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This Thanksgiving, let us give thanks for the most extraordinary gift of all: each other. When the world tries to dim our light, we shine brighter together, writes John Casey.
In the 1980s and early ‘90s, AIDS victims and gay and bi men were treated as pariahs, not only by society, but also by health care individuals, and most especially by the federal government. Ronald Reagan ignored the crisis, U.S. Senators condemned gay men, and many doctors wouldn't treat AIDS patients.
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Nurses left food outside their hospital rooms, and custodians refused to clean their rooms. Homeless shelters refused to admit them. Families disowned them.
When I talk to people who lived through those dark days, and who had partners, loved ones, and friends who died, many credit lesbians for stepping in to help when others stepped out. There had always been a perception, true or untrue, that lesbians and gay men didn’t always see eye-to-eye, and that was proven false when lesbians, en masse, cared for their stricken queer siblings.
Related: Remembering the AIDS Caregivers as They Age
The LGBTQ+ community isn't homogenous. Right now, our trans siblings need us to step up and help them during these dark days, and what are bound to be ominous days and years ahead.
In these past years, writing for The Advocate, I am working to be a better ally to transgender people. I use the word “working” as opposed to something past tense because I continually am learning more — and want to know as much as I can about these special human beings.
People are afraid of the unknown, and a majority of Americans don’t know a trans person. Few are willing to take the time to get to know them. There are those like House Speaker Mike Johnson who, with a so-called Christian thought, bans trans people from their appropriate bathrooms. He doesn’t even consider the person, the indignity, the humiliation. But those of us old enough are familiar with the days when anyone who was queer was burdened with shame.
After the election and at the end of a company-wide meeting by equalpride (the parent company of The Advocate, Out, and Pride.com), the floor was opened to share how we felt about the results.
I sensed a great deal of pain and worry, and rightly so. Many in the company are younger, and in their short lives, they’ve only witnessed success for our community.
I raised my hand to speak. As the “grandfather” of the teams, I shared how dark things used to be. How I had to meet dates in dark street corners. How I lived in fear of being outed. And how two guys I worked with started to look pale and thin, and then one day they just never came back to work. They just disappeared and died.
There was so much agony on so many levels. I never dreamed one day I would be proud to be gay, and even more startling and unbelievable, I’d be writing for The Advocate. And more emotionally, how happy I am to be part of the “G” in LGBTQ+.
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As I reflect on this Thanksgiving, I find myself overwhelmed with gratitude for the beautiful, vibrant, and resilient community I am so proud to be part of. The LGBTQ+ family is not a monolith but a tapestry of interweaving identities, stories, and lives lived authentically and courageously. Far from being a cult, as some would heartlessly paint us, we are bound not by coercion but by love — love for ourselves, love for each other, and love for a world where everyone can simply be.
We have endured, and we have thrived. Through the searing heartbreak of the AIDS crisis, the silent suffocation of "don't ask, don't tell," the relentless fight for marriage equality, the current fight for gender-affirming care, and the daily courage it takes to live authentically, we have proven again and again that our strength lies in our unity and our unyielding commitment to love. Even as the shadow of Project 2025 looms over us, threatening to unravel the hard-won rights and freedoms that define us, we cannot — and will not — be defeated. We have weathered dark days before, and we will find our way through these too, side by side, shoulder to shoulder.
This Thanksgiving, let us give thanks for the most extraordinary gift of all: each other. When the world tries to dim our light, we shine brighter together. When they seek to divide us, we grow closer.
We are a community of love, resilience, and boundless hope. And as long as we have one another, we will continue to fight — not just for survival, but for the joyous, loving, and equitable future we know is possible. This season, may we hold that gratitude close, knowing that love will always light our way.
