record Show by Sarah Schulman, Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde, The Other Olympians: Fascism, Queerness and the Making of Modern Sport by Michael Waters, and We Have Always Been Here by Samra Habib.
I also urge anyone reading this – in Providence and beyond – to be bold in your support for queer and trans people. Donate to funds that support gender affirming care for trans people, legal funds for incarcerated trans folks, or to organizations that support queer and trans people, like Haus of Codec, ACLU of Rhode Island, and Youth Pride.
Fortunately, in Rhode Island, our state laws do protect queer and trans people, but our federal delegation has been fairly silent on queer and trans rights. I encourage you to call your officials at the city, state, and federal level and ask them about what they are doing to support trans rights. In Rhode Island, demand that your state legislators support the Health Insurance Nondiscrimination Act.
Pride started as a riot and in 2026, we cannot afford to have this month pass as just a party.
Jackie Goldman is a public health researcher and candidate for Providence City Council (Ward 5 – Mount Pleasant, Elmhurst and Manton). If they win, they will be the first openly trans person elected to office in Rhode Island.
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