ADAM BEAM
November 15, 2023
SACRAMENTO, Calif. (AP) — The first time Toni Atkins acted as the governor of California, she used her powers to honor the passing of San Diego Padres baseball player Tony Gwynn while playfully rebuffing Jimmy Kimmel’s advice that she “ invade Oregon. ”
It was 2014, and Atkins — the first lesbian to be the speaker of the state Assembly — was filling in for former Gov. Jerry Brown, a quirk of the California Constitution that requires governors to put someone else in charge whenever they leave the state.
Atkins, now the president pro tempore of the state Senate, has filled in as governor a few more times since then, most recently in July when she signed three bills into law and quipped that she was thrilled to once again step into the governor’s shoes, “ although I have better shoes. ”
Now, the 61-year-old lawmaker is turning her attention once again to the governor’s office — only this time, she’s exploring a much longer stay.
“I’m very interested in looking at that possibility” of running for governor, Atkins told The Associated Press in an interview, saying publicly for the first time what many have assumed since she announced she would step down as the Senate’s top leader next year. “I am looking at it seriously.”
The race to replace Gov. Gavin Newsom will likely be a Democratic free-for-all sure to attract the party’s top talent for the chance to lead the nation’s most populous state and the world’s fifth largest economy. California voters have never elected a woman to the governor's office, nor a person who is openly LGBTQ. And a host of other Democratic candidates are also vying to make history.
Lt. Gov. Eleni Kounalakis was the first to formally announce her candidacy just a few months into Newsom’s second term. Tony Thurmond, the Black state superintendent of public instruction, is also in, along with former Controller Betty Yee. Attorney General Rob Bonta, who is Filipino, has said he is seriously considering a run.
But Atkins is banking on her experience to give her an edge. That includes a brief stint as mayor of San Diego, one of the nation’s largest cities. And it includes becoming just the third person and first woman ever to hold both of the Legislature’s top jobs: speaker of the Assembly and president pro tempore of the Senate, where she negotiated eight state operating budgets and had her hands in countless major policy decisions.
“I sort of feel like I’m addicted to responsibility,” she said. “I think experience counts and matters, and I believe I have experience to continue to contribute in some way.”
California’s top legislative leaders are some of the most powerful people in the state, but it often doesn’t feel like it. While they negotiate major polices, it’s the governor who gets the attention when the deals are done.
That’s especially true for Atkins, who has been a more quiet leader than most. During her tenure as Senate leader, Democrats have grown their caucus to 32 out of 40 seats — their largest majority since 1883. That majority means there is little incentive to work with Republicans. But Atkins made sure Republicans had their bills heard in public hearings and even pushed for former Republican Leader Shannon Grove to be included in briefings with the Newsom administration.
“She always included us and there was never any surprises. I didn't agree with what was going on, but we had input and participation,” said Grove, who noted she and Atkins bonded over their impoverished upbringing and a shared love of country music icon Dolly Parton. “She understands that we represent a portion of Californians as well and we were duly elected and therefore our voices should be heard.”
Atkins grew up in rural southwest Virginia, where her dad was a miner and her mother was a seamstress. Her childhood home did not have running water, and some of her earliest memories are of walking down a hill with her twin sister to fetch water from a spring to use for cooking and doing laundry.
As a young lesbian in Appalachia, Atkins dreamed of moving to California. She got her chance when her twin sister joined the Navy and was stationed in San Diego. Atkins moved there to help care for her sister’s young son, and never left.
In San Diego, Atkins was director of a women’s health clinic that performed abortions. She was also politically active, working to help elect Christine Kehoe to the San Diego City Council. Kehoe hired Atkins to work for her, and then urged her to run for her seat when Kehoe was elected to the state Assembly.
“Toni is not the kind of person that wants to be the smartest person in the room. She wants to be the most helpful and effective person in the room. And oftentimes she is,” Kehoe said.
Atkins followed her mentor to the state Legislature in 2010, where she soon found herself in a contentious race for speaker against Anthony Rendon of Los Angeles. Atkins won, but left after two years to run for the Senate.
It wasn’t long before Atkins was selected by her colleagues to lead the state Senate, forcing her to work with Rendon, who had replaced her as speaker in the Assembly. Their relationship was rough at times, but fruitful for Democrats. Their partnership expanded Medicaid to include all eligible adults regardless of immigration status and free meals for public school students.
“We had problems, but I think it was, you know, related more to ambition than anything and, you know, probably to an extent immaturity on my part, too,” said Rendon, who plans to run for state treasurer in 2026. “Toni Atkins is a very forgiving person. I have not always been the easiest person to deal with. But she, you know, kept coming back and trying to forge a relationship.”
Atkins said she is most proud of the policies that were inspired by her impoverished upbringing, including helping implement the federal Affordable Care Act and creating a tax credit for poor families worth several hundred dollars.
Those wins are part of what’s driving her potential run for governor, too.
“I see what you can do when you’re in that role,” she said. “There is something about being at the table.”
In Texas, a Fight Over Gender and School Theater Takes an Unexpected Turn
J. David Goodman
Wed, November 15, 2023
Phillip Hightower, father of Max Hightower, the transgender senior at Sherman High School whose casting in a lead role triggered ensuing events, speaking during a school board meeting at the Sherman Independent School District office in Sherman, Texas on Nov. 13, 2023. (Desiree Rios/The New York Times)
SHERMAN, Texas — A school district in the conservative town of Sherman, Texas, made national headlines last week when it put a stop to a high school production of the musical “Oklahoma!” after a transgender student was cast in a lead role.
The district’s administrators decided, and communicated to parents, that the school would cast only students “born as females in female roles and students born as males in male roles.” Not only did several transgender and nonbinary students lose their parts, but so too did cisgender girls cast in male roles. Publicly, the district said the problem was the profane and sexual content of the 1943 musical.
At one point, the theater teacher, who objected to the decision, was escorted out of the school by the principal. The set, a sturdy mock-up of a settler’s house that took students two months to build, was demolished.
But then something even more unusual happened in Sherman, a rural college town that has been rapidly drawn into the expanding orbit of Dallas to its south. The school district reversed course. In a late-night vote Monday, the school board voted unanimously to restore the original casting. The decision rebuked efforts to bring the fight over transgender participation in student activities into the world of theater, which has long provided a haven for gay, lesbian and transgender students, and it reflected just how deeply the controversy had unsettled the town.
The district’s restriction had been exceptional. Fights have erupted over the kinds of plays students can present, but few if any school districts appear to have attempted to restrict gender roles in theater. And while legislatures across the country, including in Texas, have adopted laws restricting transgender students’ participation in sports, no such legislation has been introduced to restrict theater roles, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures.
The board’s vote came after students and outraged parents began organizing. In recent days, the district’s administrators, seeking a compromise, offered to recast the students in a version of the musical meant for middle schoolers or younger that omitted solos and included roles as cattle and birds. Students balked.
After the vote, the school board announced a special meeting for Friday to open an investigation and to consider taking action against the district superintendent, Tyson Bennett, who oversaw the district’s handling of “Oklahoma!,” including “possible administrative leave.”
Suddenly, improbably, the students had won.
“I’m beyond excited and everyone cried tears of joy,” Max Hightower, the transgender senior whose casting in a lead role triggered the ensuing events, said in a text message Tuesday. He and other theater students were at a costume shop Tuesday, a class trip that had been meant as a consolation after the disappointment of losing their production. Instead, it turned into a celebration. “I’m getting new Oklahoma costumes!!” he said.
Before the school board vote Monday night, high schoolers and their parents had gathered at the district’s offices along with theater actors and transgender students from nearby Austin College. Local residents came to talk about decades of past productions at Sherman High School of “Oklahoma!,” which tells the story of an Oklahoma Territory farm girl and her courtship by two rival suitors. Many scoffed at the district’s objections to the musical, which school officials complained included “mature adult themes.”
“‘Oklahoma!’ is generally regarded as one of the safest shows you could possibly pick to perform,” said Kirk Everist, a theater professor at Austin College who was among those who came to speak. “It’s almost a stereotype at this point.”
Every seat in the room was filled, almost entirely with supporters of the production. Some lined the walls while others who were turned away waited outside. Of the 65 people who signed up to speak, only a handful voiced support for the district’s restrictions.
The outpouring came as a shock, even to longtime Sherman residents.
“What you’re seeing today is history,” said Valerie Fox, 41, a local LGBTQ+ advocate and the parent of a queer high schooler. Fox said she was taken aback by the scene of dozens of transgender people and their supporters holding signs and flags outside the district offices. “This is one of the biggest things we’ve seen in Sherman.”
The town, a short drive from Dallas, has been a place where many conservatives have gone to escape the city. Some were supportive of the superintendent’s initial decision to restrict the musical.
“Adult content doesn’t belong in high school; they’re still kids,” Renée Snow, 62, said earlier Monday as she sat with a friend on a bench outside the county courthouse. “It’s about education. It’s not about lifestyle.”
Her friend, Lyn Williams, 69, agreed. “It doesn’t seem like anyone is willing to stand up for anything anymore,” she said.
At a local shoe store, no one needed to be reminded of the details of the controversy. One shopper, shaking a pair of insoles, said that she believed that God made people either male or female, and that the issue was as simple as that.
Inside the courthouse, Bruce Dawsey, the top executive for Grayson County, described a rural community coming to terms with its evolution into a place where urban development is altering the landscape. Not far away, more than a half-dozen cranes could be seen towering over a new high-tech facility for Texas Instruments. The high school, with more than 2,200 students, opened on a sprawling new campus in 2021, its grass still uniform, its newly planted trees still struggling to provide shade. With all the growth, the school is already too small.
“The majority is Republican, and it’s conservative Republican,” Dawsey said. “But not so ultraconservative that it’s not welcoming.”
Still, some in and around Sherman have chafed at the changes. When Beto O’Rourke, a Democratic candidate for governor, campaigned through the county last year, he was met with aggressive protesters who confronted him over gun rights, some carrying assault-style rifles. A few wore T-shirts suggesting opposition to liberal urban governance: “Don’t Dallas My Grayson County.”
But the controversy over “Oklahoma!” came as a surprise. The musical had been selected and approved last school year, casting was completed in August and more than 60 students in the cast and crew — as well as dozens of dancers — had been preparing for months. Performances were scheduled for early December.
Max, 17, had been cast in a minor role. But then, in late October, one of the leads was cut from the production, and Max got the part, the biggest he had ever had. He was elated.
Days later, his father, Phillip Hightower, got a call from the high school principal, who told him that Max could not have the part because, under a new policy, no students could play roles that differed from their sex at birth. “He was not rude or disrespectful, but he was very curt and to the point,” Hightower recalled.
The district later denied having such a policy. But the principal also left messages for other parents whose children were losing their roles, one of which was shared with The New York Times.
“This is Scott Johnston, principal at Sherman High School,” a man’s voice said on the recording. “Moving forward, the Sherman theater department will cast students born as females in female roles and students born as males in male roles.”
The message diverged from the rules for high school theater competitions in Texas, which allow for students to be cast in roles regardless of gender.
The district did not make Johnston or the superintendent, Bennett, available for an interview.
In his previous role as an assistant superintendent, Bennett had objected to the content of a theater production by Sherman High School, according to the former choir director, Anna Clarkson. She recalled Bennett asking her to change a lesbian character into a straight character in the school’s production of “Legally Blonde” in 2015, and to cut a song entitled “Gay or European?”
At the school board meeting Monday, theater students from the high school described how things had become worse for gay and transgender students at school since the production was halted. Slurs. Taunts. Arguments in the halls.
“People are following me around calling me girl-boy,” said Max.
Kayla Brooks and her wife Liz Banks arrived at the meeting bracing for a tough night. Their daughter Ellis had lost a part playing a male character, and they had been actively working with other parents to oppose the changes.
“We were both nervous, because we live in Sherman,” said Banks. Then they saw the large, supportive crowd outside. “We began weeping in the car,” Brooks said.
The school board sat mostly stone-faced as dozens of people testified in support of the theater students, sharing personal histories. A transgender student at Austin College said he had not before come out publicly. Sherman residents lamented the way the school district’s position had made the town look.
“I just want this town to be what it can be and not be a laughingstock for the entire nation,” one woman, Rebecca Gebhard, told the board.
After nearly three hours, the board went behind closed doors. The crowds left. Few expected a significant decision was imminent.
Then, after 10 p.m., the board took their seats again and introduced a motion for a vote: Since there was no official policy on gender for casting, the original version of the musical should be reinstated. All seven board members voted in favor, including one who had, months before, protested against a gay pride event.
“We want to apologize to our students, parents, our community regarding the circumstances that they’ve had to go through,” the board president, Brad Morgan, said afterward.
Sitting in their living room Tuesday morning, Banks and Brooks recalled how their daughter delivered them the news. “She just said, ‘We won,’” Brooks said. “She was beaming, smiling ear to ear.” The musical would be performed in January.
The couple decided, for the first time, to hang a pride flag in the window of their home. For now, they felt a little more confident in their neighbors than they had a day before.
c.2023 The New York Times Company
Watch This Dad's Glorious & Brutal Takedown Of A School Board For Its Anti-LGBTQ+ Policies
Ariel Messman-Rucker
Tue, November 14, 2023
Cody Conner at the podium at a Virginia Beach school board meeting
In the face of anti-LGBTQ+ policies being implemented in schools across the country, some parents are speaking out and it’s glorious to watch. Especially when it's done like this.
A video of Cody Conner, a Virginia Beach dad, is going viral on social media after he spoke at a school board meeting on October 10. The father of three gave an impassioned speech about the state’s “discriminatory policies” and called out anyone who stands in favor of them.
“You are never going to find a right way to do the wrong thing and Governor Youngkin’s policies are wrong,” he began his speech.
Conner is referring to the Virginia governor’s “model policies” for public schools that require students to use the bathroom and sports team that matches their assigned sex. It also requires written instruction from parents for a student to use names or gender pronouns that differ from the official record, meaning that teacher can deadname students—refer to them by their prior name—if paperwork isn’t filled out by the parents and it requires the school to inform parents if a student is questioning their identity, according to 13 News Now. These policies will be especially detrimental to LGBTQ+ students who come from conservative homes.
Conner started speaking out at school board meetings (he’ll be speaking for the 17th time on November 15) because he moved his family to Virginia Beach right before Youngkin’s policies passed and he worries about the future of his 13-year-old trans daughter who is now in the 8th grade. The family moved from rural Virginia to Virginia Beach so that their kid, who came out as trans a year ago, would be in a school system that would be supportive, but that all changed because of Youngkin.
“I think at that point, I just wasn’t going to run,” he tells PRIDE. “I couldn’t anymore.”
The 42-year-old father said that he’s a quiet person and might not have made the choice to speak up if not for his kids. “I just knew I couldn’t standby and do nothing, just let it happen and hope everything worked out ok and I also wanted to make sure my kid knew that I would stand up for them,” Conner explains as he begins to tear up. “My big job as a parent is not to tell my children who they are, it’s not to make the decisions for them, it’s not to live their life or decide what their life is going to be, but to show them the best way I know how to walk through this world.”
Watching a father stick up for his trans kid and the queer community and rail against conservatives is a cathartic experience and likely why the video has gone viral online.
In his speech that already has nearly 90,000 likes on TikTok, Conner pointed out that the fact that the Proud Boys and the “parental rights” group Moms for Liberty—both considered hate groups by the Southern Poverty Law Center—support these discriminatory and draconian policies is further proof that the policies are wrong.
“Never in history have the good guys been the segregationist group pushing to legislate identity,” he said. “Never in history have the good guys been closely connected with and supported by hate groups like the Proud Boys. And the good guys don’t put Hitler quotes for inspiration on the front of their newsletters. News flash: they're the bad guys. They're the bad guys supporting bad policy. And if you support the same bad policy, guess what? You’re one of the bad guys too.”
After nearly a year of delays, Youngkin's policies are finally being implemented in the Virginia Beach school system, with a few minor alterations, which is why Conner has no plans to stop speaking out. He finished his dynamic speech by reminding the school board members to “be the good guys while you still can.”
Conner explains to PRIDE that for him speaking at school board meetings is about more than just trying to sway board members. “It was just about a lot more than just trying to change the minds of those 11 people up there,” he says. “It was about trying to bolster the hearts of the thousands and thousands of people out there that those 11 people’s decisions are threatening.”
With anti-LGBTQ+ laws sweeping the country it’s easy to become disillusioned, but watching Conner call out bigotry and homophobia is the kind of catharsis the queer community needs right now. But speaking truth to power isn’t the only way Conner is trying to change the world for the LGBTQ+ community. He’s also an organizer with the trans rights nonprofit the Calos Coalition. When speaking with PRIDE Conner was gearing up to cook a trans-Thanksgiving dinner put on by the group. It’s only the second “trans family dinner” they’ve put on—they plan to do it every month—but they are already expecting 70 guests.
“In a very real way the LGBTQ+ community gets treated by a lot of people as if they’re unwholesome in some way, with zero acknowledgment that so many members of the community have been isolated and ostracized from these presumed wholesome places and traumatized in places like the family dinner table,” he explains. “And I just wanted to take that back, create a safe space to sit down and break bread with people [who are] welcome and wanted.”
This is what allyship looks like. This is what parenting looks like. And this is hopefully what the future looks like — which if Conner gets his way, it will.
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