WHERE THE HELL IS EVERYONE AGAIN

INTRODUCTION: THE SILENCE IS THE STORY

There are moments when silence becomes louder than any speech. Moments when the absence of response is not neutral, not cautious, not strategic. It is damning. We are in one of those moments now.

Right now, one of the most visible queer athletes in the world, Amber Glenn, is standing alone in the public square. Not because she lacks community. Not because she lacks courage. But because the institutions that profit from the rainbow have decided that speaking up is inconvenient.

This is not new. And that is the problem.

I am frustrated. Not in a performative way. Not in a fleeting social media way. But in the bone deep way that comes from watching the same failure repeat itself with different victims. Frustrated at the silence. Frustrated at watching Amber Glenn treated as expendable. Frustrated at the way we gather at protest after protest, conference after conference, preaching unity and family and we have your back, only to lose our collective voice when the fight actually arrives.

And yes, this is why we lose so damn often.

WHY AMBER GLENN MATTERS AND WHY THIS IS BIGGER THAN HER

Amber Glenn is not controversial because of her performance. She is not divisive because of her talent. She is controversial only because she refuses to shrink.

She is openly queer in a sport that survives on palatability. She is candid about mental health in an ecosystem that rewards silence and compliance. She stands publicly, visibly, and unapologetically. Not just for herself, but for the community she belongs to.

That visibility is precisely why this moment matters.

Corporate LGBTQ organizations love visible queer figures when the visibility is convenient. When it sells Pride merchandise. When it decorates donor decks. When it fits neatly into a campaign slide labeled impact.

But visibility becomes a liability the moment it requires defense.

Amber Glenn did not hesitate to stand up. For herself. For queer people. For trans people. For anyone who has ever been told to make themselves smaller to stay welcome. Yet when the moment arrived that demanded public backing, institutional pressure, or even vocal solidarity, the response from many of the largest LGBTQ organizations was nothing.

Silence.

And silence is not accidental.

WHAT AMBER SAID AND WHAT SHE GOT BACK

Amber Glenn did not issue a carefully focus grouped statement. She spoke honestly about identity, about mental health, about the pressure placed on queer women in elite sports, and about existing openly in a system that punishes deviation.

The response was swift and ugly.

She received harassment. She received threats. She became the target of coordinated backlash that was both gendered and queerphobic in tone. The familiar mix of policing, sexualized hostility, and demands that she just skate and stay quiet.

This is the exact moment where institutional advocacy is supposed to show up.

It did not.

THE ILLUSION OF ADVOCACY

We need to say something plainly, even if it makes people uncomfortable. Much of what passes for LGBTQ advocacy at the national, corporate level is branding, not protection.

Branding is easy. Branding is safe. Branding is rainbow logos in June, carefully worded statements, and donor friendly language about visibility and inclusion. Branding thrives when queerness is inspirational, digestible, and non threatening.

Advocacy is harder.

Advocacy requires risk. It requires confrontation. It requires the willingness to make powerful people angry, including the people who write checks.

And when advocacy would require challenging power instead of flattering it, too many organizations choose to disappear.

Amber Glenn is not the first person to discover this, and she will not be the last.

THE MISOGYNY QUESTION

It is worth asking a question many organizations would rather avoid. Is misogyny part of this silence?

In recent years, major LGBTQ organizations mobilized aggressively, and correctly, to defend drag queen story hours. Drag queens are overwhelmingly portrayed by cisgender men, and those defenses were loud, visible, and institutionally coordinated.

That support mattered.

But contrast that response with the near total silence when a queer woman athlete faces threats for speaking openly.

If our advocacy infrastructure reliably mobilizes to protect queer expression associated with men, but falters when queer women are targeted, that is not coincidence. It is a blind spot. Blind spots have consequences.

Queer women have long been expected to absorb hostility quietly. To be grateful for partial inclusion. To understand when their defense is deemed too complicated.

Amber Glenn fits that pattern. That should disturb us.

A PATTERN NOT AN ANOMALY NEW HAMPSHIRE 2025

If this silence feels familiar, it is because we have seen it before.

In 2025, trans restrictive health care legislation advanced through the New Hampshire legislature with the help of Democratic votes. This was not a surprise ambush. This was not a fringe maneuver. This was harm enabled from inside the tent.

And what happened next?

There were no emergency press conferences. No donor alerts. No endorsements paused. No donations pulled. No sustained public pressure campaign aimed at the political machines that made those votes possible.

Silence.

We are told endlessly that Republican led anti trans bills justify urgent mobilization because they are existential threats. That is true.

But when Democrats participate in the same harm, the response from major LGBTQ organizations collapses.

If accountability only flows in one direction, it is not strategy. It is abdication.

THE DOUBLE STANDARD WE PRETEND NOT TO SEE

In 2025, corporations were loudly condemned, correctly, for rolling back DEI language, removing website pages, or quietly distancing themselves from public commitments under pressure from the Trump administration and allied movements.

Statements were issued. Campaigns were launched. Boycotts were threatened.

But when a young, highly visible queer skater receives threats for speaking openly, where is that urgency?

If a missing web page triggers outrage but a real person facing harassment does not, then we are no longer talking about values. We are talking about optics.

THE COST OF SELECTIVE ACCOUNTABILITY

Here is the lie we keep telling ourselves. That silence preserves influence.

What silence actually preserves is access, not power. Access to meetings. Access to donors. Access to political machines that depend on our loyalty but rarely reciprocate it when it counts.

The other side does not suffer from this delusion.

Conservative movements are perfectly willing to manipulate, contort, and even contradict their stated values in order to consolidate power. They punish disloyalty. They reward aggression. They understand that power yields nothing to politeness.

Meanwhile, we agonize over tone. We worry about unity. We avoid confrontation in the name of coalition, even as members of our own community are sacrificed for political convenience.

Amber Glenn is paying the price for that cowardice in real time.

UNITY WITHOUT CONSEQUENCES IS THEATER

We gather constantly. Panels. Summits. Marches. Fundraisers. We chant family, community, belonging. We tell one another and ourselves that we are stronger together.

But unity that evaporates the moment it demands consequences is not unity. It is theater.

What does we have your back mean if it disappears when a queer woman in a highly visible, high risk space needs public defense?

What does allyship mean if it survives only as long as it does not cost donations, endorsements, or invitations?

And what exactly are we building if the most visible members of our family can be quietly abandoned when defending them becomes inconvenient?

WHAT ACCOUNTABILITY ACTUALLY LOOKS LIKE

This is not a call for purity tests. It is not a demand for ideological exile. It is a call for symmetry.

If organizations claim to represent LGBTQ people, they must be willing to publicly challenge allies who enable harm, pause or reconsider endorsements when red lines are crossed, attach consequences to actions not just words, and defend visible community members when the backlash is real.

Anything less is branding.

A STATEMENT FROM RAINBOWS IN REVOLT

Rainbows In Revolt exists because silence has become the default, and silence is killing us.

We believe advocacy that does not show up when it costs something is not advocacy at all. We believe queer women, trans people, and visibly outspoken members of our community deserve defense, not abandonment. We believe accountability must apply to friends as well as enemies.

We are done waiting for permission. We are done mistaking access for power. We are done applauding institutions that vanish when courage is required.

If the largest voices in the room will not speak, we will.

The revolt starts right now.