The visual of men embracing has sparked outrage throughout history, across land and sea. Wherever evidence of homosexuality has been found in any culture, controversy—and often fatal danger—soon followed. Despite this, gay men worldwide have continually chosen to risk their lives for each other.
But there’s evidence to suggest that gayness might once have been revered, at least enough to inspire a tomb fit for Ancient Egyptian royalty.
On November 12, 1964, Chief Inspector of Lower Egypt Mounir Basta led an expedition into the depths of a recently excavated burial shaft within the necropolis. Accompanied by diligent workmen, he descended into history, relying solely on the flickering glow of a kerosene lamp to illuminate their path.
Many scholars, epistemologists, and archeologists believe they discovered the first documented depiction of a gay couple inside the 5th Dynasty tomb of Niankhkhnum and Khnumhotep.
The entrance to the tomb is inscribed with the words: “JOINED IN LIFE AND JOINED IN DEATH.” Inside rest the royal manicurists Niankhkhnum and Khnumhotep, described in hieroglyphics as “royal confidants” to King Nyuserre Ini, a relationship reminiscent of the bonds many people share with their manicurists today. As personal groomers to the pharaoh, they were highly respected and among the fortunate few privileged to touch and cultivate a close relationship with him.
But what shocked the archeological world is the question mark hovering over their connection. Why were they sharing a tomb in such a romantic way?
The Legacy Project reported one thing as certain: “Two men of equal social standing being buried together in the same tomb – in spite of the fact that they were undoubtedly married to women – was unique.”
Award-winning scholar Raven Todd Da Silva vlogged about the discovery, urging the importance of independent thinking when looking for clues about the past.
“We’re all too aware of queer erasure in history,” said Da Silva. “There were so many gay couples in history that all these older historians described as ‘close friends’ or ‘roommates,’ especially for women.”
There were panels portraying their families, but their respective wives and children figures were featured almost as extras and never in an intimate manner. Regardless, some scholars argued their presence refuted any potential notion that Niankhkhnum and Khnumhotep could be lovers. They speculated they could’ve been twins.
A queer Egyptology student at the University of Liverpool, Tamar Atkinson, argued that the “overall issue with these arguments is that they are set too heavily within the contemporary ideas of today. To dismiss the possibility entirely of same-sex desire being the case here may give in to the heteronormativity of many modern social attitudes.”
Egyptian culture heavily emphasized kinship and procreation for the next lineage. As part of the pharaoh’s inner circle, it was most likely expected – if not demanded – of them to follow suit in tradition.
French archaeologist Nadine Sherpion studied intimate portraits of heterosexual husbands and wives in tombs in Egypt’s fourth, fifth, and sixth dynasties to determine the iconographic trends and rules followed to portray a conjugal relationship.
In other words, she became an expert in discerning who was boning and concluded that the intimate poses shared between Niankhkhnum and Khnumhotep could have been used in a hieroglyphic Grindr.
Most famously, the image of the men touching noses was the most intimate pose allowed by canonical Egyptian art. Beyond affection, Khnumhotep is uniquely depicted in activities reserved for women in Old Kingdom art, such as smelling a lotus.
If they were indeed lovers, perhaps the most telling aspect of their culture would be the tomb’s significance—it is considered one of the largest and most beautiful in the necropolis. This suggests that the pharaoh accepted them and held them and their relationship in high esteem despite the rarity of their iconography.
The gay tomb would make King Nyuserre Ini the first recorded LGBTQ+ ally.
Still, the tug-of-war between whether they were lovers or brothers continues to be debated decades later, of course, the queer community championing the historical visibility.
A professor of ancient Egyptian art at NYU recently suggested they could’ve been conjoined twins.
Da Silva added that this theory could be supported by the fact ancient Egyptians “seem to celebrate people who were different and viewed them as auspicious…and attested to the creator God’s ability to create things in whichever form He pleased.”
It is an ideology that sounds like gay rights from whichever angle, but the professor’s conjoined theory still doesn’t explain the romantic vibes.
Everyone’s free to come to their own interpretations. But the possibility of gayness being put on a royal pedestal could be a glimmer of hope that love and acceptance happened before judgment and hatred.
Through that lens, society could undoubtedly benefit by revisiting the old ways.
As an undercover Colombian anti-drug agent during Pablo Escobar’s reign, Andrea Montanez has learned a thing or two about hiding her identity.
Of course, this was before she identified as trans or transitioned, which wouldn’t occur until after she sought refuge in Florida 24 years ago. You could say she has feared for her life on multiple fronts, but Montanez has never stopped worrying about her queerness putting her in danger.
When asked who is more capable of evil, the most infamous kingpin in history or Florida Governor Ron DeSantis (R), she laughs at the loaded question.
“I think Ron Desantis is more diabolic,” she tells LGBTQ Nation. “You know, [Escobar] is directly bad, and the other one, you never know. To confront Escobar, you know what you have to do. But with this one, it’s so hard figuring out.”
In other words, it’s better to deal with the devil you know than the devil you don’t – especially when he is running for president of the United States. Escobar might have murdered in cold blood, but he owned it, even if the logic was drugs, money, or an eye for an eye. On the other hand, Desantis ascended the ranks as a puppet of blind hate, and Florida elected him their puppeteer.
America might’ve been founded as the land of the free, but the individualized governing power of states has created alternate realities for law and justice. LGBTQ+ communities governed by conservative extremists are living in textbook dystopias. Florida is one of them.
After stepping into her true self, Montanez began to help others harness their courage. She lives in Orlando, working at Hope Community Center, where she focuses on helping queer immigrants.
She says her parents are old (“viejitos”) and don’t understand trans identities. But they no longer argue. She has a good relationship with her sister but is estranged from her brother. For this reason, she understands some people have no physical or emotional sense of home. Part of her work is visiting and educating families with queer children.
Montanez fears the state is losing the battle for equality to ignorance. “I don’t know how people can think being transgender is contagious, that we want everyone to be trans,” she says, “This is not a recruitment team! To be trans, you really have to be so special because at this moment, with all this hate, with all these people against you, thinking it’s bad if you go to the bathroom, it’s bad if you play sports.”
And not to mention, doomsday for trans people is always a lousy piece of legislation away. But the worst-case scenario is already here. Nearly half of LGBTQ+ youth seriously considered attempting suicide last year, according to a survey from the Trevor Project.
Angel Nelson helps queer individuals access pivotal resources as program director for Miracle of Love, the oldest community-based minority HIV/AIDS organization in Central Florida. They tell LGBTQ Nation that they’ve recently been urging trans people to prioritize their needs as the political climate rapidly darkens in the Sunshine State.
“[Queer organizations] have been adamant about trying to get trans individuals connected to resources to get hormones, name changes, and gender marker changes just because we’re all gearing up for what could happen in Florida if Rhonda [Desantis] has his way and essentially strips our rights and privileges.”
As a Black nonbinary trans person, Nelson is triggered by Republican persecution. They say people tend to forget Florida’s tumultuous history of racism. Like Montanez, they know what it’s like to be rejected from both sides of your identity because your skin exists at the intersection.
Nelson says the individual experience of discrimination propels communities to advocate solely for their own causes. However, his duality makes them palpably aware you can’t pick and choose when it comes to morality. Regarding activism, the elephant in the voting booths is that some people will hate your identity – whether it be sexuality, ethnicity, or both – no matter how much science or data you show them.
Perhaps that’s what radical conservative leaders are counting on when they take their stances; it’s what empowered a now criminally-convicted Donald Trump to abandon decorum, crown himself king, and incite a deadly Capitol riot.
Nelson tries to decipher between people with hate in their hearts and uneducated folks who are susceptible to manipulation and widespread Internet misinformation. They say they didn’t meet their first trans person until they were 21 years old, which helped them solve the mystery of who they were.
“I grew up in Brevard County, so I was pretty suburban and sheltered. I came out at 15, but I definitely was more than just a gay male. Like, I just didn’t know how I was going to manifest that and express it at the time,” Nelson says.
They emphasize there’s a stereotype society pushes on the nonbinary realm to be this hybrid of masculine and feminine traits. You cannot tell a person how to present themselves or self-identify. Cis-presenting doesn’t negate someone’s identity.
Many of Nelson’s peers have already left or made plans to leave Florida, but the population who doesn’t have that choice keeps them motivated to stay. As a veteran who served in Iraq, they question if the LGBTQ+ community abandons the state, who will fight for those left behind or born tomorrow?
“The people in power have noticed that millennials and Gen Z’s mindsets are changing from the traditional ideology,” says Nelson, “And by banning books and education, and by limiting their access to resources, I feel like they’re trying to lay the blueprint for forcing their hateful ideology.”
Beyond censorship, one can look at the disconnect between the concerns Republican leaders advocate on their platform and the legislation being implemented. Most infamously, their cries of “What about the children?!” materialized as a strategic facade to gain the support to cage LGBTQ+ adults. And like the overturn of Roe vs. Wade, poor communities will suffer the consequences.
Daniel J. Downer, executive director of the Bros in Combo Initiative, tells LGBTQ Nation the most urgent issue in Florida is the extreme legislation banning best practice medical care for transgender or gender non-conforming/nonbinary youth and adults on Medicaid or uninsured.
Although a judge ruled it unconstitutional, Downer says resources in Central Florida, where he is based, have dwindled. Providers are jumping the gun to avoid harassment or repercussion for aiding queer individuals.
“I had a call yesterday from someone at a local college, and they’re trying to get affirmative care. And literally, in our conversation, while doing the research, I realized that three medical providers I had on the list were no longer providing care to uninsured individuals or on Medicaid,” says Downer.
That fear is not unlike why so many gay Black and Latino Floridians, in particular, have refrained from getting their Mpox vaccine. Their culture makes them believe it’s better to endanger their health to protect themselves from stigma.
But Downer says it’s not as easy as education. Organizations need to create awareness while understanding the nuance of identity. They must understand these communities’ limited power and privilege and their hesitancy to engage. He explains there’s always been some form of implicit or conscious bias on the part of medical providers regarding Black and brown bodies.
“[People of color] have to wake up in the morning wondering about their safety,” says Downer, “If when they go outside the door, someone’s going to hurt them and then blame them for it. And I even think of it from the lens of our undocumented and immigrant siblings. Not only are they being hit with these anti-LGBTQ+ attacks, they’re also being hit with anti-immigrant legislation.”
Downer points to his own privilege as a gay cis-male and how that further emboldens him to show up for trans and nonbinary folks.
Allyship cannot be thrown around without merit; solidarity cannot be used interchangeably with merely personally supporting the letters LGBTQ. Both stem from taking action. Downer suggests researching and physically going to local smaller organizations and asking what they need. They don’t receive the financial support or volunteers typically given to the large metropolitan ones.
Montanez adds there have been moments of celebration amid the gloom, which echoes the history of a community that has always reached for a silver lining. Even when their only reason to smile was each other. Hope Community Center just hosted Pride in Apopka, and Montanez took it upon herself to also invite women and immigrants helped by her organization, along with mariachis.
After all, unity among every oppressed person makes the opposing side seem fewer in numbers. Montanez jokes, “If Escobar couldn’t kill me, neither will Ron Desantis.”
If you or someone you know is struggling or in crisis, help is available. Call or text 988 or chat at 988lifeline.org. The Trans Lifeline (1-877-565-8860) is staffed by trans people and will not contact law enforcement. The Trevor Project provides a safe, judgement-free place to talk for youth via chat, text (678-678), or phone (1-866-488-7386). Help is available at all three resources in English and Spanish.
Kelley Robinson was leading Planned Parenthood Action Fund’s political arm when the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade in June 2022.
She was sitting in a room full of abortion providers at the time.
Before they could internalize what the news meant for the future of reproductive rights, every staff member had to get on the phone and call pregnant women across the nation to tell them that the appointments they had planned that week, or that day, could not move forward.
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Robinson knows what it’s like to show up and do the work no matter what, even when you’re holding back tears because you’re forced to explain to women they lost autonomy over their bodies.
In November 2022, she was elected the ninth president of the Human Rights Campaign (HRC), becoming the first Black queer woman to hold the position in the civil rights group’s 40-year existence.
Now she aspires to be the first Black queer woman to spearhead the HRC infundamentally changing the country and its systems of power.
Before accepting the position, Robinson, who resides in Washington DC with her wife and children, thought about what the job would mean for their safety in a time of unprecedented threats against prominent queer people and others.
She sits at the head of the most prominent LGBTQ+ advocacy group in the United States. With that responsibility comes the reality that there are bigots who would do anything to try and stop the organization’s mission for equality.
LGBTQ Nation chatted with Robinson at a pivotal moment in political history with queer equality under attack everywhere from red states all the way up to the conservative majority Supreme Court.
LGBTQ NATION: What does fighting for queer rights mean to you in 2023?
KELLEY ROBINSON: I come to this work as a Black woman, as a queer person, as a wife, and as a mom. And there are so many issues that matter to people in the community because we hold all of these identities, right? But I think the powerful thing is that when we engage in fights, what we’re actually doing is opening up more rights and freedoms for everyone.
You can’t get to liberation without racial justice; you can’t get there without disability rights, immigration justice, climate change, and climate reform. All of these pieces are key to us actually getting free. So this moment for me is both about a crisis at hand and the fact that because of this unique crisis, we have unparalleled opportunities to advance change in a way that we have not seen happen in generations. And for that, I’m really hopeful for the fight.
“You can’t get to liberation without racial justice; you can’t get there without disability rights, immigration justice, climate change, and climate reform.“Kelley Robinson
LGBTQ NATION: It took 40 years for HRC to name their first Black queer woman president. Why do you think that is, and how does the weight of that honor feel?
KR: I am really clear that there’s a responsibility at hand. I think the task for HRC is to make sure that every LGBTQ+ person in this country knows that when we talk about fighting for equality, we are talking about them.
So to be honest with you, I don’t think that there was another moment in time where people were ready for the leadership of a Black woman of this organization until right now. And now that I’m here, hmmmppff! We’re bout’ to take them down, okay!
LGBTQ NATION: How do you prioritize the most urgent issues?
KR: The biggest thing to understand is that we cannot be single-issue. You have to talk about the violence happening in Black trans communities, particularly against Black trans women. At the same time, be able to talk about how it is a disgrace that we are still living with the HIV epidemic in this country. At the same time, also be able to talk about the issues facing folks related to discrimination across this country because of the loopholes created under the guise of, you know, “religious freedoms.”
LGBTQ NATION: In politics, there’s often that saying, especially when it comes to voting, choosing the lesser of two evils.
KR: I don’t think that we actually have to stand for that anymore. We’re at a point where we’re thinking about transformational politics. Look at Pennsylvania as a great example. Nobody would have thought that we’d be standing here at the end of the 2022 cycle, where we’ve taken back both chambers in Pennsylvania, and the governorship is able to advance progress. You also have the first out Black lesbian elected to the legislature with La’Tasha D. Mayes coming out of Pittsburgh. That means there’s an opportunity for us to not deal with politics as usual but instead to think about who the champions are that we can elect on behalf of our people.
If I were to think about ways that we are really pushing the Democratic party to be accountable, it’s there. We’re not just voting against people anymore. We need people that we can vote for.
LGBTQ NATION: And speaking about accountability, what would you say is the liberal agenda’s Achilles heel, if there is one?
KR: Hahahaha, what a loaded question! The liberal agenda’s Achilles heel…
LGBTQ NATION: Oh my gosh, sorry, you’re right. I now hear that wording. But is there an urgent issue that we need to fix internally?
KR: Because there are problems in progressive politics doesn’t mean that we don’t still engage and operate.
I also want to say that our issue is beyond partisanship. Like, even if you look at the Bipartisan Safer Communities Act gun safety bill, we had an incredible amount of Republican support. They know we’ve created an issue you cannot be against because the people’s will is with it.
The Achilles heel is that we can’t take voters for granted. And I think that for too long progressive institutions have taken the support of people of color and queer folks for granted. We have to deliver on behalf of these communities to motivate and engage them in the fight and in the work.
LGBTQ NATION: We had at least 340 LGBTQ+ candidates win their elections across the nation, surpassing the previous record of 336 set in 2020.
KR: We saw a rainbow wave come through, not a red wave, which was huge. We need to ensure that we demystify the process of running for office because there’s no reason you shouldn’t be running for office.
LGBTQ NATION: Regarding voting, HRC polling estimates that queer voters will make up increasingly large parts of the electorate as Gen Z ages into adulthood. How do we wield this power?
KR: The biggest threat to progressivism is not our opposition. It’s actually people that are with us feeling disillusioned by the system. There are so many ways our opposition has rigged it. We don’t have a representative democracy right now because of the gerrymandering that’s taken place. And the way that the Senate is set up to not actually represent the will of the people.
To take advantage of the demographic shifts, we’ve got to make sure that we’re giving people a meaningful way to engage and fixing the system so that they know that when they vote, it will actually make a difference. So some of the work we’re doing around voter reform and ensuring that we’re protecting things like the right to protest are key there.
LGBTQ NATION: You were executive director of Planned Parenthood for three years. And you worked with the organization for 12. What are the looming implications of Roe v. Wade being overturned?
KR: Man, they are huge. The big picture implication is that we’re now dealing with a Supreme Court that’s in the business of taking away rights. And if that’s our reality, that’s a very dangerous one when we think about what else could be rolled back.
The other piece of it is, I think when you look in the global context at ways that authoritarianism has moved in countries. Normally, the first thing they come after is gender, right? Trying to reduce people’s rights and powers based on gender, which we see with Roe, and we also see with the trans attacks. And the second thing they come after is education, which we also see with the “Don’t Say Gay or Trans” bills that are moving in states and the threat to “Critical Race Theory.”
What we saw happened during Roe; that’s like the canary in the coal mine moment. We all have a responsibility to fight back here for the sake of our democracy.
LGBTQ NATION: All these issues are important, but trans issues are one of the issues that voters haven’t rallied around. Less than 5% of voters that the HRC polled said they were motivated by trans issues. How do we get people to care about trans lives?
KR: A lot of it is about storytelling and visibility and representation. GLAAD has an interesting stat: More people believe they have seen a ghost than a trans person. Ain’t that something?
LGBTQ NATION: I’m waiting for the punchline for that one…
KR: Yeah! It’s kind of like, wow. When you hear it, the reality is quite dangerous. Because people don’t understand that trans folks – trans kids – are just our kids. We have to do a better job of storytelling and representation. Because if we don’t, the opposition is seeking to criminalize trans folks, dehumanize our trans family, or, at worst, create a world where they’re seen as dangerous – that cannot happen.
LGBTQ NATION: I hope you don’t mind if I get a little personal. Stacy Stevenson, the head of Family Equality, said she moved to DC from Texas because of safety concerns. Of course, having been the head of Planned Parenthood, you know about the dangers that exists in fighting for human rights. But now you are literally the face of what the radical right sees as the most threatening organization to their agenda. Did you have any fears or think about your safety when taking the position? Is this a conversation you’ve had with loved ones, and how did you navigate this?
KR: Before I took this role, my wife and I had a long conversation about what it would mean for us and our family. I’ve been an organizer and a movement activist for a long time. And I don’t know exactly when we started to believe that doing this work was safe. Because it’s not. We are fundamentally challenging the systems of power – we’re trying to change the country.
When we talk about leaders that have done it, like Martin Luther King, and John Lewis, they didn’t do it without risks. And I’m not saying that all of us should be putting ourselves in the line of danger. But what I am saying is that for us to get free, it’s going to take risks.
For some of us, that risk will be telling your story in a powerful way. For some, it’s going to be being brave enough to live as your full self when you go to school or go to work. And for others, the job is like mine, to step up every day and fight relentlessly for our people.