Somehow, 2018 is looking a lot like a full revolution, with young people of many colors and classes protesting nationwide. There's a rebellion happening in politics, sports, entertainment, and schools. From #MeToo to #NeverAgain, from our workplaces to our social media channels, leading this wonderfully intersectional revolution is a group of LGBT-plus change-makers more diverse than mainstream media has ever seen. We could have honored thousands of them, but picked just one for every state in the country (and D.C.) as our 2018 Champions of Pride.
Alabama

Alaska


Arizona

Arkansas

California

Colorado

Connecticut

Delaware

District of Columbia

Florida

Georgia

Hawaii

Idaho

Illinois

Indiana

Iowa
Sean Finn -- who courageously came out as transgender during his sophomore year in his hometown of Marshalltown, Iowa -- first gained national attention in 2016, when he spoke out about the difficulties trans teens face trying to navigate through high school. (At the time, North Carolina's controversial bathroom bill was being introduced, which prohibited people from using restrooms that did not match the gender assigned at birth). So, after Finn graduated and began attending the University of Iowa, he formed the Trans Alliance, a social and activism group for transgender students.
Finn told the Iowa City Press-Citizen that he formed the group because many young trans people "don't necessarily feel comfortable acknowledging they're trans in public spaces... So, it's still really difficult to bring people together."
Since starting the group, Finn has worked with other UI Trans Inclusivity Taskforce members to increase the number of gender neutral restrooms on the UI campus by close to 100; created Trans@Iowa, a resource website; has educated over 1,000 students, staff, and community members through trans awareness trainings and workshops; helped create the Trans Student Support Fund through the Dean of Students office, which provides trans students with funds to change their name and gender marker on legal documents; and created QUEERnival -- the school's first LGBTQ+ resource and information fair.
In addition to Finn's work with the university, he co-authored a policy brief recommending ways to improve LGBTQ student experiences to the Iowa City Community School District and generated new and improved ways for trans business owners in the U.S. to become certified LGBT Business Enterprises, as an intern for the National LGBT Chamber of Commerce (NGLCC).
"I could pass, but my passion is advocacy and activism, and to not identify myself as trans would sort of fly in the face of the [that]," Finn told the Register. "Introducing cis people to trans people is what is going to change public opinion. ... I own who I am. I am not ashamed to be trans."
Kansas

Kentucky

Louisiana

Maine

Maryland

Massachusetts

Eventually, she made it to Boston in time to successfully end her 48-day journey by crossing the Boston Marathon finish line. At the time she told BuzzFeed, "I just kept thinking, One more push, one more push. If I make it to the end I don't have to [push] anymore." It's that perseverance that Little says she's most proud of, "A champion, to me, is someone who consistently faces a challenge head-on when everything is stacked against them. It's rising up when nobody wanted you to. You're a champion when you succeed in one thing, and find thrill in doing it again and again, in a hundred different ways."
Michigan

Minnesota

Mississippi

As a cisgender white woman, she acknowledges her privilege, but says no LGBT person really feels "safe" in the ultra-religious and conservative Southern town. "It's dangerous to be LGBT anywhere -- but it's super dangerous here because we actually have a law on the books that says we're allowed to be discriminated against," McDaniel explains, referencing Mississippi's H.B. 1523 that allows religious justifications for discrimination against LGBT people. Still, the denial of the parade was particularly notable for occurring in Starkville: After all, in 2014, the college town became the first in the state to explicitly name sexual orientation and gender identity and expression in a resolution supporting equality, which declares discrimination "anathema to the public policy of the City."
Although stunned by the decision, McDaniel says she "knew that we had people in places of power that we could talk to -- so I knew I wasn't going to go down without a fight, that was for fucking sure." Indeed, the next day she was contacted by the Campaign for Southern Equality's founding executive director, Rev. Jasmine Beach-Ferarra, and famed civil rights attorney, Roberta "Robbie" Kaplan. Their message: "Let's fight 'em."
Armed with community support and a slew of media attention, McDaniel and her partner, Emily Turner, filed a federal lawsuit against the Aldermen. The added heat ultimately proved too hot for the board, who held a re-vote on March 6 and approved the event. On March 17, with a crowd of over 2,500, the city of Starkville held its very first LGBT Pride parade.
Missouri

Montana

Zenker, herself an attorney for Disability Rights Montana, argues the initiative is not only discriminatory but downright dangerous. "There are many cases across the country, where trans women are assaulted in restrooms," Zenker explains. "And it becomes a matter of safety for me."
The 60-year-old mother, photographer, and author of TransMontana: A Memoir of Transformation in Body, Mind & Spirit, also argues, "I-183 challenges my integrity as a human being and makes certain assumptions about trans people that are offensive and not true." Recognizing that bathroom bills are about far more than bathrooms, Zenker says, "the suggestion is there is not a place in our society, in our culture, for trans people. You don't want them in public places." Preventing trans people from meeting a biological imperative in public spaces forces them to stay home. Zenker is proud to be one of the Montanans "challenging an unjust piece of proposed legislation that is so demeaning and degrading and frankly, not necessary."
Nebraska

Nevada

New Hampshire

New Jersey

"Being a champion means advocating for what is right, just, and fair, no matter how unpopular," Prol says. "Everyone gets 70 or so years on this ball of dirt and water, flying around a big ball of fire in the sky. I think a champion is the person who uses that time to take up the mantle of empathy, compassion, and respect to make the world a better place than when they got here."
New Mexico

New York

"I also do a lot of television and I spent a lot of time in newsrooms," Jones explains, "One of the things that I noticed in most mainstream newsrooms is how non-representative of the country they are, and how nonrepresentative they are of the largest generation in American history -- that's millennials -- who are increasingly the future and in whose hands our country lies. That, to me, was a fundamental disconnect." She positions her "News for Social Change" as the answer, offering programming geared toward millennials and marginalized populations.
It's something she says she couldn't do before Trump took office -- because even LGBT networks said a program like The Last Sip was no longer really necessary. "I think what I was astounded by, and what I continue to be astounded by, is the degree to which a lot of LGBTQ people had also a false sense of security," she says. "Everyone thought that because symbolically, and policy-wise, we'd had ... real wins, that somehow, the game was over. I think we know now that the game is far from over. If we're going to have better outcomes that reflect all of us, we need to have different people in the news and deciding what is news."
As a trans woman of color, Jones says Pride is "about manifesting my truth. I think Pride is very important. You can be in your bubble and you can feel as if you know what LGBTQ is, but every year you see ... the range of our community, the power of our community, and the beauty of our community. That sense of strength that comes from that is something that I carry throughout the year."
North Carolina

As campaign manager to Marcus Brandon, the first out gay N.C. representative, Brockman said he saw firsthand what it was like to get bullied by members of your own caucus. "I've heard what people say about LGBT people when they think they're talking to a room full of straight people," he said. "I saw the things Marcus went through, and that made me even more fearful of what the reaction might be for me." Since then, Brockman has stood his ground amidst homophobia -- and used his experience as a catalyst for educating North Carolinians.
North Dakota

But ordinary people can be heroes too, Seidler believes, "A trans person who lives their identity and found happiness is a champion to me, because that person stands as hope for people who are not yet there. A trans ally who does nothing more than educate their own family and friends is a champion to me, because enough allies having those intimate conversations will create a systematic change that my activism alone will never do."
Additionally, Seidler says, we all must acknowledge the "privileges we have and make sure that all voices are lifted up. I'm given opportunities as a white, cis-passing, trans woman that [few] under the trans umbrella [are]. Being a champion also means stepping aside to let other people be champions. It means promoting other people's voices. It means actively working for equality for all marginalized communities, and not just the ones that impact your set of identities."
Ohio

Weidner -- a fierce activist for LGBT equality, especially trans rights, and a supporter of gender-neutral public bathroom facilities -- said upon her induction into the council, "I'm bigender and polysexual. I use they/them pronouns but prefer no pronouns. I'm an intersectional activist and artist who focuses on the rights of nonbinary and neurodiverse people as well as queer victims of abuse, religious persecution, and racism."
Oklahoma

Oregon

Pennsylvania

Rhode Island

South Carolina

Richardson, a 24-year-old Charleston, S.C., resident is a licensed social worker and LGBT activist, who says being a champion "isn't just about winning -- when we know the race is rigged. Rather, it's the spirit that compels us to keep fighting for the liberation of all people."
While pursuing social work degrees, Richardson interned at Time Out Youth Center, which serves LGBTQ youth in Charlotte, N.C., and for the Freedom Center for Social Justice, which is committed to the growth, safety and empowerment of the LGBTQ community. Richardson also cofounded the Transformative Teaching Collective, a Charleston-based cooperative that works with local schools, community groups and nonprofits, as well as government organizations, to provide social justice education.
South Dakota

Growing up in a town of 1,500 in rural Colorado, Fehringer was taunted and bullied, not for his sexuality but for his devotion to swimming. In a school where swimming was considered a "gay" sport he was the subject of homophobic slurs on a daily basis; as a result, Fehringer had been suffering from depression and crippling anxiety attacks since the age of 14 -- which only worsened as he realized he was gay. "The darkest moments of my life came when I laid in bed at night and asked God to take my life because of the amount of self-hatred I felt towards myself," he wrote for Outsports. After his freshman year in college, Fehringer was moved by the death of a cousin who committed suicide. Her passing helped him seek counseling. Eventually he came to terms with his sexuality, and inspired by Jesse Taylor, who three years prior, had become the first college athlete in South Dakota to come out publicly -- Fehringer decided to follow suit. His coach, Jason Mahowald, shrugged it off, replying, "Well, that's OK -- just as long as you invite my wife and me to your wedding someday." Fehringer's announcement was met with acceptance and support at USD. Out and proud now, Fehringer hopes he can be an inspiration to other young gay athletes, as Taylor was an inspiration to him. Mahowald told The Volante, a campus newspaper, "I hope at some point, we get to the point of society where it's not a news story that a Division I athlete came out and said they were gay."
Tennessee

Texas

Utah

France sees the new Queer Eye's mission as personal. Describing his family as "very Middle Eastern," he says there were only "two options for any Middle Eastern boy -- and that is you either become a doctor or a lawyer. Nothing else is OK." Although France's passion for fashion had already blossomed, he agreed to go to college: But secretly dropped out and enrolled in fashion school instead. He didn't tell his family for nearly a year. "They cried as if somebody had died," France remembers. "They thought it was a missed opportunity," both financially and socially (in terms of attracting a wife). "I told them I was going to be miserable if I did that for a living," France says, recalling that he promised he would be successful in fashion -- and he has been. He's the creative mind behind the successful brands Kingdom & State and Rachel Parcell Inc., which turned a $1 million profit in a mere six months. "Until my businesses really took off, my family, I think, just assumed I was selling printed T-shirts out of the back of my car," France jokes now. "They just couldn't wrap their head around how fashion could be profitable."
After Queer Eye premiered, the first thing he did was "call my mom to see if I made her proud. It's really important to me." The fact she is proud may be one of the reasons he's received messages from around the world--particularly from the Middle East, South Asia, China, Japan, and Malaysia -- saying, "We've never seen a version of this before on TV, and so we would love to know how we can handle this with our families."
France adds that he also gets lots of messages from parents, thanking him for allowing them to understand their children's experiences. "Our show is a really great way of showing these parents that nothing has to change, just because your child told you that they're gay."
France lives in Salt Lake City with his husband of nearly a decade. Of his Mormon in-laws from Wyoming, he jokes, "If I can convince them to see my side of the street and understand who I am without any prejudice, then I can do it for people in the South too." France believes "We just need to have these conversations with people. ... [Our clients] don't have to hate their ... neighbors. They just need to talk to them and find out what they're all about, and that can help them build relationships ... God, that sounds really sappy, I know," he laughs. "But it really is true."
Vermont

Coffey-Moore authored Black Femme Survival Guide, which they describe as "a workbook" dedicated to developing a community of "black and brown femme care." The book is just one component of a larger effort launched by Coffey-Moore -- with the help of a grant from Hampshire College's Ethics and the Common Good Project -- to "support black and brown queer femmes in learning, healing, and thriving together." In their Black Femme Survival project statement, Coffey-Moore wrote they "hope this multi-media approach will increase access to crucial resources for young femmes of color, in need of supportive and resilient community."
Virginia

After spending 131 days in treatment to deal with these issues, Bailar also came to terms with his gender identity. The problem was, Harvard had already recruited the high school junior to swim for the women's team. Although he'd recovered physically, Bailar was terrified coming out transgender would rescind the invitation. To his surprise, he was encouraged by both Harvard's men's and women's team coaches to compete on the men's team.
"I really just want to be visible so people know this is possible, that I exist," said Bailar, who made a guest appearance on The Ellen Show earlier this year. He clarified, "not 'I' as in Schuyler but 'I' as in a trans athlete. I mean, 'me' as a trans athlete, who's healthy, who's happy, who's out there, who's succeeding, who's doing what he loves, who gets to be who he is -- I want kids to see that."
Washington

West Virginia

Now a 21-year-old student at Wilson College in Chambersburg, Pa., Martin is making his mark on the school's soccer and volleyball teams. He's also continuing his activism -- which earned him the honor of being the school's first Newman Civic Fellow (the fellowship supports students who are "finding solutions for challenges facing communities throughout the country"). Martin also participates in Go! Athletes (a mentoring group for high school and collegiate LGBTQA athletes), is a member of Wilson College's student-athlete mentoring program, and represents the school at the APPLE Training Institute, an NCAA-funded student-athlete health and substance abuse prevention conference.
Wisconsin

Wyoming

Ostrum, who graduated with degrees in Spanish and gender studies, is now designing and implementing a Youth Leadership Council for Wyoming Equality, with the intent of providing queer and trans youth of color leadership skills. He foresees the project involving fun group activities such as wilderness camping and a "traveling theater troupe of drag monarchs and drama geeks, performing queer-centered plays at rural high schools."
















Charlie Kirk DID say stoning gay people was the 'perfect law' — and these other heinous quotes
These are some of his worst comments about LGBTQ+ people made by Charlie Kirk.