PAPER DEC. 12 - 23, 2024
FACES OF RESISTANCE
RIGHTS | PG. 7
COUPLE S | PG. 4
As Trump prepares for a second term, locals are fighting back through love, art and organizing.
ABORTION ACCESS | PG. 9
GENDER-AFFIRMING PORTRATIS | PG. 12
CITY LIFE
THURSDAY
Outback Takeover @ Doggos Dog Park & Pub (GSO) 6 p.m.
Doggos is calling all Aussies and Cattle Dogs (including mixes) for a takeover! Don’t miss the group photo at 7
Scan the QR code to find more events at triad-citybeat.com/local-events DEC. 12 - 14
FRIDAY
A Christmas Carol: The Musical @ High Point Theatre (HP) 7:30 p.m.
Bah! Humbug! A Christmas Carol: The Musical returns for its 10th year with High Point Community Theatre’s musical version of Charles Dickens’ classic holiday tale.
SATURDAY
Nature Navigators: Nature Napping @ Piedmont Environmental Center (HP) 10 a.m.
PEC is inviting young naturalists on a wintertime walk on the trails where they’ll create nature journals about organisms that become dormant during the winter season. All children must be accompanied by an adult.
Honor the late Yvonne Johnson, Greensboro city councilwoman and former mayor, at her homecoming
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Receive weekly updates on breaking News stories with Monday Mix, stay in the loop with our curated events calendar The Weekender, and view our headlining stories with TCB This Week.
OPINION
EDITOR’S NOTEBOOK
D Resistance is all around us
oing this job can be really
depressing at times. On a daily basis, I get notifications, press releases, news alerts that show me in real time how systems of power are wielded by a select few to dehumanize, to destabilize, to degrade people’s lives. And it’s draining.
But if you take the time to look around, you’ll find that resistance is everywhere.
If
It’s in the way that we hold doors open for each other. It’s in the way that we call our friends, make food for those who are sick, donate to needy causes, ask and receive favors from strangers.
It’s in the way we talk to our children, greet our neighbors and tip our workers.
It’s in the way that we move through the world.
This week, our entire issue is focused
on these acts of resistance, big and small. Because the revolution isn’t always televised like in the cases of South Korea and Syria. Often it goes unnoticed, undocumented.
But we know that the resistance is here. It always has been.
So we’re highlighting the people and organizations that are doing exactly those things here in our communities.
We’re showing people the delicate, yet steadfast love that couples have for each other. We’re telling the stories of undocumented people who are fighting for their right to stay in the places they call home. We’re showing how just taking photographs can be a form of self-actualization, an act of visibilizing an entire community.
Because as Brian wrote in his column for this week, resistance isn’t a thing you do once or twice. It’s a way of living. It’s our identities. It’s woven into my DNA in the same way that my hair is black and my skin is tan. You just can’t see it. Because instead, we live it.
Every single day.
Brian
brian@triad-city-beat.com
PUBLISHER EMERITUS
Allen Broach
allen@triad-city-beat.com OF COUNSEL
Jonathan Jones EDITORIAL
MANAGING EDITOR
Sayaka Matsuoka sayaka@triad-city-beat.com
CITYBEAT REPORTER
Gale Melcher
gale@triad-city-beat.com
Chris Rudd chris@triad-city-beat.com
Heather Schutz
heather@triad-city-beat.com
TCBTIX
Nathaniel Thomas nathaniel@triad-city-beat.com
CONTRIBUTORS
Carolyn de Berry, John Cole, Owens Daniels, James Douglas, Michelle Everette, Luis H. Garay, Destiniee Jaram, Kaitlynn Havens, Jordan Howse, Matt Jones, Autumn Karen, Jen Sorensen, Todd Turner
WEBMASTER
Sam LeBlanc
ART
ART DIRECTOR
Aiden Siobhan aiden@triad-city-beat.com
COVER: Design by Aiden Siobhan
by Sayaka Matsuoka
For better, for worse LGBTQ+ couples are strengthening their marriages in the wake of Trump’s election
by Sayaka Matsuoka | sayaka@triad-city-beat.com
or better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish. ‘Till death do us part.
For many LGBTQIA+ couples across the country, their wedding vows reflect acts of resistance in and of themselves. It wasn’t even a decade ago that same-sex marriage was legalized in this country when the Supreme Court ruled in favor of it in 2015. But in the wake of Trump’s re-election, many couples are strategizing ways to ensure that their marriages are secure.
According to some legal experts and LGBTQ+ advocacy organizations, same-sex marriage isn’t likely to be overturned anytime soon. The Supreme Court’s 2015 Obergefell v. Hodges decision struck down state bans on same-sex marriage and legalized it in all 50 states. The decision also required states to honor out-of-state same-sex marriage licenses. The National Center for Lesbian Rights argues that even if Obergefell were to be overturned, it wouldn’t invalidate existing marriages. But that hasn’t stopped queer couples from fearing the worst.
In the days after the election, couples took to the internet to research how to ensure their marriages were strong, looking up phrases like “power of attorney” and “living wills.” According to Google Trends, the search for the phrase “gay marriage” spiked on Nov. 6. Other trending searches around that time include questions like “Can gay marriage be overturned in the US?” and “What will happen to gay marriage?”
In the Triad, TCB spoke to three couples who are asking some of these same questions and looking at ways to protect their relationships as Trump prepares to take office once again.
“No one is going to steal my love, but I am also going to fight for it,” one spouse told TCB
Ana de León, 42 and Cathryn Bennett, 38
weetness.
That’s what Ana de León wrote that she was looking for in her Tinder profile back in 2017 when she met her wife Cathryn Bennett on the app for the first time.
“It’s a really funny thing to write on a Tinder profile,” de León laughs as Bennett sits across from her at their dining room table.
But observing the couple interact with each other, it’s the perfect word to describe them. As Bennett sits bundled up in a yellow-and-grey plaid jacket, de León buzzes about, fixing her partner a cup of tea and making sure she’s comfortable.
It’s cold in the house because their heater broke the other day and de León wants to make sure her wife is okay. Bennett, who sits by the window, smiles sweetly as her wife tends to her, something that she’s been doing more since she broke her leg a few months ago.
“I have felt committed to Ana since Day 1,” Bennett says. “Formalizing that through a legal process was not something that was high on our priorities list.”
But a few years ago, when Bennett was on a work trip and passed by a Taco Bell — one of de León’s favorite places — she had the sudden urge to marry her partner of seven years.
“I just missed her so much and when I got back to my hotel room, I called her and I asked, ‘Hey, do you want to get Taco Bell married to me?’”
And in July, the two got hitched in their backyard during their annual Fourth of July get-together. They surprised their guests and in a way, surprised each other.
“Being a curmudgeonly gay person, I’ve lived a ton of my life where gay marriage wasn’t legal,” de León explains. “So I used to think, Why do I need it now? It always felt like something I didn’t need.”
But then, Roe v. Wade was overturned.
“I never thought that would happen,” de León says. “And then I thought that gay marriage could be something that could be taken away.”
Now a married couple, the two are working to ensure that their union is as strong as it can be.
In the weeks since the election, Bennett and de León have met with an attorney to update their wills and draft up healthcare and financial power-of-attorney documents.
According to NC law, if a person dies without a will, their assets, which can include vehicles, bank accounts, stocks and bonds, furniture and jewelry, get passed on to their surviving spouse and children, or the spouse and parents if there are no children. But if gay marriage is overturned or gets relegated to the state level like in the case of Roe v. Wade, couples’ rights could be in danger.
“The more entangled we are from a legal perspective, the harder it would be for any legislative action to erase us,” Bennett says.
That’s why Bennett and de León recently got paperwork that says if one of them can’t make decisions for themselves because they are sick or incapacitated, then the other can do so on their behalf. Their next step is getting Bennett’s name onto the house deed.
For Bennett, whose family is “deeply conservative,” she says having de León be the primary decision maker for her makes sense.
“I know my family loves me,” Bennett says, “but they don’t seem to want to understand my queerness and that identity is central to who I am and how I navigate the world.”
Talking about difficult topics like this — death, injury, wills, inheritance — is something that queer couples are used to, de León says.
“There are safety realities and precautions you have to take to keep each other safe,” de León says.
For example, as a masculine-presenting person, de León says she has to be careful about what kind of places she stops at with Bennett as they are driving around the country. With a straight couple, that may not ever be the case.
“There are little things that are very practical that happen in queer relationships and queer life and queer existence,” de León says. “So we talk about hard things all the time.”
That’s why, in the aftermath of the election, de León wishes that some people who voted for Trump, understood the fear and anxieties that many queer people are feeling now.
“I empathize with people who made economic decisions; things are really hard right now,” de León says. “But it’s also hard when they can’t see that things are hard for queer folks. I hate that the
Cathryn Bennett and Ana de de León in their home.
PHOTO BY SAYAKA MATSUOKA
issue became binarized. I’m mad that it became an either/or when we’re all struggling right now.”
For both of them, talking about their love, their relationship, their identities is the antidote, their way of resisting.
“Acts of queer resistance manifest more in just trying to live authentically,” Bennett says.
And they see it every day. When Bennett injured herself, their friends were quick to ask if they could bring over meals for them. One couple made them homemade meals for six weeks.
“That’s the resistance,” Bennett says. “It’s showing up for each other. We might look a little different, but we’re just like you.”
Terrell Sanders, 34 and Ryan Smith, 39
The first time Ryan Smith tried to convey his feelings to his husband Terrell Sanders, he did it through song.
It was Christmas Eve in 2013, and they were singing karaoke together. He chose three songs: “Teenage Love Affair” by Alicia Keys, “Teenage Dream” by Katy Perry and “Young and Beautiful” by Lana del Rey. The only problem was that Sanders had stepped out to smoke for all three songs.
“It was just poor timing,” Smith says.
But later that night — on Christmas Day — he was able to tell Sanders how he felt. A few years later, in 2016, the two got married. They snuck into the Greensboro Arboretum and did their ceremony under a gazebo surrounded by friends and family.
But for Sanders, the concept of marriage was one that he hadn’t really considered before then.
“I wasn’t interested in marriage at all,” he says. “Just thinking of the history of marriage and the exchange of property.”
But 11 years later, he’s glad that they tied the knot, given the post-election circumstances.
the protection of contraception, same-sex marriage, and, previously, abortion.
“He said that things based on the 14th Amendment needed to be reviewed,” Smith says. “That struck fear in me.”
“I’ve been thinking about those legal pieces,” Sanders says. “No one is going to steal my love, but I am also going to fight for it.”
While the two haven’t met with an attorney yet, they are planning on getting more information about powers of attorney. During the recent open-enrollment period for health insurance, Smith ensured that Sanders was a beneficiary on a lot of his policies. He’s also been looking into getting a living will and getting Sanders’s name on the house deed, which currently only lists his name.
For Smith, the overturning of Roe v. Wade represented a seismic shift in what was possible.
“It kind of felt like a slap in the face,” he says. “Like you work this hard, and we’ve made so many strides, but it can be taken away just like that. That to me was the scariest part.”
During the deliberations on whether or not to overturn Roe, Justice Clarence Thomas pointed to two clauses in the 14th Amendment which relate to due process, and thus,
The acts of resistance Sanders is focused on are community-oriented. He’s thinking about sanctuary cities for queer and trans people. He’s prioritizing fighting for this place he calls home, no matter how bad things get.
“White, well-to-do folks are like, ‘Well, we’ll just move,’” Sanders says. “The migrant mentality. But NC has been my home. It will be where I’m buried. I choose to fight for it. We deserve to be here, and we deserve to fight to belong.”
In addition to researching practical ways to protect their marriages, Smith says he’s noticed lots of queer people looking to the past for answers.
“People are educating themselves about queer history and things that have happened in the past like lavender marriages,” he says.
A marriage of convenience, lavender unions were ones in which two queer people — a man and a woman — got married to conceal their sexuality to protect themselves. These days, some young people have reclaimed the concept to lighten financial burdens.
But for marriages like theirs that are out, loud and proud, Sanders says he hopes they can be a model for others.
“I feel like our love breaks precedent,” he says. “I think our love is here to teach others compassion, grace and allow them more mirrors into themselves instead of the heteronormative ones they’re forced to look into. I think people congregate to the love that we have.”
That’s why for those who voted for Trump, the two have a strong message.
“I understand that you voted in your self interest and you thought this was the best thing for you,” Smith says through tears.
“But I hope that one day, you don’t have to be afraid of someone telling you that you don’t matter.”
Smith says that living through another Trump term means leaning more into found family.
“This experience taught me who my family is,” he says.
And he and Sanders want other queer people to know that the community is here for them, that they don’t have to retreat back into their closets. They certainly won’t.
“Our love is something we have fought for, cultivated,” Sanders says.
“And grown and changed,” Smith adds.
“And we can’t do that in a closet,” Sanders says. “We’re too big as people, physically and spiritually.”
Beth Kincaid, 65 and Gia Gaster, 55
Beth Kincaid and Gia Gaster are each other’s first and last same-sex relationship. Both of them were previously married to men and have children from their first marriages. But when they met each other,
Terrell Sanders and Ryan Smith recreate the iconic photo of Richard and Mildred Loving, the couple whose Supreme Court case legalized interracial marriage in the US.
PHOTO BY SAYAKA MATSUOKA
Beth Kincaid and Gia Gaster have been together since the late ‘90s.
PHOTO BY SAYAKA MATSUOKA
everything changed.
“I realized, Oh, that’s different than what I feel for my husband,” Gaster says. “I realized that I loved him sort of like a brother, and I’d never been in love before so I didn’t know what that was like. So Beth is really the first person I’ve ever fallen in love with.”
The two first met in the late ’90s when Kincaid was working as a caseworker within the Guilford County health system and Gaster was a school-bus driver. The latter had wanted to start an anti-bullying campaign within the schools and that’s how they met.
“It’s not that I ever really was thinking about looking for a woman,” Kincaid says. “I just happened to fall in love.”
These days the two describe themselves as bisexual, an identity that took some time to understand.
“I can be either way, but I kind of see it as more falling in love with the person,” Kincaid explains.
Gaster, who is 10 years younger, explains how she thought she might be bisexual much earlier in life but never acted on it. For her first marriage, she married her high school sweetheart, a man she considered her best friend.
In 2020, Gaster and Kincaid got married after being together for two decades.
“I think we publicly came out when Trump was president,” Gaster says. “We came out on Facebook.”
People in Kincaid’s private practice knew the two were together, and their kids knew too. But publicly, they had never really made an announcement until then.
It’s partially because they’ve been together for so long, Gaster explains. Since 1999, Gaster has been shopping in the men’s section for clothes and presenting as more masculine. When Trump was elected in 2016, she noticed that more people became emboldened. People tried to stop her from using the women’s dressing room. One person refused to hold the door open for her and called her a “dyke.” Now, with a second Trump presidency and the coinciding rise in anti-trans hate, she’s concerned that some of the backlash will be directed towards her too.
“I’m fearful that somebody may try to hurt me because they don’t understand what a
transperson even is,” Gaster says.
Similar to the other couples, Gaster and Kincaid saw the overturning of Roe v. Wade as a pivotal moment that opened the floodgates for other potential attacks on civil rights. But with their combined professions as an attorney and licensed therapist, they’re trying to use their skills to stay grounded about what’s possible in one term.
“I tell my clients to not worry until something happens,” Kincaid says.
But the two are also cautious. They’re planning on having their trusts and powers-ofattorney documents done by the end of the year.
“We do need to watch and we need to be prepared,” Gaster says.
At her practice with Cheryl Davis, Gaster says she’s seen more same-sex couples come in for consultation than ever before. They’re asking what kinds of documents they need or what protections they should be putting in place. As an estate attorney, these aren’t typical processes that Gaster oversees, but says that the firm may start putting together packages for same-sex couples if they see a need for it.
“A lot of the rhetoric that’s going around is a little bit exaggerated,” Gaster says. “But I think the fear is real.”
Personally, Gaster says that they’ll be okay, but that they are frustrated by those who voted for Trump without considering the impact it would have on marginalized people.
“That’s the hard thing,” Gaster says. “When people you love vote against you.”
And as they face the next four years, the two say that they’ll be able to resist because of their commitment to each other.
“If we focus on the love and the positivity, we can get through whatever,” Kincaid says. “It would be nice if everyone would come together and support everybody rather than the hate.”
And that’s the thing Gaster wants people to remember.
“It’s not even about politics,” she says. “When I talk about me being feared, about being attacked or me being masculine or my marriage being in jeopardy… that’s not politics, that’s my life.”
As Trump prepares to take office once again, local organizations are fighting to protect the undocumented community
by Gale Melcher | gale@triad-city-beat.com
For the last two decades, Brajan Funes has called Winston-Salem home, but he was born in San Pedro Sula, Honduras in 1996.
Two years later, in October 1998, Hurricane Mitch devastated Honduras forcing Funes’ family to seek a better life in the United States.
But their family came in pieces: First his father, then his mother.
Funes grew up in the care of his aunt in Honduras until he eventually reunited with his parents in the US at 4 years old. He said it felt like he was meeting them for the first time. He has two younger siblings, both born in the US, who have all the benefits of being citizens while Funes and his parents do not.
When Funes was 16, he spoke to a military recruiter, eager to join the ranks.
Where do I sign? was all he could think about, he said.
That’s when his parents sat him down and had “the talk,” he said.
You’re not a US citizen, they told him.
You’re not going to be allowed to enlist.
You’re not going to be allowed to vote.
Now an investment manager at Wells Fargo, Funes is acutely aware of the threat the next administration poses to him and his family.
Funes is currently able to live in the US because he qualifies for Temporary Protected Status, or TPS. Immigrants from countries that have suffered environmental disasters, armed conflicts or other extreme circumstances may be designated for TPS.
Despite his right to be here, people have told him that he doesn’t “belong here” and that he should “go home” to Honduras.
The thing is, Honduras isn’t home, Funes said. His mom, dad, brother and sister are the only family he’s got. And the community that he’s grown up with here, that’s his family.
But with Trump back in the White House, six conservative justices on the Supreme Court, and Republican majorities in both the House and Senate, families like Funes’s could be threatened.
During the campaign trail, Trump and his VP pick, JD Vance, both targeted immigrants — largely undocumented ones — pinning all of the country’s issues on their backs.
“We’re going to stop doing mass grants of Temporary Protected Status,” Vance said at an Arizona rally in October.
Trump has also promised mass deportations. On Dec. 9, Trump’s “border czar” Tom Homan threatened to prosecute Mayor Brandon Johnson of Chicago, a sanctuary city, if he continues to “harbor and conceal” asylum seekers.
“Do not impede us,” Homan warned.
Trump and his allies have also targeted birthright citizenship, a longstanding right ensured by the 14th Amendment that grants citizenship to those born on American soil.
“We’re kind of trying to do two things at once,” said Nikki Marín Baena, the co-director of Siembra NC, a grassroots activism organization born in 2017 as a response to the first Trump administration. “One is just to be with people in the moment that they’re in, and some people are afraid, and for reasons that make a lot of sense. And some people
are like, what do we do now?”
For those who are undocumented like Funes, organizations like Siembra NC and Church World Service are working to fight back against the incoming Trump administration and keep their neighbors safe.
“Folks are scared, I think there’s a lot of trauma from the first administration and what happened,” said Madison Burke, a spokesperson for CWS. “I encourage people to really think about the long game. Not just the next couple of months, but ‘How can I plug in for the next couple years?’”
Boots on the ground, doing the work
Since 2017, Siembra NC has expanded their work across the state to Alamance, Durham, Forsyth, Guilford, Orange, Wake, Randolph and Rockingham counties. Siembra’s work is especially crucial during a time where immigrant communities are targeted and maligned, particularly with the passage of HB 10, which went into effect Dec. 1 and forces sheriffs to detain immigrants accused of violent crimes so that they can be detained by ICE.
During a recent Siembra NC member meeting in Durham, organizers welcomed new people to the meeting, shared information and offered support. Organizer Maria Peralta brought a variety of homemade tamales.
Co-director Marín Baena told TCB that the organization’s early work started out as a 24-hour hotline for people to call if they thought an ICE vehicle was lurking outside.
“In the early days, the rumors would get so bad sometimes that people would stay home from work, keep their kids home from school, and so we really wanted people to, as much as possible, be able to live their normal lives,” she said.
Marín Baena’s parents came to the US in 1973 from Columbia and because they came in an earlier wave of immigrants, they were able to get green cards and become US citizens, she explained. She was born in New Jersey where her parents had jobs in a union textile factory.
“When I think about the next 10 or 20 years of me or an organization like Siembra, it’s not just to survive the Trump administration,” Marín Baena said. “It’s to organize more people into believing that — as workers who are creating profit for businesses — you deserve to live a good life, and you deserve to live a life without fear, and that you deserve to live a life where you have access to healthcare.”
For people like Nayely Franco, the organization has felt like a lifeline.
Originally from Mexico, Franco’s family also came to the United States in pieces: first
Brajan Funes has been living in the US as an undocumented immigrant since his parents fled Honduras in 1998.
her father, and then her two older siblings plus her mother, who had just given birth to Nayely.
The family lived with Franco’s uncle in Chapel Hill, which was a “really nice city,” Franco said, but they didn’t know other people like them.
“I knew that we were not citizens, but I just didn’t understand exactly what we were. But I also understood that I could get in trouble and separated from my family if I disclosed that I wasn’t a citizen,” she said. “I was always scared of cops, if I’m being honest.”
That fear never really went away.
In elementary school, she paused while filling out paperwork where she had to choose her citizenship status.
“That’s when it kind of somewhat hit me that, like, Okay, I’m different,” she said.
Because the topic of their status was taboo, she couldn’t talk to her parents or siblings about it, she explains.
“Because I was scared most of the time, I have a really bad issue with trauma blockage as a defense mechanism to cope with the fear and anxiety around being undocumented,” Franco explained.
One of the most anxiety-inducing instances was in middle school, when Franco was one of the students selected to go to France to study abroad. It was a great opportunity and news that would have filled most kids with elation. But Franco had a sinking feeling that she wouldn’t be able to go.
“I told my family about it and they were like, ‘Oh yeah, obviously you can’t leave out of the country because you won’t be let back in,’’” she recalled.
Despite the difficulties of her childhood, Franco’s “biggest dream” had always been to go to college. Her “last hope” was a nonprofit organization called Latinx Ed, which offered her a scholarship for undocumented students to study in certain states. She ended up getting into a college in Connecticut, but she worried about going; there had been a lot of ICE raids in North Carolina.
“I just didn’t want to be separated from my family,” Franco said. But her mom told her, “Make these sacrifices for your future.”
Four years later, she graduated with a bachelors in sociology and criminology and a minor in anthropology.
During that time, Franco’s family got approved for a U visa, a temporary residency permit offered to victims of certain violent crimes and their families. And while she has that “safety net,” Franco said she still gets nervous around cops or when she’s filling out paperwork.
“What if they deport me for some reason?” Franco worries.
But unlike in 2016 when Trump first took office, Marín Baena said there are some more protections in place this time around. And that’s mostly due to the networks that have been built since then.
“Many of us walked into 2016 feeling completely alone, not knowing what we were going to do or where we were going to turn, and now we’re in a really different situation because we have each other,” said Marín Baena.
A network of resistance
n addition to Siembra, other nonprofits like Church World Service, an international global nonprofit, have also been offering support by raising funds for undocumented families facing financial crises, ICE detention and deportation. Since 2019, the North Carolina Immigrant Solidarity Fund has
distributed more than $1.1 million in direct financial assistance to undocumented families. NC-ISF regional partners include El Pueblo in Raleigh, Carolina Migrant Network in Charlotte, AMEXCAN in Greenville, CULA and CiMA in Asheville and Siembra NC in Greensboro.
Burke with CWS said that the organization serves people hailing from Turkey to South Africa. Their Greensboro office has been around for 15 years and does refugee resettlement work, immigration legal services and community engagement programming. They also provide legal consultation and knowyour-rights training to unaccompanied minors.
Burke understands that there’s fear again with another Trump term. But they’re working to empower people with information and connect them to resources like power of attorney clinics, as well as helping people think through potential care of children, especially for mixed status families where one or more people are undocumented.
They don’t have a crystal ball, Burke said, but they can prepare for what they experienced during the first administration as well as the campaign promises Trump has made.
Burke encourages people to support local organizations such as Siembra NC and the Triad Immigrant Solidarity Fund, or volunteering their time in other ways, such as if they’re an attorney or paralegal.
“I also think, just really educating yourself on the challenges faced by immigrants in this country, the history of immigration in the US, really trying to push back against some of these hurtful myths, even just in day-to-day conversations,” Burke said. “I really do think that stories and individual relationships, like that’s how we move the needle in a lot of ways.”
As someone who may be affected, Franco agreed.
“I think it’s important to have support, not just from our own community, but from different communities,” Franco said. “At the end of the day, all of us are scared and I think coming together really will make a difference in keeping each other safe, and also positive. We need to take care of ourselves, because if we burn out we’re only going to be able to do so much.”
Build relationships with immigrants, refugees and asylum seekers, Burke said. Let people know that they are “welcome, that we’re glad they’re here, that they’re important parts of our community, providing that emotional support and social safety net.”
“Those community connections are way more powerful than we realize,” Burke added.
While Franco still can’t vote due to her status, it motivates her to do political work in her community, she said. During the summer she worked with Siembra in Durham to get out the vote.
“Obviously the results aren’t the ones we wanted, but I know I can say at least I tried,” she said. And for Franco, facing the Trump administration feels different now that she’s an adult.
“It is scary, but I just feel optimistic now that I am older,” she said. “I can stand up, I am powerful, I am strong and I am independent. I got this. With his first term I was completely vulnerable. I was like, ‘I have to hide, I can’t be seen, I can’t speak to anyone about this.’ So I definitely do see myself in a completely different position now with this second term.”
And as the months go by, Franco looks forward to meeting more people to fight against this “little dictatorship,” she said, laughing.
“Numbers really are power, so the more the merrier.”
Beyond the Blue Ridge
Jan 11 & 12
Reynolds Auditorium
GRAMMY®-winning violinists Mark & Maggie O’Connor bring their bluegrass fiddling virtuosity to the classical stage in Mark’s Double Violin Concerto and his Strings & Threads Suite. Music from The Magnificent Seven and Copland’s ballet score Billy The Kid these cowboy-vibed concerts.
Jan 4 at 11 AM
New year, new you! Enjoy a fun pairing of yoga and soft music, on-stage at Reynolds Auditorium. Ashley Robinson of 2B Yoga leads this class for all experience levels.
NEWS
‘We’re always prepared’ How abortion advocates and providers are preparing for the next Trump administration
by Sayaka Matsuoka | sayaka@triad-city-beat.com
The Saturday after Donald Trump won this year’s presidential election, dozens of anti-abortion protesters showed up at the only procedural abortion clinic in Greensboro.
Like they had done for years, members of Love Life, a national Christian, anti-abortion organization, gathered in the Midori Express parking lot next to A Woman’s Choice off of Randleman Road in their signature teal shirts. They lifted their hands, sang and prayed.
But something about the group’s overall tone had changed. There was a slight shift in the air, an edge.
“Usually they’re there, and they don’t impede access,” said Lauren O., a clinic escort volunteer who ensures that patients can access the clinic safely. Escorts typically do not engage with protesters or respond to them. Lauren and another escort who spoke to TCB opted to use only their last name initials for fear of harassment from anti-abortion protesters. “But that Saturday, they actually kind of trapped a person in the Midori parking lot, and we had a hard time getting them out. And then one of them just walked into me like I wasn’t there.”
Kirstin C., who has also volunteered as an escort at the Greensboro clinic for years, recalled what she saw.
“It was some of the worst behavior from Love Life,” Kirstin said. “My impression was that it was coming out of their celebration. They tend to have a vested interest in seeming nice, but that Saturday they did not care.”
This marked shift in the attitude of the anti-abortion movement is something that locals fighting to ensure reproductive healthcare are steeling themselves against after the re-election of Donald Trump. For both volunteers and healthcare providers, a second Trump term could lead to deadly consequences.
“It’s really alarming to me,” said Amber Gavin, vice president of advocacy and operations for A Woman’s Choice, which operates clinics in Florida, North Carolina and Virginia. “It should be a cause of concern for everyone.”
Since the overturning of Roe v. Wade in 2022, which allowed individual states to
make laws around abortion access, NC lawmakers have rolled back access to abortion to just the first 12 weeks of a patient’s pregnancy. Prior to the Dobbs decision, the state allowed abortions up to 20 weeks. Now, with Trump returning to the Oval Office, abortion providers are concerned that he may institute a national abortion ban.
“That’s part of the anti-abortion movement,” said Jillian Riley, director of public affairs for Planned Parenthood South Atlantic. “It would be literally devastating.”
Planned Parenthood operates clinics that provide medical and procedural abortions in Winston-Salem and Greensboro.
One of the first acts that the Trump administration could take includes the banning of the use of mifepristone, a medication used to end early pregnancies and manage early miscarriages. As a progesterone blocker, mifepristone is one of two drugs that is typically used in medication abortions, which make up the majority — about 63 percent — of all abortions. Currently, mifepristone is approved for use by the Federal Drug Administration, but if Trump were to direct the FDA to revoke access, medication abortion would only be available as a one-pill process using misoprostol. That pill causes cramping and bleeding that empties the uterus. If mifepristone is restricted, that would mean that pregnancy hormones, which are usually blocked by the drug, could cause patients to experience pregnancy symptoms like breast tenderness or vomiting. That’s why having the use of both pills is seen as a more compassionate process for medication abortions, Riley said.
“It ends the pregnancy itself,” she said. “It ends all the symptoms of pregnancy.”
Another potential threat to abortion access is the Comstock Act, an anti-obscenity law from 1873 that could be used to restrict the mailing of medication abortion, restrict ultrasounds or restrict the mailing of the morning-after pill and other forms of contraception and birth control.
“I think that history has shown us that it’s not just about abortion,” Gavin said. “It’s about our entire reproductive health. It’s about control of our bodies and our families. It’s not stopping with abortion. It’s birth control, it’s IVF access, it’s all of it.”
To prepare for these possibilities, Gavin and Riley said that they’re doing what they’ve been doing for years: educating people and fighting to continue offering access.
“We’re always prepared to continue to care for people,” Gavin said.
Riley agreed.
“Our health centers are well equipped to provide care in hostile environments,” she said.
Riley noted how abortion providers resisted Trump’s first term. And that’s what they plan to do again.
“We’ve been through a Trump administration before,” Riley said. “We’re not going anywhere. We will continue to provide care to our patients.”
Since the overturning of Roe, both Riley and Gavin said that they’ve seen an increase in patients from across the south coming to NC, which is the last state in the region that allows for abortions after six weeks of pregnancy.
“People have always traveled for abortion care, but it’s harder than ever,” Gavin said.
She noted the cost of travel plus time off of work and childcare issues as barriers to accessing abortions in other states. That’s why abortion funds like the Carolina Abortion Fund, which helps patients pay for abortions but also pay for travel and childcare costs, are more vital than ever, she said.
According to Riley, more than half of Planned Parenthood’s patients are on Medicaid or another federal program. Reporting by KFF found that the median cost for abortions ranges from about $568-$775 nationwide. In NC, the cost is about $450.
“Most healthcare insurers don’t cover abortion care,” Gavin said. “A majority of patients receive assistance from one or more abortion funds.”
In addition to supporting local abortion funds, Kirstin and Lauren said that they’re working on making sure people understand the current abortion laws and any future changes to the laws that may come up.
“We need to pay attention to what’s happening,” Kirstin said.
Lauren added that in conjunction with protecting the access they have now, reproductive rights supporters are in a unique position to advocate for an expansion of protections that didn’t exist even when Roe v. Wade was still in place. She’s pushing for things like expanding who can prescribe medication abortions or repealing the Hyde Amendment, which heavily restricts the use of federal funds for abortion.
“They can’t take our ability to dream of better systems,” she said. “They cannot take that from us. They can’t stop us from sharing these ideas and reminding people that better things are possible. We won’t let them steal that from us.”
Abortion clinic escorts work to ensure patients can access care safely.
COURTESY PHOTO
Resistance, Part II
— Here We Go Again
by Brian Clarey
ve been around here so long I remember the first time we put out an issue about resistance against the Trump regime. It hit the streets Dec. 21, 2016, right around the same time we are now in the cycle.
A lot has happened since then. The first Trump regime came and went, with indignities against Americans of every stripe baked right into the plan, along with disregard for the rule of law, our system of checks and balances, historical precedent and our place in the world order. Let’s please not forget the COVID pandemic, the proliferation of which was largely Trump’s fault after he disbanded the country’s pandemic response team, charged with containing outbreaks of this nature. The Racial Reckoning of 2020 — and the pushback against it — also happened on Trump’s first watch. The George Floyd protests arose from the spirit of resistance and a frank acknowledgement of the way things have always been for Black folks and other marginalized communities in this country. The pushback came from everyone who felt threatened by these and other hard truths.
nation to one man’s will.
We have no reason to expect anything different this time around. In fact it will probably be worse.
But it’s important to remember that our resistance worked, to a degree. Trump lost his bid for re-election in 2020, ushering in the Joe Biden era that made right a few historical wrongs in its quest to un-Trump everything. The “Red Wave” predicted in 2022 never materialized, instead bringing more gains for the party that’s not Trump’s.
It’s important to remember that our resistance worked, to a degree.
Jen Sorensen jensorensen.com
And then there was the Jan. 6 insurrection, born out of misplaced anger, a disrespect for the electoral process and the notion that sheer force could bend the
One could argue that the Red Wave did finally break on the American shore during the 2024 election, when Republicans won majorities in both houses of Congress and, of course, we got more Trump.
So what happened?
For the answer, let’s look at the nature of resistance. It’s an eternal struggle, not one that can ever be won or lost. The bastards will always keep coming. We should all know that by now. And so resistance is not so much an act as a lifestyle, something that must be practiced constantly, every day, every election and the months in between. There is no room for complacency when they want to tear everything down. Resistance is who we are, not what we do.
So here we are again, dreading the specter of another Trump regime, imagining what the damage will look like and how long it could last, bracing for the worst and hoping for the best. And maybe it will get so bad we can rise again and push their movement back for another four years.
John Cole
Courtesy of NC Policy Watch
gtcc.edu/whygtcc
G CULTURE
A photography project in W-S captures
nonbinary and trans folks for who they are, one portrait at a time
by Sayaka Matsuoka sayaka@triad-city-beat.com
raham Morrison gives Jules direction as the model sits on a stool in Morrison’s small back portrait studio. Sneaker Pimps’s “6 Underground” plays in the background.
“Like 10 percent, 12 percent more smile,” Morrison says, directing his model. “No, no! That’s 30 percent, go back!”
“It’s hard!” Jules replies, smiling from ear to ear. “I have resting smiling face.”
Next to a prismatic, reflective wall nearby, a mannequin, which Morrison lovingly calls “Chappell Roan,” stands decked out in a neon-pink feathered robe. In the hallway leading to the studio, an entire room is filled with vibrant costumes, numerous wigs and six-inch studded heels. In the lobby, a pink neon light casts a fuschia tone throughout the space. A disco-ball-like wall buttressed by fake plants, a Pride flag and pink star-shaped sunglasses greet visitors when they first walk in. But for the background behind Jules, in the back studio, the tone is muted: it’s a plain grey. And there’s a reason for that.
Sign up for your own photo shoot by following Morrison on Instagram at @yachtstudios.
For the past several weeks, ever since the election, Morrison has been offering to do free portraits for gender nonconforming and trans people in Winston-Salem. It’s his way of giving back to the community that has had his back for years.
Morrison, who today wears a navy button-up shirt and dark jeans, sports minimal makeup on his face, a stark contrast to the look he serves as his well-known persona Anna Yacht, the drag queen, who performs in and around the city. While many know Morrison for his work in drag, he also has a photography business. And as soon as Trump was elected, he knew he had to do something.
“There are so many people who are more affected than I am,” Morrison says. “As a white, queer, gay man, it’s bad, but I have trans friends who are going to be feeling the effects of this much more.”
Data by the Trevor Project has shown that about 41 percent of LGBTQIA+ young people seriously considered attempting suicide in the past year. For trans and nonbinary youth, the percentage was higher — about 50 percent. Among the LGBTQIA+ community, those who experience the highest rates of anxiety and depression tended to be transgender or nonbinary.
“I knew that I wanted to do this as a way to give back and help them feel seen,” Morrison says.
Jules, who preferred to use just a first name for safety purposes, describes themselves as trans and androgyne. They’ve known Morrison for years through their connection to the LGBTQIA+ community and decided to reach out when they saw he was doing these portraits on their Instagram.
“I thought it would be fun,” Jules says. “It seemed like a cool project. And it shows queer life in Winston-Salem. Especially in the South, people forget that queer people exist here and that we’re very present.”
Post election, Jules says they wish more people who voted for Trump understood they likely have loved ones who are queer or are part of the LGBTQIA+ community who might not feel safe enough around them to come out.
“They can’t be their authentic selves around you, and that’s a very sad experience,” they say.
And that’s part of the reason Morrison started this project in the first place: to ensure that queer people weren’t invisibilized because of Trump’s re-election.
“My heart just breaks for my friends who will be affected by this administration,” he says. “The erasure of their stories. I want to put an exclamation mark on their stories so they’re visible.”
Back in the studio, Jules, who sports a mullet with frosted bangs and black, baggy clothes, tilts their head as Morrison directs them to lower their chin just a bit.
Although they’re an artist themselves, Jules explains that they have never really liked being photographed.
“I’ve always been very particular about how people take photos of me,” they say. “I don’t know how much of that is thinly veiled narcissism.”
But part of it has been their journey of how to identify and present themselves in the world. Although they first tried to come out as nonbinary when they were about 11 years old, they’ve had to work on different aspects of their appearance to settle on something that feels authentic to them. For a while, they were presenting more as masculine and using he/ they pronouns. But in 2019, they started wearing makeup again and about a year ago, they dropped the “he” from their pronouns.
“I’ve never been good at being a woman or a man,” Jule says. “So at some point, I have to just be what makes me feel good because I’m not going to please anybody.”
As they got older, Jules realized that they didn’t have enough documentation of their life.
“I was like, Oh my god, I’m in my late twenties, and I don’t have any photos of myself,” Jule says.
These days they’re working to maintain keepsakes like ticket stubs to remember important moments of their life. And that’s what brought them to the studio.
“I don’t know, I just want to feel pretty,” Jules says, smiling. “I don’t feel that I have particularly low self esteem, but I feel like I’m an acquired taste. I guess ultimately I want to feel a little less like a very dry wine and something that everyone likes, just for a day.”
And that’s exactly what Morrison says he’s set out to do with these portraits.
“Everybody has days where they don’t feel confident,” he says. “But hopefully with these, they can look back at a moment in time when they did feel confident and see that version still exists.”
That’s why the background, which is usually very colorful for portraits he does for other people — namely other drag artists — is muted. It’s to ensure that the subject he’s shooting is the main focus.
“A big thing for me is showcasing people in ways that they are seeing themselves in a positive light where the world may not always see it,” Morrison says.
Jules says that finding the queer community in Winston-Salem has been a saving grace. Connecting with others who are living their own fully authentic lives and love Jules for who they are is part of the reason they’ve felt confident enough to step in front of the camera.
“Prior to this year, I went a long time thinking that as long as I like myself, then that was fine,” Jules says. “But now I’m liking myself in ways that my friends and loved ones love me, and I’m trying to see myself the way they see me.”
The Smiths play in the background as Morrison directs Jules to raise their leg onto a platform.
“It’s kind of giving Captain Morgan,” Morrison quips.
“I hate being a huge bitch with resting smile face,” Jules laughs, posing.
“Love that little smile,” Morrison says. “Excellent. Oh yeah, perfect.”
Graham Morrison takes photos of Jules in his studio in Winston-Salem. The portrait on the left, by Morrison, is one of Jules’s favorite shots.
PHOTO BY SAYAKA MATSUOKA
It’s never easy for the whole family to stay up till midnight to celebrate the new year, but that’s okay, because the Miriam P. Brenner Children’s Museum has the solution! Join them on Tuesday, Dec. 31 — New Year’s Eve — for their annual countdown to noon.
The MBCM Noon Year’s Eve bash is the largest familyoriented New Year’s Eve party in downtown Greensboro! This year, all your family and friends can celebrate the new year with so many fun, family-friendly activities. Start off the party by writing your wish for 2025 on the MBCM Wishing Wall in the Museum lobby! Move onto make-and-take crafts, including a crown to wear throughout the morning and noisemakers to use at noon.
Join us in Activity Airport, where Rockstar Entertainment will be set up! Have their balloon artist twist up whatever your child’s heart desires! Get your faces painted so you can remember all the morning excitement all day long!
Just before noon strikes, everyone will gather in Activity Airport for a dance party while MBCM staff hands out cups of apple juice to toast to 2025. Everyone will count down to noon, with a giant balloon drop and multiple confetti cannons!
Get your little ones involved in this year’s New Year’s Eve celebrations by counting down to noon at MBCM. The Noon Year’s Eve bash is from 10am-12:30p. Tickets are already on sale for the event. Visit mbcmusem.com to buy yours today, and ring in the new year with wholesome, family-friendly fun!
P Brenner
Fri 12/13
The String Revolution / Jacob Johnson @ 7pm
Muddy Creek Cafe And Music Hall Old Salem, 137 West St, Winston-Salem
Spider Bucket @ 7pm
The Den, 3756 Ogburn Ave, Winston-Salem
Sat 12/14
ChristmasFest
@ 10am
Family Fun & Festivities! Christmas carols and other holiday music surrounds you as you visit art and craft vendors with Moravian and Christmas items, enjoy food and drinks, and children's activities! Elberson Fine Arts Center, 412 Rams Drive, Winston-Salem. info@moravianmusic.org, 336-725-0651
Bad Loves Ultimate Epic Ugly Christmas Sweater Party
@ 9pm
Miller's, 622 Trade St NW, Winston-Salem
Sun 12/15
Sunday Yoga @ SouthEnd Brewing Co.
@ 10am / $5
SouthEnd Brewing Co, 117b West Lewis Street, Greensboro
Elf the Musical (Touring)
@ 6:30pm / $25-$119
Steven Tanger Center for the Performing Arts, Greensboro
Mon 12/16
Chris Tomlin
@ 7pm
Westover Church, 505 Muirs Chapel Rd, Greensboro
Tue 12/17
Caroline Cotter @ 6pm
West Salem Public House, 400 S Green St, WinstonSalem
Dragon's Hoard
Magic Paint & Sip Night!
@ 6:30pm / $30
Let your creativity �ow as we paint iconic lands from Magic: The Gather‐ing: Mountains, Plains, Swamp, For‐est, and Island! Pick your favorite land, follow along, and add your unique twist! Dragon's Hoard, 4645 West Mar‐ket Street, Greensboro. sherri@dragon shoardnc.com, 336-617-5668
Postmodern Jukebox @ 8pm
Carolina Theatre of Greensboro, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro
Wed 12/18
A Christmas Story - Film @ 7pm
Carolina Theatre of Greensboro, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro
Thu 12/19
Improvement Movement @ 8pm
The Ramkat & Gas Hill Drinking Room, 170 W 9th St, Winston-Salem
Fri 12/20
LOST IN TIME
@ 7pm
Hoots Beer Co., 840 Mill Works St, Winston-Salem
Sat 12/21
Singles-On-Segways
@ 9:30am / $89
Get ready to mingle and roll at Singles-On-Segways, where you can meet new people while cruising around on two wheels! 176 Ywca Way, WinstonSalem
Geeksboro MarketGeek the Halls: Shop, Play, Gift! @ 10am
"Get ready to ‘Geek the Halls’! Discover unique gifts from geeky ven‐dors, enjoy free crafts, and win door prizes—all for FREE! Geeksboro Mar‐ket, 4645 West Market Street, Greens‐boro. sherri@dragonshoardnc.com, 336-617-5668
Ross Coppley @ 8pm
Craft & Vine, Oak Ridge
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Sun 12/22
Kenny and Claire: Guest Music Leaders for Worship Service
@ 8:45am
First Baptist Church of Stanleyville, 851 Ziglar Rd, Winston-Salem
Sunday Yoga @ SouthEnd Brewing Co. @ 10am / $5
SouthEnd Brewing Co, 117b West Lewis Street, Greensboro
Kenny and Claire: Guest Music Leaders for Worship Service
@ 11am
First Baptist Church of Stanleyville, 851 Ziglar Rd, Winston-Salem
The Band JAREN: The One We've Waited For Christmas Tour @ 11am
Central Triad Church, 2935 Cole Rd, Winston-Salem
The Nutcracker: A Magical Ballet on Christmas in Winston-Salem, NC
Preformed by Ballet of Ukraine @ 2pm / $55
Pyotr Tchaikovsky's timeless masterpiece was brought to life in 1895 with Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov's brilliant libretto and choreography. R. J. Reynolds Auditorium, 301 North Hawthorne Road, Winston-Salem. info@classicalarts.net
William Nesmith @ 6pm
The Quarter, 112 W Lewis St, Greensboro
Tue 12/24
Hats and Bells Elf Run 2024 - 30th Edition @ 9am
William White YMCA Parking Lot, 775 W End Blvd., Winston Salem
LIght a Luminary for Ronald McDonald House Charities Piedmont Triad @ 6pm
Our community has been lighting luminaries in honor of Ronald McDonald House families since 1987. The luminaries are lit on December 24 at dusk, with each light shining to honor an RMHCPT family. Winston-Salem. stephanieb@rmhcpt.org, 336-970-5656
Calendar information is provided by event organiz‐ers. All events are subject to change or cancellation. This publication is not responsible for the accuracy of the information contained in this calendar. The best place to promote your events online and in print. Visit us @ https://triad-city-beat.com/local-events powered by
SHOT IN THE TRIAD
BY CAROLYN DE BERRY
North Church Street, Greensboro
The T.W. Andrews “Red Raiders” Marching Band performs at the Holiday Parade in downtown Greensboro.
