I worked for Rep. Marcy Kaptur. Now I am watching her attack my queer community for political points.

By Nick Fulton

In 2020, I found myself making a decision that would change the trajectory of my career. As COVID was hitting new highs and internships moved online, I was given the ability to report remotely to Congresswoman Marcy Kaptur’s West Cleveland office for an internship my senior year of college. 

Among the many experiences that shaped me in Rep. Kaptur’s office was having the opportunity to draft her floor speech honoring the passing of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. I held so much pride in the work that I did in that office, during a very nontraditional college internship experience. 

Six years later, I am a queer movement journalist who covers how people with political power act as an obstacle to LGBTQIA+ liberation. I am watching in real time Rep. Kaptur be that obstacle. 

In two ads that ran recently, the congresswoman makes a desperate appeal to conservative voters. 

“Well, here’s the truth: I voted with Republicans to keep transgender ideology out of our schools, because parents know what’s best for their kids – and boys should not play in girls sports,” Rep. Kaptur says in one of the videos.

The sad part is, she’s right. Not about her transphobic appeal to the political right, but about her record. 

As reported by The Buckeye Flame, in May, Kaptur was one of a handful of Democrats to side with Republicans on House Resolution 2616. The now-passed House bill (it has not passed the Senate) requires public elementary and middle-school teachers to out LGBTQIA+ students to their legal guardians. 

I am an openly queer person. I was queer when I worked for Rep. Kaptur in 2020. As a progressive in Ohio, I had few options to build my resume in order to relocate to D.C. after graduation. Rep. Kaptur was just one of four Democratic members of Ohio’s congressional delegation; my options were not overflowing. 

As a young person without qualifications or connections, I don’t regret my decision to work for the Congresswoman. Soon after graduation, I moved to D.C. to work for some of the most progressive human rights organizations in the country, and I know my Capitol Hill experience supported those dreams. 

Yet as a 27-year-old working journalist who challenges oppression and interrogates transphobia daily, I am embarrassed at Rep. Kaptur’s name on my resume. So much so that I removed it. 

For my trans friends and neighbors, allyship can’t just be wishful thinking. It has to be loud, vibrant and intentional. Smiling and waving at Rep. Kaptur’s actions are a discredit to the role I hope to have in the movement. 

I grew up in a conservative Southern Baptist household in central Ohio. I was a closeted kid in Ohio’s public school system. I confided in teachers who I trusted to protect me. The very protection that Rep. Kaptur bulldozed in May. 

Growing up gay in Ohio is not always easy; I can not imagine how incredibly challenging it is to exist in a trans body in the rooms I grew up in. 

Rep. Kaptur might win over some far-right transphobes with this ad, but she is losing her integrity–and every queer voter who thought that her democratic membership meant allyship. 

I am not ignorant to what is waiting on the other side of the aisle. I know Rep. Kaptur’s challenger, former Ohio State Rep. Derek Merrin, will make my community feel unsafe. 

But accountability doesn’t have to look like Rep. Kaptur losing. If the Congresswoman ever hopes to earn the support of queer and trans people, she has to share space with us.  She has to apologize for the harm she’s done. She has to reckon with how her past actions will translate into generational hate. 

As Rep. Kaptur hopes voters will send her back to Congress for a 23rd term, I truly hope that her constituents challenge her by telling her they see these votes and ads for what they are: a reflection of the Congresswoman’s lack of integrity. 

If Rep. Kaptur so easily folds on trans rights, you have to wonder how she will vote when her Republican colleagues challenge marriage equality. 

Nick Fulton is a queer social movement journalist who has covered politics, protests, elections, and culture for over a dozen outlets, including Truthout, Salon, Prism, Common Dreams and Queerty. Nick is also the editor of The Fourth Estate, a publication covering the journalism industry’s fight for survival.