Going on Offense: Resisting Trump’s LGBTQ+ Crackdown and Defending Our Communities
From military families to VA employees, here’s how we take action against authoritarian rollbacks of LGBTQ+ rights.
Welcome to New Subscribers
Before we dive into this analysis, I want to extend a warm welcome to new readers. If you’re joining us for the first time, I encourage you to explore my recent post on antifascist book clubs: Organize Locally: How Antifascist Book Clubs Can Build Power. Understanding history and strengthening grassroots networks are essential as we confront escalating threats to democracy and human rights.
Here at On Offense, my goal isn’t to overwhelm you with paralyzing anxiety and dread as so many other sources of news do nowadays. It’s to give you concrete action-items that educate and empower you. It’s to give you the information and tools that you need to go on offense for the people and country we love.
And that’s why:
I Want You! To Start an Antifascist Book Club
Unlearning Hate and Fighting for Change
I was born in 1985, and like many millennials growing up in the ‘90s, I was surrounded by casual homophobia. “That’s gay” was a common phrase used to describe something undesirable, and my friends and I—like so many other kids across the country—used slurs like “f*g” and “h*mo” without a second thought. It was normalized. We weren’t thinking about the harm we were doing; we were just parroting what we heard around us.
That changed for me in January 2001, when I saw Anatomy of a Hate Crime, an MTV production about the brutal murder of Matthew Shepard. I was 15 years old, and for the first time, I started to understand that the words we used so casually had real consequences. They weren’t just insults—they carried the weight of violence, fear, and oppression. But even then, that realization wasn’t enough to change me overnight.
It wasn’t until my senior year of high school, when I found out that one of my best friends was closeted, that the full weight of my words hit me. I suddenly realized the harm I had done—not just to nameless strangers, but to someone I loved. And even more painfully, I saw how my friend had been forced to participate in the same toxic language we all used, hiding in plain sight. He had spent years laughing along with us, using the same slurs, doing everything he could to blend in and protect himself from our ignorance.
From that moment on, I swore to change. I worked to remove those words from my vocabulary, but it took years to fully unlearn the ingrained bigotry I had absorbed as a kid.
In the meantime, I joined the Army in 2004, serving until 2007, including a deployment to Iraq. This was during the era of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” when queerness in the military was effectively treated as a punishable offense. In uniform, surrounded by others for whom homophobic slurs were second nature, I was silent at best—and at times, participatory. I had promised myself I would change, but now I found myself falling back into old habits, driven by the same toxic masculinity and social pressures that had shaped my childhood.
Even after leaving the Army, I struggled with the shame and regret of my past ignorance. I still hadn’t had a real conversation with my best friend about what he had gone through. I had the courage to enlist in the military at a time when two wars were kicking off, to fight in Iraq—but I didn’t have the courage to sit down with my friend and acknowledge the harm I had caused.
When I finally did, it was a painfully awkward conversation for both of us. I stumbled through my words, trying to make up for years of unspoken understanding, years of damage I could never fully undo. I know now that my well-meaning attempts to show him I had changed were clumsy and unnecessary—but what mattered was that we had the conversation. We got through it. And we remained as close as ever.
I share this story because change is possible. The systems that teach us to hate, to exclude, to normalize discrimination—they are powerful. But they are not unshakable. I was shaped by those systems, but I was also able to unlearn them. And if I could, so can others.
Hate becomes exponentially more damaging when it is reinforced by federal law. When discrimination is codified into policy, it doesn’t just harm individuals—it warps entire institutions, undermines trust in democracy, and legitimizes systemic oppression. Trump’s renewed assault on LGBTQ+ rights is not just an ideological move; it is a direct attack on the rights and dignity of millions. By embedding bigotry into federal regulations, his administration is sending a clear and chilling message: LGBTQ+ people do not belong.
This isn’t just a matter of language or policy—it is a matter of survival. When state-enforced discrimination infiltrates institutions like the VA, the military, and public education, it emboldens extremists, silences dissent, and makes life tangibly more dangerous for millions of people. The effects ripple outward, creating an environment where hate is legitimized, protections are dismantled, and the most vulnerable are left unprotected. We are not just fighting for policy changes; we are resisting the normalization of exclusion and erasure.
This is why we must refuse compliance. History shows us that policies designed to dehumanize and marginalize will only become more entrenched if they are left unchallenged.
The Authoritarian Playbook: Suppressing LGBTQ+ Rights
On the day of his second inauguration, Donald Trump initiated a sweeping rollback of LGBTQ+ rights through executive orders that redefined sex and gender under federal law. These orders erased recognition of gender identity, reinstated rigid binary definitions of sex, and imposed severe restrictions on discussions of race and gender in education.
These actions are not isolated incidents but part of a broader authoritarian framework. Historically, regimes that seek to consolidate power target marginalized communities, using them as scapegoats to justify state overreach. From Nazi Germany’s criminalization of homosexuality to Vladimir Putin’s systematic suppression of LGBTQ+ rights, these patterns are well-documented. Trump’s policies fit squarely within this historical context, aimed at undermining civil rights under the guise of protecting “traditional values.”
By implementing policies that strip LGBTQ+ individuals of legal recognition and censor discussions of identity, the administration is establishing a foundation for long-term institutional discrimination. This is not just about limiting rights—it is about reinforcing an ideological framework that normalizes exclusion, erasure, and state-sanctioned prejudice. These policies create a chilling effect that discourages advocacy, weakens support systems, and isolates LGBTQ+ individuals, particularly those in vulnerable positions such as youth, veterans, and military personnel.
Trump’s administration is using familiar tactics: dehumanization through language, structural barriers to participation, and legal maneuvers that disguise discrimination as policy adjustments. The intention is clear—LGBTQ+ individuals are being systematically pushed out of public life, their existence reduced to a legal nonentity.
The Department of Veterans Affairs: Erasing LGBTQ+ Support
Among the earliest casualties of Trump’s executive orders was the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA), which swiftly moved to eliminate LGBTQ+-inclusive policies. This has resulted in the removal of resources for LGBTQ+ veterans, the disbanding of support groups, and the resignation of personnel tasked with ensuring equitable care.
Former VA psychologist Mary Brinkmeyer, who coordinated LGBTQ+ veteran support programs at a VA hospital in Virginia, resigned in protest after being instructed to strip her office of LGBTQ+ resources. She described the experience as “watching years of work be dismantled in an instant.” The loss of trained professionals advocating for LGBTQ+ veterans has ripple effects, weakening the quality of care and making it harder for veterans to seek support in an increasingly hostile environment.
These policy changes have real consequences. LGBTQ+ veterans face disproportionately high rates of PTSD and suicidality. The removal of gender-affirming care and LGBTQ+-inclusive mental health services will increase the vulnerability of those who have already sacrificed in service to their country. The VA’s compliance with these directives not only harms veterans but also sets a precedent for broader healthcare discrimination in federally funded programs. It signals that healthcare can be used as a political weapon to enforce ideological conformity.
The deadly consequences of these policies are already manifesting.
On January 27, a veteran died by suicide in the parking garage of the VA Medical Center in Syracuse, New York. Witnesses reported that the veteran was draped in a transgender pride flag, making a final, devastating statement against an administration that had erased their rights. The veteran had been discharged from inpatient care just days earlier, underscoring the dangers of dismantling LGBTQ+-affirming healthcare at the VA. While VA officials have declined to comment on the specifics of the case, reports indicate that gender identities are being systematically removed from medical records, making it harder for transgender veterans to access appropriate care. This tragic loss is a direct result of policies that dehumanize LGBTQ+ people and deny them the support they need. It is also a grim warning: stripping away protections and affirming care doesn’t just make life harder for transgender veterans—it puts their lives at risk.
Veterans and service members experiencing a mental health emergency can call the Veteran Crisis Line, 988 and press 1. Help also is available by text, 838255, and via chat at VeteransCrisisLine.net
Censorship as a Political Weapon
One of the most alarming elements of Trump’s second term is his administration’s aggressive push to erase LGBTQ+ representation from public discourse. The Center for American Progress has identified over 350 LGBTQ+-related pages, policies, and resources that have already been purged from federal websites. This digital erasure follows a familiar authoritarian pattern—control the narrative by controlling access to information.
The removal of LGBTQ+-related content from the Department of Education, the VA, and USAID reflects a broader effort to rewrite history. Beyond digital censorship, physical materials in schools and public institutions are also under attack. Libraries are being forced to remove LGBTQ+ books, while federally funded education programs have been stripped of discussions on gender identity and systemic racism.
Erasing this information from the public record does more than just deny visibility—it redefines reality for future generations, ensuring that LGBTQ+ individuals and their histories are rendered invisible in the national consciousness. This strategy ensures that future challenges to discrimination lack a foundational history to build upon, weakening future legal and social resistance.
Institutional Resistance: When the System Fights Back
History has shown that authoritarian overreach does not go unchallenged, and this administration’s attempts to suppress dissent have met resistance from within key institutions—including the military and legal communities.
One of the most striking examples of this came on February 13, 2025, when a crisis unfolded within the Southern District of New York (SDNY). Reminiscent of Nixon’s “Saturday Night Massacre,” multiple high-ranking federal prosecutors resigned rather than comply with orders from the Justice Department to drop a corruption case against New York Mayor Eric Adams.
Danielle Sassoon, the interim U.S. Attorney for the district, resigned in protest alongside two top officials in the Justice Department’s Public Integrity Section. Their departure underscored the internal fracture within the federal legal system, as career prosecutors refused to bow to politically motivated directives. Shortly after, additional resignations followed, further destabilizing the administration’s ability to dictate the outcome of cases based on political interests rather than legal merit.
This mass resignation highlights the importance of institutional resistance. Just as these prosecutors refused to compromise their ethical and legal obligations, officials within the Department of Defense and the VA must also decide whether to comply with discriminatory policies or fight back. History reminds us that the military has often played a role in shaping civil rights progress—from the desegregation of the armed forces to the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.”
While authoritarian regimes rely on bureaucratic compliance to implement their agendas, resistance from within military and veteran-serving institutions can disrupt the machinery of oppression. The Justice Department’s overreach is an omen for what is to come if unchecked: a legal and military system fully weaponized against marginalized groups.
The SDNY crisis is a model of what effective resistance looks like: principled defiance at key moments. If other public officials—military leaders, VA staff, and civilian employees—follow suit, it will make clear that Trump’s attempts to manipulate the system will not go unchallenged.
And that’s why I recently published:
Military Families Fight Back
When Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth visited U.S. European Command headquarters in Germany, he was met with vocal protests from military families outraged by his policies. Chants of “DEI” rang out as families condemned the administration’s ban on transgender enlistment and its rollback of diversity initiatives in military schools.
Military families have long played a pivotal role in influencing policy, from demanding better housing conditions to advocating for the repeal of discriminatory practices like “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” Their opposition to Hegseth’s directives presents a formidable challenge to the administration’s efforts to reshape the military into a force of ideological conformity.
Beyond direct protests, military families have begun organizing online, leveraging social media to connect with advocacy groups and legal organizations. Some have reached out to lawmakers, urging congressional oversight and accountability for Hegseth’s policies. Others are working with veterans’ groups and civil rights organizations to amplify their concerns and build pressure on military leadership.
If history has shown us anything, it is that military families have the power to drive change. Their resistance is not just about protecting their own loved ones—it is about preserving the integrity of the armed forces as an institution that serves all who wear the uniform.
Calls to Action
For Servicemembers on Duty: Your oath is to the Constitution, not to any political party or administration. If you witness discriminatory policies being enforced unlawfully, document them. Seek guidance from organizations like the Modern Military Association of America and report LGBTQ+ discrimination here. If you are in a leadership position, ensure that all service members—especially LGBTQ+ troops—feel safe and supported.
For VA Employees: If you work for the VA and are being pressured to implement discriminatory policies, remember that your role is to serve veterans, not political agendas. Internal dissent can be powerful—leaking documents that expose injustice, filing internal complaints, or working with veteran advocacy groups like Minority Veterans of America can help resist these harmful changes.
For Military Families: The resistance of military families has historically shaped policies affecting service members. Continue to organize—attend protests, contact your congressional representatives, and use social media to document and share the impact of these policies on your families and communities. Joining organizations like the Secure Families Initiative can amplify your voice.
For Veterans: Join Common Defense, a grassroots organization of progressive veterans fighting for democracy and social justice. Your voice carries weight, and by organizing with other veterans, you can push back against these attacks on our community and hold leaders accountable.
For Everyone Else: Your role is to support these three groups (click any of the links above to join or donate to their organizations). Share their stories, donate to legal defense funds for servicemembers facing retaliation, and pressure lawmakers to intervene. Reach out to local media outlets to amplify instances of discrimination. Most importantly, start an Antifascist Book Club to build networks of resistance that can sustain long-term advocacy beyond any single election cycle.
"This is not just about limiting rights—it is about reinforcing an ideological framework that normalizes exclusion, erasure, and state-sanctioned prejudice. " K.G.
100% Agree, although as an individual actively targeted by a militia group that's supported publicly by a constitutional sheriff, I would take it a step further and write state-sanctioned violence, denial of basic civil and human rights, emotional torture and the systematic degradation and destruction of physical health and quality of life. They're allowed to act with complete impunity and encouraged to do it publicly.
Thank you Kris! This is excellent information to help share with as many people as I can! I hope to see you soon on Political Drain, and Son's of Liberty, both are YouTube channels created by Vet's that your voice would be welcome on! And, if not already schools should have, "On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century" by Timothy D. Snyder, as well as, "Stamped From The Beginning" by Ibram X. Kendi, in their classrooms and as part of required reading!