Sam Nordquist to be honored at Stonewall Inn in June
Communications Director for the National LGBTQ Task Force Cathy Renna said this year's focus on transgender trailblazers and changemakers shows the current climate for transgender individuals.
'As we continue to fiercely battle against attacks on our trans and nonbinary communities, we are honored to uplift their legacies. Their courage inspires our ongoing fight for liberation, both within the Task Force family and across every queer advocacy organization,' Renna said in a news release.
Nordquist traveled from Minnesota to New York but was subjected to violence and torture before he was killed. His body was then taken to a field in Yates County. This all happened between December 2024 and February 2025. Seven people have been charged with murder.
Seven individuals will be inducted into the National LGBTQ Wall of Honor at Stonewall Inn on June 26 — in celebration of Pride Month.
Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
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The Hill
3 hours ago
- The Hill
We all have a role in stopping political violence
The shootings of two Minnesota lawmakers and their spouses last month have shaken the political world and sparked a response from leaders of both parties. Yet, even as State House Speaker Melissa Hortman (D) and her husband, Mark, were laid to rest in St. Paul this week, the news cycle had already moved on to a new tragedy. We mustn't let this story fade, and we can't wait until the next attack. Political violence is absolutely unacceptable, and we have to do more than just condemn it; we must address it head-on now. America has a problem, and the shootings in Minnesota are a stark reminder that divisive rhetoric framing our political opponents as enemies has real consequences. As Minnesotans grieve and State Sen. John Hoffman (D) and his wife, Yvette, recover post-surgery, political leaders and voters in both parties must come together, denounce this violence and offer tangible solutions to lower the temperature of our national political discourse. Our country has always had a political violence problem. However, there has been a noticeable spike in public acts of political violence over the last decade. In 2017, a gunman shot and nearly killed Rep. Steve Scalise (R-La.) at a congressional baseball practice. A year later, police arrested a man after he mailed pipe bombs to high-profile Democratic officials. Just weeks before the 2020 election, the FBI intercepted a plan to kidnap Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer (D) and arrested eight paramilitary extremists. On Jan. 6, 2021, a mob of rioters stormed the Capitol to prevent the peaceful transfer of power. Dozens of Capitol police officers were viciously attacked. In October 2022, Paul Pelosi was hospitalized after an attacker broke into his home looking for then-Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.). During the 2024 presidential campaign, there were two assassination attempts against President Trump and bomb threats in Ohio after he openly promoted false and hateful claims about Haitian immigrants. Just this year alone, a conspiracy theorist torched Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro's (D) home, two Israeli diplomats were assassinated in Washington and, now, the tragedy in Minneapolis. If that sounds like a lot, it is. This is not normal. These incidents provide an ominous picture of our current political landscape and underscore how misinformation, hyper-polarization and the televised crackdown on political dissent spark real-life harm — a pattern we've seen repeated in communities across the country. Amid a tumultuous political landscape, threats against local elected officials have been on the rise. There has also been an increased number of threats levied against marginalized communities, including Black, Indigenous, Latino, immigrant, gay, and particularly against transgender people. Political violence is not only perpetrated by individuals and extremist groups, but by elected officials as well. Just last week, Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem allowed federal agents to forcibly remove Sen. Alex Padilla (D-Calif.) from her press conference and place him in handcuffs after the senator attempted to ask a question about the immigration raids and protests in Los Angeles. This sends a clear message: When you disagree with the administration publicly, you can expect to be manhandled by armed government agents. And President Trump's pardons of approximately 1,500 Jan. 6 defendants, including some who were convicted of violent actions, have created an atmosphere where certain types of violence are praised. Hate speech and violent rhetoric are also violence, as verbal threats significantly impact how someone can engage in the political process. While speaking about the ICE protests around the country, Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis (R) said on the Rubin Report podcast that drivers could run over protestors, two days before thousands of Floridians were set to join the 'No Kings' protests. Robust disagreement is important. The U.S. is full of different values, views, backgrounds and preferences, and still, hundreds of millions agree on the shared value that democracy — and not political violence — is how we resolve our disputes. The good news is that Americans are not as far apart as we think we are, and we have more in common than what divides us. Recent surveys consistently find that the vast majority of Americans across the political spectrum reject political violence. This spans political ideologies, age groups and identities. Americans agree that violence should never be a tool of democracy. To turn the tide, we must hold our elected leaders accountable for their violent speech and actions. Throughout U.S. history, progress has been achieved non-violently: when people have organized together, exercised their rights of free speech and assembly, participated in elections, and ensured that abusive power holders are held accountable. The women's suffrage movement, the labor rights movement and the Civil Rights movement are a testament to this, despite the intimidation and violence these movements faced along the way. These moments in history remind us that democracy is strongest when people push back together, not just in one place but collectively across the country. In our everyday lives, the best way to counter violence is through getting to know our neighbors and getting involved in our communities. Making the effort to inoculate yourself against disinformation is essential to turning down the temperature. Standing up against bigotry and hate is another way to fight back. When people are targeted with threats, violence and the taking away of their rights because of who they are, we must all speak out. Fortunately, we aren't in this fight alone. Organizations such as mine, among many other groups, work around the clock to monitor possible threats, deeply analyze the issues, and provide responses to violence and attacks on our freedoms. During the 2024 election, local, state and national organizations came together with thousands of volunteers to support people in voting without fearing for their safety. These coordinated responses show the power in national solidarity, where communities band together to speak out, act and protect each other across regions and identities. Change starts locally and takes time, but there is so much that we can do both collectively and as individuals. Our democracy works best when all voices can be heard. It's up to every one of us to reject political violence and intimidation in all of its forms — our elected officials must be brave and follow the lead of the majority of Americans. Virginia Kase Solomón is CEO of Common Cause.
Black America Web
4 hours ago
- Black America Web
What We Saw On Video Matters More Than The Sean Combs Verdict
Source: Kevin Mazur / Getty When news broke that Sean 'Diddy' Combs was found guilty of transportation to engage in prostitution but not guilty of sex trafficking and racketeering conspiracy, I knew exactly how this would play out. Some people would grab onto that partial verdict like a lifeline, ignoring every piece of truth we've seen and heard about who this man is and what he's done. Here's what I know: regardless of what the prosecution charged, we saw violence with our own eyes. Last year, from a 2016 surveillance video, we saw a man chase down, assault, and terrorize a woman. We saw him try to spin it. We saw him issue a hollow apology, not one rooted in real accountability but in crisis PR and damage control. What I also know is that our legal system is never the final word on whether something happened. Courtrooms are about what can be proven under narrow burdens of proof. But life, real life, is not always that neat. Some truths are so clear they do not need a courtroom to confirm them. This is not new. Time and again, we watch powerful men with money and nostalgia attached to their names dodge real accountability because too many people would rather protect an image than protect real people from harm. It happened with R. Kelly. It happened with Bill Cosby. It happens with Chris Brown. It's happening now with Diddy. And if we're honest, no verdict—not even a completely guilty one on every charge—would change the minds of some folks so long as they like the man's music, the vibe, the memories attached to a particular song. We need to sit with how dangerous that is. We can't keep screaming 'Protect Black women!' on our timelines while holding a permanent 'But not if I like his album' clause in our hearts. It doesn't work that way. It shouldn't. And yet it does — because this pattern is not just about celebrity. It's about what we've been taught to protect at all costs: the male ego, power, and image. Meanwhile, Black women and girls — and anyone else who dares stand up and say 'He hurt me' — are left to fend for themselves. To carry the weight of being believed or disbelieved. To hear people say, 'Well, they should've known what they were signing up for.' To watch whole communities twist themselves into moral pretzels to avoid facing the truth that sometimes the people we love to cheer for are the same people destroying lives behind closed doors — or, in this case, on camera. As an attorney, I take issue with what the prosecution charged in this case. Sex trafficking charges are notoriously hard to prove, especially against people of considerable wealth who've spent decades mastering the art of plausible deniability. It matters that we keep fighting for a system that works. But we can't let the courtroom be our only measure of the truth. We can't let the system's failures dictate what we know in our bones to be real. Source: Kevin Mazur / Getty Because the fact is, the legal system fails survivors every single day. And when the system does come through — when there is a video, when there is a confession, when there is a guilty plea, too many people still close their eyes and press play on the same old songs. I see people say, 'Well, everybody makes mistakes,' as if what we watched was a minor slip-up or an aberration of character, and not a pattern of calculated harm. I see people say, 'He apologized,' as if that insult of an apology did anything to repair what he caused. I see people say, 'He wasn't found guilty of sex trafficking, so it must not be true,' as if the truth begins and ends with a technicality in a courtroom. We need to tell the truth about how exhausting it is to watch Black women and girls and queer people be hurt again and again by the same type of man — only to see our own people run to protect him. To act like their empire matters more than our humanity. To act like the vibes are worth more than our safety. It shouldn't be this way. But the line we draw in the sand is ours alone to hold. So let me be clear about mine: Diddy will never get another dollar, another stream, another ounce of respect from me. Not because of what he was charged with, but because of what he did. Because of what I saw. Because sometimes the truth is undeniable — if we're brave enough to keep our eyes open. And to the people he's harmed — named and unnamed, known and unknown — I see you. I believe you. I send you my love and my solidarity. I know what it means to carry the burden of telling your truth, only to watch people pretend they didn't hear it. You are not alone. You are not invisible — not to me. Not to anyone willing to stand on what they know is right. To everyone still deciding what they'll do with this: What you do is yours to own. What you can live with is yours to carry. What your friends and family see when they watch you excuse this man—or any man like him—is up to you. As for me and my North Star? It's simple. I don't need a court to tell me what I know. I don't need a guilty verdict to validate what my eyes and my gut have already confirmed. I choose to stand on the side of the people he hurt. I choose to believe what I saw. I choose to let my values — not nostalgia or a playlist — guide me. Always and forever, it's a no. And it will remain a no. Because our community deserves better than this endless cycle of excuses and protection for violent men. Black women and girls deserve better. Survivors deserve better. And maybe if enough of us hold that line, one day we'll actually see the world reflect it too. Preston Mitchum is an attorney, writer, and advocate whose work focuses on the intersections of racial justice, gender equity, and LGBTQ+ rights. He is the Founder of PDM Consulting and a trusted voice on law, culture, and accountability. SEE ALSO: Why Sean Combs Was Never Going To Be Fully Held Accountable [Op-Ed] Diddy Please: Yes, You're A Bozo For Cheering For Sean Combs SEE ALSO What We Saw On Video Matters More Than The Sean Combs Verdict was originally published on
Black America Web
4 hours ago
- Black America Web
Op-Ed: We Have To Keep Sonya Massey's Name Alive
Last summer, on July 6, we learned of a new reason for the police to kill an unarmed Black person: a pot of hot water. Sonya Massey, then 36, called 911 when she suspected an intruder at her home in Springfield, Illinois. According to an Illinois State Police summary of her shooting death, when police arrived, deputies did indeed see a car at Massey's home that looked broken into. After knocking on the door, the two officers claimed they found her 'distraught and not thinking clearly.' But instead of treating her as a person in need of help, she was ultimately treated as a criminal, and after an exchange, subsequently executed. Sangamon County Deputy Sean Grayson, reportedly roughly 10 feet from Massey, motioned to a pot on the stove in her kitchen. At one point, Grayson responds to Massey, 'Getting away from your hot, steaming water.' In response, the summary says she repeats twice, 'I rebuke you in the name of Jesus,' Massey said twice. Grayson greeted that with, 'I swear to God. I will shoot you right in your f—— face.' Source: Source: Wikipedia / Wikipedia / Source: Wikipedia / Wikipedia And so he did, but not before she dropped the pot and crouched below a line of cabinets with her hands in the air after apologizing as he drew his gun and pointed it at her. Though she did get back up and grabbed the pot again in defense, when she threw the water, Grayson's response was to fire his gun three times – one of the bullets went directly into her face. If this does not sound barbaric enough, after the shooting, when the second deputy in the home claimed he planned to retrieve a medical kit, Grayson told him not to. The other deputy did anyway and remained with Massey until medical help arrived. Grayson never bothered to help the distressed woman he was sent there to help, but ended up shooting her in the face. He has since been indicted on charges of first-degree murder, and more recently, a new pre-trial date has been set, and he will stand trial Oct. 20 for the murder of Sonya Massey. Massey's family attended the brief pre-trial hearing before Seventh Circuit Court Presiding Judge Ryan Cadagin last month. Sontae Massey, a cousin of Sonya Massey, told reporters, 'We're going to be at all of the hearings. They could have a hundred hearings between now and Oct. 20. We'll be at each and every one of them.' In February, the family reached a $10 million settlement with officials in Sangamon County, Illinois. As much as they seek justice for her killing, however, a separate interview highlights that beyond her victimhood, Sonya Massey was a mother and a loving person who has left behind a hole in the hearts of family, friends, and the people in her community. Speaking with NewsChannel20 in Springfield, Illinois, ahead of the one-year anniversary of her shooting, Massey's family described her as 'a hard-working mother who ensured her kids were well taken care of.' Indeed, her son, Malachi Hill-Massey, spoke fondly of his late mom in an interview with the Springfield State Journal-Register ahead of his high school graduation. 'She showed me ways of her being caring,' Hill-Massey explained. 'She's a helper, a carer, for everybody. She would help somebody before she would help herself.' He said he finished school early 'for his mom' and Sonya's mother, Donna Massey, said in the same interview, 'We're so happy that he's made his mama proud,' she said. 'We can feel her shining down on us. I know she's happy. And he has a plan: he will attend trade school for heating, ventilation, and air conditioning, citing his mom as his motivation to succeed. Still, it was hard to read him say, 'I think about it all the time,' about her killing. 'I'm young. I need my mom still.' And as a grieving son, I related to him saying he is following the trial 'as much as I can,' but 'I'm still grieving. It's a wearing process. I've lost people before, but when it's someone you're with literally every single day, someone I talked to every single day, it's different.' Source: Sangamon County Jail / Sangamon County Jail As for her shooter, Sean Grayson, charged with Sonya Massey's murder: 'You can't say it's not senseless. You were supposed to be protecting her. How could you turn your gun on her? Why would you even think about lethal force before a taser? He could have tased my mom. He could have pepper-sprayed her, anything before shooting her.' As frustrating as her loss remains, I take heed to her cousin Sontae Massey's caution that while the world remembers Sonya as 'the tiny woman speaking to the police in the final moments of her life, she's so much more than that.' 'I miss her everyday,' Sontae shared. 'I miss the Sonya that, I would go over to mom's house, and we would crack jokes, and she would make fun of me and she would share a laugh with me. I miss that Sonya.' The family said that they feel the hype of Sonya's name has started to die down, thus doing interviews like that one to do everything in their power to keep her name alive. That is admirable, especially given the circumstances, but let us do our part to help keep her name alive. Not only as a victim of police brutality, but as a loving mother, daughter, cousin, and friend who brightened the lives of the people around her, and like far too many Black people in this country, continues to have their light unjustly and untimely dimmed. SEE ALSO: Justice For Sonya Massey: Activists Demand Killer Ex-Cop Stay In Jail After Sean Grayson's Pre-Trial Release Ben Crump Releases Statement On New Footage Showing Sonya Massey in Mental Health Crisis Before Fatal Shooting SEE ALSO Op-Ed: We Have To Keep Sonya Massey's Name Alive was originally published on
