June is LGBTQ+ pride month, but this year’s celebrations have been marked by efforts across the region and the country to roll back protections and services for some members of the queer community.
School districts across eastern Washington have passed resolutions seeking to restrict the participation of transgender girls in sports.
The Idaho legislature this year further restricted the bathrooms and dorms available to transgender individuals — this time at public universities.
Spokane and other local Pride organizations lost sponsorships as diversity, equity and inclusion programs came to a halt in both the federal government and the corporate world.
The U.S. Supreme Court upheld a Tennessee law that bans gender affirming care for minors, allowing a similar Idaho law to go back into full effect.
In July, the Trump administration will end specialized suicide prevention services for LGBTQ+ youth on the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline.
U.S. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth has even ordered the Navy secretary to change the name of a ship that’s currently named for Harvey Milk — a Navy veteran who was also one of the first openly gay elected officials in the country.
So what is it like to cover the news when your community is the news? A panel of journalists from the Inland Northwest who are also part of the LGBTQ+ community sat down with SPR's Owen Henderson to talk about it.
The panel consisted of Erin Sellers, city hall and politics reporter for Range Media; Colton Rasanen, staff writer for the Inlander; and Tracy Simmons, editor and executive director of FaVS News, as well as an associate professor of journalism at Washington State University.
This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
OWEN HENDERSON: It's Pride Month, which means there are plenty of stories that involve queer folks, but controversy over LGBTQ identity and rights, particularly in recent years with the transgender community, has been a part of the news for a very long time. So broadly speaking, how does each of you think about covering the news when your own community is the news? I'm going to start with you, Tracy.
TRACY SIMMONS: Yeah, that's a that's a good question. I mean, I cover religion specifically. And so when you think about some of the tension and the conflict around queer rights, a lot of it is driven by religious views, right? And so I think it's really important to report on both sides. And it's a challenge.
I just wrote a story on ‘Hetero Awesome [sic] Fest’ in Boise, Idaho, and I had interviewed the founder of it and someone who has a booth there. But I also countered that story by talking to two clergypeople who say, ‘No, like your straightness isn't under attack.’
And so it's just, you know — I don't know if I answered your question, but I think it's really important to cover both sides and to tell those stories, regardless of how I feel about them.
OH: Colton, I'm going to move to you now. Broadly speaking, how do you think about this?
COLTON RASANEN: I generally try to approach it as like a person focused reporting effort. I think definitely there's a lot of stories about Pride or the LGBTQ+ community to write about.
But when we can focus our stories in on the people who are making Pride happen on the people who are making this community safe for queer folks, I think that's an important aspect of my coverage.
In our Pride issue this year, it was really important to include Trans Spokane and Louis Stay, their executive director, who's been working for the last year, or — you know — Miss Trans USA, Beyonce Black St. James.
These people are who make our community important. And so that's kind of where I focus on when I'm covering our community.
OH: And how about you, Erin?
ERIN SELLERS: I think Range thinks about it a little bit differently, because even covering City Hall, I'm a member of Spokane. I live in a district.
My representatives are on council. And so even just doing basic politics reporting, I'm a member of a community that's reporting on my community. So I kind of think about it the same way with queer reporting, where I can get a better story by virtue of being a member of the community.
I can ask more sensitive questions. I can empathize more. And I think my editor doesn't really think about that as a conflict, but more as a strength of my reporting, that I can be in those spaces authentically and with my sources authentically.
If there is any story where there's like a question of, would I be able to write this without bias, we usually hire an outside editor. But in general, I think about it the same as I think about all of my reporting is that it's my job to be in community telling community stories.
TS: I view everything with a religion lens, right? And so if I get a press release, something about a queer issue, if I can find that religion angle, then I think it's worth reporting on.
And FaVS takes some heat because we do report quite a bit on LGBT issues. And I think some people in the religious community think that we shouldn't do that. But, you know, I think religion is always in the room, whether it's politics or queer issues or whatever.
So I wouldn't say we seek them out, but we definitely don't shy away from them.
CR: I think Erin said it kind of perfectly. I mean, this is a community that I'm a part of, and so I do search out those stories. I do feel like I have a stronger voice and a stronger, like in my reporting process, I am stronger because of that.
So I do search those kind of stories out for the Inlander. I feel like it's important for us to cover those.
OH: None of these outlets, the Inlander, FaVS News, Range, have large newsrooms. How does that play into your choice to either cover or not cover something that has to do with the queer community?
TS: I mean, I am the editor, so I get assigned the stories. And I'm so grateful that we have a team of 15 freelancers right now. And somehow I was able to get a bunch of queer religion journalists on my team. And so if it's a story that I don't have time for, or maybe I have a personal conflict with, then I can dish it out to another reporter, no problem.
OH: And for you, Colton?
CR: I mean, I do in the editing process, it feels like sometimes you have to explain things a little bit more or like, you know, add comments and be like — I think there was a quote recently that used the word ‘kiki.’ And I had to like, put in a note, like, ‘This is a gay slang for gossiping or talking,’ right?
And so that's kind of where our process goes, is it maybe takes a little bit more time to work with the editor and be like, ‘This makes sense to the queer community. This is relevant.’
But we haven't ever had to bring anyone else to edit it.
ES: There's one other reporter full-time on staff at Range. And then we have a couple of freelancers that we work with every once in a while.
And, you know, last year, I was covering the Pride mural on the intersection by City Hall. And one of my articles got absolutely lit up on Twitter. I ended up on the Joe Rogan subreddit, and I think Libs of TikTok mentioned it. I was getting transvestigated for a while.
I got death threats and a bunch of cigarette emojis in my Twitter replies. And at that point, the other reporter on staff was like, ‘Hey, this is clearly going to be an ongoing issue. And as a straight white guy, I can take some of these stories so that you're not getting all of the heat on the internet.’
And I'm like, ‘No, I feel like at this point, it's a point of pride and also responsibility.’
For me, and so if it really came down to it, and there was a story I had to conflict out of, I would trust the other reporter on our team to handle it with grace and empathy.
And sometimes with other reporting, it's just a lack of knowledge from the community. And that results in harm for people who see their stories covered not well or see mistakes in reporters who didn't even think to ask their pronouns before assuming based off of what they saw.
And I just see these comments from my community, see the times that media has hurt them or felt like it further marginalized them. And I kind of feel like as somebody who has access to this space, as somebody who has a has a pen and has a platform, that in any way I can to step up and make sure that like the story of the crosswalk is being told in a lens that centers the people who made that art, the people who feel seen by that art, and not the people who show up at city council every night, talking about how it should have been set on fire some more, the conflict aspect of it — instead centering community.
And I feel like that's something that's a lot harder to do. If you're not in community, it's way easier to center conflict than the heart of something.
OH: Tracy, I'm curious — there is an inherent delicacy that comes with covering religion. And then, as you mentioned, you're often adding this extra complication of covering it (a) as a queer person, but (b) including queer stories in this.
I'm wondering if you could talk to me a little bit more about that process for you
TS: I mean, I think we view all these sensitive issues around religion with equal care, I hope, right? Like we're going to go ahead and talk about politics. We're gonna talk about abortion. We're gonna talk about all of these social issues that people are fighting over right now.
And, you know, LGBT issues, unfortunately, are just one of those issues. So I think it's important to focus on it and address it. And for me, I remember when I first started out, I was a reporter in south Texas — that's where I came out.
And I didn't want anyone to know I was gay. I was covering religion, and I didn't know how people would view me. And so I was closeted.
And then when I finally let go of that, and I was just transparent, I find that people really have a lot more respect for the work that I do, even if they don't agree.
I write a column for The Spokesman. And one of the very first columns I ever wrote was called ‘Jesus Would Bake the Cake.’
And that was my very public way of just saying, ‘Hey, I'm queer, I'm a journalist, I ask you personal questions, and I'm going to share some personal stuff with you.’
And I think some of my colleagues would probably frown on me writing a column and doing reporting. But I think that that transparency and that vulnerability has gotten me really far.
OH: That's something I've heard a lot in the conversations I've heard and been a part of with other journalists about how much of yourself to be transparent, about how much of yourself to include in the reporting process, even if you as the journalist are not part of the story itself.
Erin and Colton, both of you talked a lot about the responsibility you feel, the sensitivity you want to have, the care you want to have with your sources. Maybe you're having a conversation with a queer person in North Idaho who's not living in a very supportive space, but you yourself maybe have shared some of their experiences. Is that something you feel comfortable talking about with the source? Or is that something that you think, as a journalist, I need to keep that back?
CR: I think that can make our reporting stronger, even. I've had some of my best conversations when bringing up personal things. For reference, before I came to the Inlander two summers ago, I worked at a really small paper in a really small town in North Dakota.
And it was a place where I was out, but I also just didn't feel comfortable openly talking about that. But now, in Spokane, I feel more comfortable with that being available. It's not something I'm going to write a whole column about.
But I think in my intro to our Pride section this year, I used specific terms like ‘we.’ Those are kind of important to me, at least, because recognizing that this is my community, it is something that I'm a part of. When we're talking about these issues, I am impacted. It's my job to report on those issues.
But I can also take a step back and say, ‘This is something that affects me and the people that I love.’ But I don't know, I think it's still important to do.
ES: It's funny you bring up North Idaho. I grew up in a really small town in Idaho, and I was not out until I moved to Washington. And over the last year, I've been doing some reporting on what it's like to be queer and still live in Idaho.
I've been talking to the people that stayed, the people that even chose to move there, the people that are living their authentic lives in a state that is progressively passing more and more harmful legislation. And every time I start one of those interviews, it is really hard to know how much of myself to bring. I don't want to overlay my experience onto theirs or color the stories that they're going to tell me.
But also, I think sometimes people are nervous to talk to a journalist. So I'm always kind of weighing ‘How much of myself do I share here?’
I don't want to shape their quotes or lead them to anything by virtue of sharing my own experience. But I do want to let them know that I've been there, I can empathize, like, ‘You're not talking at a brick wall. I'm not going to misrepresent your feelings here. Like, I understand that what you're experiencing is really complicated.’
And so it's always kind of like a weird little dance for me, a juggling act. And it honestly kind of depends on the sources.
OH: Tracy, you had talked before about making sure in your own reporting process that you're going to accurately represent the views of everybody on these issues. It sounded to me like you were checking your own biases. I know that's also part of the ongoing conversation about fairness versus objectivity versus neutrality.
When your identity is, to some people, up for debate, how do you think about how much credence or time and words in your story to lend to somebody who might disagree with your own existence or rights?
TS: I really wrestled with it with the Hetero Awesome [sic] Fest. So the two men that I interviewed for the story, they just assumed that I agreed with them, right? And that happens a lot in the religion world. People just assume I'm whatever religion they are, and I'm the same orientation they are.
I didn't feel it was my place to correct him. I also didn't feel safe telling him like, ‘Oh, by the way, I'm a queer woman married to another woman,’ because the interview would have been shut down.
And sometimes I think I almost am too empathetic, trying to, I don't know, give him too much space. So I would say in this story, like 60% of the interviews go to these guys, and the rest just goes to the affirming folks.
And so sometimes I think maybe I'm trying too hard to be balanced. But this story was about Idaho's newly passed Traditional Family Values Month.
And so that's the story that I was going for. And I just happened to stumble upon this interesting thing.
ES: I kind of wanted to touch on the objectivity fairness question you asked, Tracy, if that's okay.
OH: Absolutely.
ES: I've been thinking about this a lot. And I feel like I have the privilege or like luck to work for an outlet that makes it very clear: We're not striving for neutrality or objectivity in the traditional sense, but we are striving for fairness.
And so what fairness looks like, especially in stories that cover queer issues is always a little bit of a wrestle. When I'm covering something that's specifically a community story, like Colton, mentioned the Louis Stay story, that's something where it's really easy.
You center this person, you don't go asking around for people who hate them or have something nasty to say. But when I cover politics issues, it's like there's always two sides to something.
And with the recent LGBTQIA2S+ affirming ordinance that the council passed, I covered that a couple times, both in advance of it and after it passed. And I found myself really grappling with this question.
There was a council member who proposed some amendments to the ordinance that were, frankly, transphobic. They would have asked the library and the park board to ban trans women from bathrooms.
And they would have said that Bloomsday or Hoopfest, any sports event that gets city funding has to maintain really bio-essentialist categories.
And I knew these amendments weren't going to pass. I knew they probably weren't even going to get discussed in public, because the way late introduced amendments work is they just get handled at an agenda review session that almost nobody goes to.
And so I was really trying to balance ‘How much air or like oxygen do I give these when I know they're not going anywhere, but also it is that opposing viewpoint that's happening in the political sphere?’
And so I did add them into my story, but I didn't go do a bunch of interviews about, ‘Well, why do you feel this way? And what do you think about trans people?’
But I just chose to mention that they were happening, outline what they were. And also, I added a line afterwards that might not be a traditional journalistic line that was like, ‘These are likely not going to pass. It's not worth having a panic about that the government might be coming for your rights here, because there's probably not. There's not even close to a majority amount of votes.’
But yeah, I just — I feel like wrestling with what fairness looks like is always hard when covering these politics issues.
OH: When it comes to your own emotional well-being with some of these stories, it can get complicated. How do you navigate trying to pursue stories that you know are worthwhile while protecting your own emotional and mental well-being as a person and not just as a journalist?
ES: I'm fully willing to throw my mental and emotional well-being down the stairs every time for a good story. I have had some actual safety concerns.
I think by virtue of being a city hall reporter, it's pretty easy to know where I'm going to be any given Monday. I changed my hair color, because it was, like, bright purple.
I know this is radio. I look pretty — I flag pretty gay. And I had bright purple hair for a while. And somebody who comes to city council meetings and like testifies to some pretty nasty things about queer people like found me at a bus stop and started yelling at me.
And you know, we get trained to de-escalation. I was very much like, ‘I'm not on the clock. I'm not getting paid to talk to you. I'm not going to talk to you. I'm waiting for my bus. Leave me alone.’ Like, gray rock, you know?
But it did make me realize just how easy it is to spot me from a distance. So I changed my hair color. But — sorry, that was a little bit of a tangent. I guess I'm just saying that like, for better or for worse, I'm not worried about my own emotional well-being.
When I burn out, it happens. I'll take time off. But I am a little bit more concerned about my physical safety sometimes.
TS: There have been plenty of times, kind of like Erin, where I'm going to pursue the story and take myself out of it. But then I'm going to deal with it after.
Like, there have been plenty of times where I've interviewed somebody. And then I've gotten in my car and just cried or called somebody and just to vent and tell them what I just heard.
Writing about religion is a very personal thing. And so yeah, I've been in — I've been in interview situations that are really offensive to me and really hurtful. And people have said horrible things about queer people, usually not knowing that I'm part of the community at that time.
As far as the story I mentioned earlier, the reason why I mentioned safety is even though it was a phone interview, and they're in Boise, and I'm in Pullman, they said their mission — they're starting a new nonprofit — is to expose queer people.
And I was like, ‘Oh, gosh, if this guy does a deep dive on me…’ you know, but what is he going to expose? I'm already out there.
CR: I haven't had as many worries about my safety. I think that's a privilege that I have presenting as a man in this community.
I also maybe I just haven't put myself in any hard situations like that in my reporting. I'm not sure if that's coincidence, and luck or my own work, but I generally feel like I'm pretty out there as well.
I mean, like Erin said, I flag pretty gay. And yeah, it's hard to stay hidden when you talk like I do or look like I do. So I don't think I've had as many worries there.
OH: And for your own — your emotional well being, is it the case that you're also a person who would just pursue the story and deal with the consequences afterwards or like taking care of yourself mid reporting process? What does that process look like for you?
CR: I think it's definitely taking care of myself afterwards. I don't know if this is too high and mighty, but as part of that responsibility on reporting for the queer community as a part of the queer community, I kind of feel like that's maybe a burden that I can bear. It's something that I've been trained to bear.
And it feels good to be able to maybe like, again, I know we're not supposed to read like Facebook comments, right? But I do read those. And sometimes I'll respond, or sometimes I'll try not to give this light to these people. But I feel like as someone in the media as someone who's openly queer, it might be my job to do that.
Whereas random people who are just living their day to day life and who don't want to be part of that aren't going to be targeted.
OH: So we've talked a lot about the journalism side of being a queer journalist. But when it comes to just being a person in the community, participating in something like a Pride festival or a Pride march might look like a political statement when there are actively local and regional policymakers who are seeking to target the trans community or target LGBTQ literature.
Is that kind of active participation in the community something you're personally comfortable with? Or is there ever a worry that your participation in something like this would create an appearance of bias, which is something many journalists strive to avoid? How do you all feel about that kind of public participation?
TS: I mean, if I was like, ‘OK, my assignment today is to cover the Pride Parade,’ I wouldn't march in it, right? But that's not what I do.
And so I think it's important to show that, ‘Hey, I'm marching in this parade. I'm part of the queer community. And hey, you over there who are protesting, I've interviewed you and that story was fair, right?’
And so as much as I'm a journalist, I'm also a gay woman. And so I don't have any issue participating. I also want — I don't know — it's a time for people to be seen who maybe aren't always.
And so I just — yeah — I think it's important to be in community with them, especially during Pride.
OH: Yeah, I would have to agree. I have no problem participating in Pride or even attending Pride.
But the one thing I kind of worry about is volunteering for Pride. That's one thing I really did want to do this year. I thought about it a lot.
I would love to give back my time to my community, but I also worried about that appearance of bias. And so ultimately, I made the choice not to volunteer so that my reporting and the work that I'm doing there can kind of shine through without maybe this dim light of the appearance of bias, you know, and that's kind of where I've gone.
ES: I'm in the same boat. If I'm covering something, I can't participate in it. Same with any protest, whether it was Pride or for something else. But I explicitly made it very clear that I will not be working at Pride ever.
Maybe it needs a queer journalist to cover it, but also everybody knows what the vibes are, and I would like to be down there celebrating with my community. I'd like to have a day off to just relax and party and celebrate.
OH: In a place like the Inland Northwest, how do you navigate being an active participant in your own community, in your personal life, when you're off the clock, when that might mean you end up in conversation with newsmakers or at an event that may turn out to be newsworthy, but you aren't there as a journalist? How does that look for each of you?
TS: Well, I think if I'm at an event as a queer person, off the clock, and something newsworthy happens, I'm going to put that hat back on and probably try to cover it.
But the other hat that I wear is as a journalism professor. And so I want to be an example to my students and say, ‘Hey, you can be an active part of the community and be who you are without any shame.’
So that's really important to me. I want my students to see me out and about and celebrating with my wife, and same with my readers and stuff, because like I said, I write a column. I'm very open. People know very personal things about me, and so I think they should see me out in the community.
ES: I kind of recently came up against my very first strong conflict. Somebody that I had very much started forming queer community with — you know, was there for her coming out journey, and we were supportive. And she gave me permission to talk about this, Sarah Dixit, who's running for City Council District 1.
And at the time we met and became friends, she was obviously not running for council. That was not a thing that she told me she was interested in doing. And even if she did, I don't know that that would have been like a disqualifier for forming community or being friends.
But as soon as she declared her campaign, I was like, ‘Okay, this is like the first thing where I want to exercise my right to be a queer person in community. I want to be there with people. I want to make friends. I want to, you know, answer those questions about what it's like to come out.’
And now I'm kind of dealing with the consequences of that a little bit. But the consequences are just that I have to recuse myself from covering a race I would ordinarily be interested in. So I think those are like the things I kind of have to weigh.
But I feel like it would kind of be like that in any community, right? Like, if you're really into fishing, and you hang out with your bros, and you go fishing, and then all of a sudden, one of them runs for office, you probably wouldn't be able to cover that either.
OH: You know, you bring up like the, the idea that something might be disqualifying, or like that you need to think about a specific time and place to talk to the — to a person that maybe you would have ordinarily talked to. You know, Spokane, as I mentioned, there's not a plethora of places where queer people tend to gather, there's just a few. And so we have an openly queer city council member.
ES: I've seen Zack Zappone at Nyne before.
OH: And so I guess I'm curious, let's say you run into a city official at Pride, or you run into someone that you ordinarily would be covering, but both of you are off the clock. What kind of relationship can you even have to that person? How much of an arm's length do you have to keep? How do you walk that line?
ES: That happened to me last Pride, I was in the beer garden, and Zack Zappone came up to me. And he was like, ‘This beer garden, right? Like, remember my ordinance about beer gardens?’
And I was like, ‘Zack, it is Pride. We're both off the clock; we're not talking about your beer garden ordinance.’
And so we stopped talking about city politics and just had a real conversation. But the whole time I was thinking, ‘Is this weird? Is this weird? This is, you know, the city council member, he sits at the dais, I sit at the media table.’
So I don't know that I have a good answer to what the morally correct thing to do is, but I always do try to draw that boundary of, if we're not on work time, and we're not here talking about — we're not here for work, let's just be queer people in a queer space, enjoying ourselves. Let's not try to talk about city council stuff.
