
U.K. to Cut Foreign Workers, the ‘Backbone' of British Nursing Homes
Tori Ferenc for The Washington Post
Jeremiah Akindotun helps Edna Barnett with her crossword puzzle at Hammerson House, a 116-room nursing home in north London where 58 percent of the clinical staff come from 49 different countries.
LONDON – The 23-year-old Nigerian man handed the 78-year-old British woman her noon pill and, on a sunny June day, sat down for a little chat amid the family photos lining her wall.
'Will you miss me if I leave?' Jeremiah Akindotun asked with a smile.
'Oh, I think it's too sad, Jerry,' said Suad Lawy, sitting back in her chair. 'You get so attached. What's going to happen to our carers?'
Akindotun is a health assistant at Hammerson House, a 116-room nursing home in north London where 58 percent of the clinical staff come from 49 different countries. Across the United Kingdom, foreign workers commonly provide intimate care to elderly Brits, with nearly a third of care staff coming from overseas.
But maybe not for long. The British government, struggling to address immigration tensions, announced last month that it was ending the special overseas recruitment program that has been a pipeline for care workers in recent years.
Officials said the move was necessary to make the care system less dependent on foreign labor and to root out fraud and exploitation in the fast-track care worker visa program, which was initiated five years ago to ease a staffing crisis in the care industry, one of Britain's biggest employment sectors.
The plan funneled more than 220,000 workers into facilities around the country, according to a government-sponsored database, but it also faced problems. Most workers landed with legitimate companies, but thousands were scammed in their home countries by fake employment brokers. Others arrived only to be overworked and underpaid, even sexually exploited, under threats of having their visas canceled.
Reputable nursing home administrators, however, said canceling the program outright is a body blow to their efforts to fill more than 131,000 open positions in a system that is creaking under the weight of an aging population. Nursing home care is provided by private companies in the U.K. but largely financed by cash-strapped local governments.
British citizens show little interest in the jobs, which are considered low pay, low status and demanding, providers say.
'I haven't had a White British applicant in a year,' said Jenny Pattinson, CEO of the nonprofit that runs Hammerson House and another London care home.
Underlying all of this is a debate about immigration that continues to convulse Britain, like most Western nations. A decade after its Brexit vote to leave the European Union, the U.K. is still arguing with itself about how multicultural and globally integrated it wants to be, questions that continue to drive politics.
The Labour government, generally considered immigration-friendly, announced the end of the care worker visa program less than two weeks after being crushed in English regional elections by Reform UK, a right-wing, populist party started by anti-immigration activist and Brexit-champion Nigel Farage. Reform UK defeated hundreds of Labour and Conservative incumbents and took control of 10 local councils.
Critics say Prime Minister Keir Starmer is trying to dent Reform UK's appeal by making his own rightward pivot on immigration. Cutting the care-worker visa was part of a broader package of immigration changes, including doubling the number of years required for visa holders to become permanent residents and raising the English-language requirement for skilled workers.
In announcing the measures, Starmer sparked a backlash within his own party by warning that Britain risked becoming 'an island of strangers,' a phrase in which some found echoes of xenophobic rhetoric. In 1968, Enoch Powell was kicked out of the Tory shadow cabinet after saying in his famous 'rivers of blood' speech that White Britons 'found themselves made strangers in their own country.'
Starmer rejected the comparison in an interview with the Guardian newspaper, saying that 'migrants make a massive contribution to the UK, and I would never denigrate that.'
Immigration has bedeviled both Labour and Conservative prime ministers for years. Both legal immigrants and asylum seekers arriving on small boats surged to a peak of 906,000 by June 2023.
The numbers are falling as restrictions imposed by the then Tory government and the new Labour government kick in, with net migration into the country down to 431,000 in measures released in May. But the issue remains divisive as a record 11,074 people arrived in small boats in the first four months of this year.
Care home operators accused Starmer of going after their workers because they are easier migrants to block than those crossing the English Channel without permission.
'In my humble opinion, this is a knee-jerk reaction to the surge in votes for Reform,' Pattinson said. 'The government is saying 'Right, we've got to do something about immigration. Where is the largest body of workers coming from abroad? It's the care sector.'
There aren't many aspects of British life in which immigration plays a larger, or more emotional, role than in health and social care. Migrants from the British commonwealth, and particularly the postwar 'Windrush' generation of workers recruited from the Caribbean, fill the ranks of beloved National Health Service. Nurses of colors danced and flew through the air as part of a tribute to the NHS in the Opening Ceremonies of the 2012 London Olympics.
Lawy, a former secondary schoolteacher from Hampshire, a county that is 90 percent White, who has formed bonds with her Nigerian, South Asian and Filipino caregivers, said she had little experience with multiculturalism before moving to Hammerson House following a stroke. 'It's really opened my mind,' she said.
'My sister used to say she enjoyed living in a diverse community and I really didn't know what she meant,' Lawry said. 'Now I do.'
Hammerson House is a Jewish care home. But Ayesha Khan, a Muslim physical therapist from Pakistan who arrived through the visa program last year, said she has felt welcome and useful. Managers told her to step away for prayers whenever she needed to and the only comment she has gotten about her hijab was from a questioner making sure she was not wearing it against her will.
'It's not just a home for residents here, it's a home for me,' Khan said.
These ties make the new restrictions even more explosive, experts said, even as they acknowledged that there was a need for some reform of the abuse-prone visa program.
'It's a sacred cow, immigration is the backbone of the U.K. care system,' said Rob McNeil of Oxford University's Migration Observatory. 'There is a snap response, 'Oh my god, how terrible.' But if they don't resolve things at a structural level there will be consistent problems.'
The program started in 2020 under Prime Minister Boris Johnson to address a drain of European workers that followed the Brexit vote. A lack of oversight, critics charge, allowed shady enterprises and outright fraudsters to operate alongside legitimate care providers. In a crackdown last year, government investigators revoked the licenses of 470 sponsoring organizations, leaving 39,000 guest workers stranded without jobs.
'A third of our calls now come from care workers,' said Olivia Vicol, head of Work Rights Centre, a legal advocacy group.
Nursing home operators say the government has itself to blame for letting the bad actors flourish and that the staffing crisis will only get worse as a result of cutting the whole program without beefing up training, incentives and pay for British citizen to take the jobs. That could create even more political backlash for the government.
'This program was poorly designed at the outset and it's kind of obvious lever to pull when net migration numbers go up,' said Robert Ford, political science professor at the University of Manchester. 'But there will be an uproar if there is major crisis in care homes.'
The government said it was immediately suspending new overseas recruitment through the program, but that current visa holders could apply for renewals until 2028. The number of family members workers can bring was cut, and they will now be required to stay 10 years for a sponsoring facility, instead of five, before being free to explore other work.
For Akindotun, the health assistant, the changes put his whole future in doubt. With a master's degree in clinical psychology, he and his wife and toddler daughter arrived in the U.K. two years ago with hope that he could eventually work as a therapist. His training has been invaluable in dealing with Hammerson's elderly, infirm residents, he said.
'I have much to give here,' he said before sitting down with a 91-year-old who asks him to draw pictures for her. 'It's very demoralizing to feel that the government don't want us.'
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Yomiuri Shimbun
a day ago
- Yomiuri Shimbun
U.K. to Cut Foreign Workers, the ‘Backbone' of British Nursing Homes
Tori Ferenc for The Washington Post Jeremiah Akindotun helps Edna Barnett with her crossword puzzle at Hammerson House, a 116-room nursing home in north London where 58 percent of the clinical staff come from 49 different countries. LONDON – The 23-year-old Nigerian man handed the 78-year-old British woman her noon pill and, on a sunny June day, sat down for a little chat amid the family photos lining her wall. 'Will you miss me if I leave?' Jeremiah Akindotun asked with a smile. 'Oh, I think it's too sad, Jerry,' said Suad Lawy, sitting back in her chair. 'You get so attached. What's going to happen to our carers?' Akindotun is a health assistant at Hammerson House, a 116-room nursing home in north London where 58 percent of the clinical staff come from 49 different countries. Across the United Kingdom, foreign workers commonly provide intimate care to elderly Brits, with nearly a third of care staff coming from overseas. But maybe not for long. The British government, struggling to address immigration tensions, announced last month that it was ending the special overseas recruitment program that has been a pipeline for care workers in recent years. Officials said the move was necessary to make the care system less dependent on foreign labor and to root out fraud and exploitation in the fast-track care worker visa program, which was initiated five years ago to ease a staffing crisis in the care industry, one of Britain's biggest employment sectors. The plan funneled more than 220,000 workers into facilities around the country, according to a government-sponsored database, but it also faced problems. Most workers landed with legitimate companies, but thousands were scammed in their home countries by fake employment brokers. Others arrived only to be overworked and underpaid, even sexually exploited, under threats of having their visas canceled. Reputable nursing home administrators, however, said canceling the program outright is a body blow to their efforts to fill more than 131,000 open positions in a system that is creaking under the weight of an aging population. Nursing home care is provided by private companies in the U.K. but largely financed by cash-strapped local governments. British citizens show little interest in the jobs, which are considered low pay, low status and demanding, providers say. 'I haven't had a White British applicant in a year,' said Jenny Pattinson, CEO of the nonprofit that runs Hammerson House and another London care home. Underlying all of this is a debate about immigration that continues to convulse Britain, like most Western nations. A decade after its Brexit vote to leave the European Union, the U.K. is still arguing with itself about how multicultural and globally integrated it wants to be, questions that continue to drive politics. The Labour government, generally considered immigration-friendly, announced the end of the care worker visa program less than two weeks after being crushed in English regional elections by Reform UK, a right-wing, populist party started by anti-immigration activist and Brexit-champion Nigel Farage. Reform UK defeated hundreds of Labour and Conservative incumbents and took control of 10 local councils. Critics say Prime Minister Keir Starmer is trying to dent Reform UK's appeal by making his own rightward pivot on immigration. Cutting the care-worker visa was part of a broader package of immigration changes, including doubling the number of years required for visa holders to become permanent residents and raising the English-language requirement for skilled workers. In announcing the measures, Starmer sparked a backlash within his own party by warning that Britain risked becoming 'an island of strangers,' a phrase in which some found echoes of xenophobic rhetoric. In 1968, Enoch Powell was kicked out of the Tory shadow cabinet after saying in his famous 'rivers of blood' speech that White Britons 'found themselves made strangers in their own country.' Starmer rejected the comparison in an interview with the Guardian newspaper, saying that 'migrants make a massive contribution to the UK, and I would never denigrate that.' Immigration has bedeviled both Labour and Conservative prime ministers for years. Both legal immigrants and asylum seekers arriving on small boats surged to a peak of 906,000 by June 2023. The numbers are falling as restrictions imposed by the then Tory government and the new Labour government kick in, with net migration into the country down to 431,000 in measures released in May. But the issue remains divisive as a record 11,074 people arrived in small boats in the first four months of this year. Care home operators accused Starmer of going after their workers because they are easier migrants to block than those crossing the English Channel without permission. 'In my humble opinion, this is a knee-jerk reaction to the surge in votes for Reform,' Pattinson said. 'The government is saying 'Right, we've got to do something about immigration. Where is the largest body of workers coming from abroad? It's the care sector.' There aren't many aspects of British life in which immigration plays a larger, or more emotional, role than in health and social care. Migrants from the British commonwealth, and particularly the postwar 'Windrush' generation of workers recruited from the Caribbean, fill the ranks of beloved National Health Service. Nurses of colors danced and flew through the air as part of a tribute to the NHS in the Opening Ceremonies of the 2012 London Olympics. Lawy, a former secondary schoolteacher from Hampshire, a county that is 90 percent White, who has formed bonds with her Nigerian, South Asian and Filipino caregivers, said she had little experience with multiculturalism before moving to Hammerson House following a stroke. 'It's really opened my mind,' she said. 'My sister used to say she enjoyed living in a diverse community and I really didn't know what she meant,' Lawry said. 'Now I do.' Hammerson House is a Jewish care home. But Ayesha Khan, a Muslim physical therapist from Pakistan who arrived through the visa program last year, said she has felt welcome and useful. Managers told her to step away for prayers whenever she needed to and the only comment she has gotten about her hijab was from a questioner making sure she was not wearing it against her will. 'It's not just a home for residents here, it's a home for me,' Khan said. These ties make the new restrictions even more explosive, experts said, even as they acknowledged that there was a need for some reform of the abuse-prone visa program. 'It's a sacred cow, immigration is the backbone of the U.K. care system,' said Rob McNeil of Oxford University's Migration Observatory. 'There is a snap response, 'Oh my god, how terrible.' But if they don't resolve things at a structural level there will be consistent problems.' The program started in 2020 under Prime Minister Boris Johnson to address a drain of European workers that followed the Brexit vote. A lack of oversight, critics charge, allowed shady enterprises and outright fraudsters to operate alongside legitimate care providers. In a crackdown last year, government investigators revoked the licenses of 470 sponsoring organizations, leaving 39,000 guest workers stranded without jobs. 'A third of our calls now come from care workers,' said Olivia Vicol, head of Work Rights Centre, a legal advocacy group. Nursing home operators say the government has itself to blame for letting the bad actors flourish and that the staffing crisis will only get worse as a result of cutting the whole program without beefing up training, incentives and pay for British citizen to take the jobs. That could create even more political backlash for the government. 'This program was poorly designed at the outset and it's kind of obvious lever to pull when net migration numbers go up,' said Robert Ford, political science professor at the University of Manchester. 'But there will be an uproar if there is major crisis in care homes.' The government said it was immediately suspending new overseas recruitment through the program, but that current visa holders could apply for renewals until 2028. The number of family members workers can bring was cut, and they will now be required to stay 10 years for a sponsoring facility, instead of five, before being free to explore other work. For Akindotun, the health assistant, the changes put his whole future in doubt. With a master's degree in clinical psychology, he and his wife and toddler daughter arrived in the U.K. two years ago with hope that he could eventually work as a therapist. His training has been invaluable in dealing with Hammerson's elderly, infirm residents, he said. 'I have much to give here,' he said before sitting down with a 91-year-old who asks him to draw pictures for her. 'It's very demoralizing to feel that the government don't want us.'


Yomiuri Shimbun
4 days ago
- Yomiuri Shimbun
We Finally May Be Able to Rid the World of Mosquitoes. But Should We?
ahi Chikwendiu/The Washington Post Women and children wait in line for malaria medication at a health center in Nametil, Mozambique, in 2023. They buzz, they bite, and they cause some of the deadliest diseases known to humanity. Mosquitoes are perhaps the planet's most universally reviled animals. If we could zap them off the face of the Earth, should we? The question is no longer hypothetical. In recent years, scientists have devised powerful genetic tools that may be able to eradicate mosquitoes and other pests once and for all. Now, some doctors and scientists say it is time to take the extraordinary step of unleashing gene editing to suppress mosquitoes and avoid human suffering from malaria, dengue, West Nile virus and other serious diseases. 'There are so many lives at stake with malaria that we want to make sure that this technology could be used in the near future,' said Alekos Simoni, a molecular biologist with Target Malaria, a project aiming to target vector mosquitoes in sub-Saharan Africa. Yet the development of this technology also raises a profound ethical question: When, if ever, is it okay to intentionally drive a species out of existence? Even the famed naturalist E.O. Wilson once said: 'I would gladly throw the switch and be the executioner myself' for malaria-carrying mosquitoes. But some researchers and ethicists warn it may be too dangerous to tinker with the underpinnings of life itself. Even irritating, itty-bitty mosquitoes, they say, may have enough inherent value to keep around. How to exterminate mosquitoes Target Malaria is one of the most ambitious mosquito suppression efforts in the works. Simoni and his colleagues are seeking to diminish populations of mosquitoes in the Anopheles gambiae complex that are responsible for spreading the deadly disease. In their labs, the scientists have introduced a gene mutation that causes female mosquito offspring to hatch without functional ovaries, rendering them infertile. Male mosquito offspring can carry the gene but remain physically unaffected. The concept is that when female mosquitoes inherit the gene from both their mother and father, they will go on to die without producing offspring. Meanwhile, when males and females carrying just one copy of the gene mate with wild mosquitoes, they will spread the gene further until no fertile females are left – and the population crashes. Simoni said he hopes Target Malaria can move beyond the lab and deploy some of the genetically modified mosquitoes in their natural habitats within the next five years. The nonprofit research consortium gets its core funding from the Gates Foundation, backed by Microsoft co-founder Bill Gates, and Open Philanthropy, backed by Facebook co-founder Dustin Moskovitz and his wife, Cari Tuna. 'We believe that this technology can really be transformative,' Simoni said. At the heart of Target Malaria's work is a powerful genetic tool called a gene drive. Under the normal rules of inheritance, a parent has a 50-50 chance of passing a particular gene on to an offspring. But by adding special genetic machinery – dubbed a gene drive – to segments of DNA, scientists can rig the coin flip and ensure a gene is included in an animal's eggs and sperm, nearly guaranteeing it will be passed along. Over successive generations, gene drives can cause a trait to spread across an entire species's population, even if that gene doesn't benefit the organism. In that way, gene drives do something remarkable: They allow humans to override Charles Darwin's rules for natural selection, which normally prods populations of plants and animals to adapt to their environment over time. 'Technology is presenting new options to us,' said Christopher Preston, a University of Montana environmental philosopher. 'We might've been able to make a species go extinct 150 years ago by harpooning it too much or shooting it out of the sky. But today, we have different options, and extinction could be completed or could be started in a lab.' How far should we go in eradicating mosquitoes? When so many wildlife conservationists are trying to save plants and animals from disappearing, the mosquito is one of the few creatures that people argue is actually worthy of extinction. Forget about tigers or bears; it's the tiny mosquito that is the deadliest animal on Earth. The human misery caused by malaria is undeniable. Nearly 600,000 people died of the disease in 2023, according to the World Health Organization, with the majority of cases in Africa. On the continent, the death toll is akin to 'crashing two Boeing 747s into Kilimanjaro' every day, said Paul Ndebele, a bioethicist at George Washington University. For gene-drive advocates, making the case for releasing genetically modified mosquitoes in nations such as Burkina Faso or Uganda is straightforward. 'This is not a difficult audience, because these are people that are living in an area where children are dying,' said Krystal Birungi, an entomologist for Target Malaria in Uganda, though she added that she sometimes has to fight misinformation, such as the false idea that bites from genetically modified mosquitoes can make people sterile. But recently, the Hastings Center for Bioethics, a research institute in New York, and Arizona State University brought together a group of bioethicists to discuss the potential pitfalls of intentionally trying to drive a species to extinction. In a policy paper published in the journal Science last month, the group concluded that 'deliberate full extinction might occasionally be acceptable, but only extremely rarely.' A compelling candidate for total eradication, according to the bioethicists, is the New World screwworm. This parasitic fly, which lays eggs in wounds and eats the flesh of both humans and livestock, appears to play little role in ecosystems. Infections are difficult to treat and can lead to slow and painful deaths. Yet it may be too risky, they say, to use gene drives on invasive rodents on remote Pacific islands where they decimate native birds, given the nonzero chance of a gene-edited rat or mouse jumping ship to the mainland and spreading across a continent. 'Even at a microbial level, it became plain in our conversations, we are not in favor of remaking the world to suit human desires,' said Gregory Kaebnick, a senior research scholar at the institute. It's unclear how important malaria-carrying mosquitoes are to broader ecosystems. Little research has been done to figure out whether frogs or other animals that eat the insects would be able to find their meals elsewhere. Scientists are hotly debating whether a broader 'insect apocalypse' is underway in many parts of the world, which may imperil other creatures that depend on them for food and pollination. 'The eradication of the mosquito through a genetic technology would have the potential to create global eradication in a way that just felt a little risky,' said Preston, who contributed with Ndebele to the discussion published in Science. Instead, the authors said, geneticists should be able to use gene editing, vaccines and other tools to target not the mosquito itself, but the single-celled Plasmodium parasite that is responsible for malaria. That invisible microorganism – which a mosquito transfers from its saliva to a person's blood when it bites – is the real culprit. 'You can get rid of malaria without actually getting rid of the mosquito,' Kaebnick said. He added that, at a time when the Trump administration talks cavalierly about animals going extinct, intentional extinction should be an option for only 'particularly horrific species.' But Ndebele, who is from Zimbabwe, noted that most of the people opposed to the elimination of the mosquitoes 'are not based in Africa.' Ndebele has intimate experience with malaria; he once had to rush his sick son to a hospital after the disease manifested as a hallucinatory episode. 'We're just in panic mode,' he recalled. 'You can just imagine – we're not sure what's happening with this young guy.' Still, Ndebele and his colleagues expressed caution about using gene-drive technology. Even if people were to agree to rid the globe of every mosquito – not just Anopheles gambiae but also ones that transmit other diseases or merely bite and irritate – it would be a 'herculean undertaking,' according to Kaebnick. There are more than 3,500 known species, each potentially requiring its own specially designed gene drive. And there is no guarantee a gene drive would wipe out a population as intended. Simoni, the gene-drive researcher, agreed that there are limits to what the technology can do. His team's modeling suggests it would suppress malaria-carrying mosquitoes only locally without outright eliminating them. Mosquitoes have been 'around for hundreds of millions of years,' he said. 'It's a very difficult species to eliminate.'


Yomiuri Shimbun
4 days ago
- Yomiuri Shimbun
Some Advice from LGBTQ Elders as Worldpride Kicks off Amid Fears
Matt McClain/The Washington Post People dance during a WorldPride Welcome Party at Berhta in Northeast Washington on Saturday. They were born too late to have witnessed Stonewall, lived through darkest days of the HIV/AIDS epidemic or have memories of a time when it was illegal for same-sex couples to marry anywhere in the country. Still, four 20-somethings from a small private college in south-central Pennsylvania got out of bed before sunrise and spent a few hours on a bus to D.C. so they could make it to the U.S. Supreme Court for a gathering that would take them back in time. They would listen as longtime LGBTQ advocates, who had come together to celebrate the 100th anniversary of gay pioneer Frank E. Kameny's birth, spoke about struggle and the progress it has wrought. They would hold candles and look on as those advocates marched in loops in the high court's shadow holding large signs – black lettering on white poster board that recalled the very first gay rights demonstration in the nation's capital 60 years ago. The posters declared such things as 'Gay is good' and 'Homosexuals ask for the right to the pursuit of happiness.' Tatiana Gonzales, 22, watched in awe, an electric candle in each hand, a 'trans lives matter' shirt peeking out from beneath their black hoodie. Gonzales would later describe the experience as transformative, how the candles in their own hands felt more like a passed torch – a reminder that their generation must pick up the work started long before to ensure that progress is not undone. 'Wow,' Gonzales recalled thinking, 'these are really the people that helped make this happen. These are really the people who fought for us to have these rights.' As D.C. decks itself in rainbows and welcomes WorldPride, one of the largest international observances of Pride Month, many LGBTQ people say that they are finding inspiration not by imagining a brighter future – but instead by revisiting a more hostile past. After years of buoyant celebrations of advancements and greater acceptance for members of the LGBTQ community over the last two decades, for many, Pride is taking place this year in the shadow of mounting legal and cultural attacks: books featuring LGBTQ+ characters have been removed from school libraries and curriculums; hate crimes are on the rise; the federal government has barred transgender people from the military and girls' sports; HIV prevention programs and gender-affirming health care have been slashed; drag shows have been banned at the Kennedy Center; and state legislatures around the country have introduced more than 500 anti-LGBTQ+ bills. The young people assembled outside the Supreme Court that day kept coming back to one word: 'Scary.' They feel fearful of political and social attacks on LGBTQ people, they said, and they worry about the safety of their friends, family and even themselves. 'There's a very real shot that we won't have those rights that we've just kind of had for the majority of our lives,' said Elspeth Hunter, 20. 'It's so scary.' In the D.C. area, LGBTQ trailblazers who formed secret societies in the '60s, marched in the '70s, read aloud the names of AIDS patients of the '80s and '90s, and staged kiss-ins and mass weddings in the aughts have also been reflecting on the nature of progress: how it is won and how it is protected. How they hope the next generation is listening – and preparing – to carry it into the future. Finding 'familia' at Pride José Gutierrez, 63, knows what it feels like to watch the government turn its back on LGBTQ people. When he was in his 20s, Gutierrez said, he kept a personal phone book with the names and numbers of all the people he knew. In the worst throes of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, he said, he would open that book nearly every month to cross out the names of those who had died. The grief felt inescapable, unending. 'I wish that new generations knew what that was like,' he said. 'Those were difficult times because we didn't have any medications, we didn't have services, and people that were infected with HIV/AIDS, some of them, not everybody, but some, would prefer to commit suicide.' In 1993, Gutierrez was invited to attend the March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation as a representative from Atlanta and a member of the Latino community. When he arrived, he said, he could hardly believe what he was witnessing: A million people in the streets. ACT UP protesters carrying coffins through the city to protest the government's inaction in response to the epidemic. A giant memorial quilt unfurled across the National Mall that included panels from every state and 28 countries. Gutierrez was asked to read aloud the names of Latino people who had died of the disease. Recalling that moment still makes him weep. Gutierrez moved to Washington soon after, inspired to continue working to support those who were HIV-positive and immigrants and Latinos in the LGBTQ community. He's advocated for better bilingual health care and education about the HIV/AIDS epidemic and worked to create distinct spaces for LGBTQ Latinos in the District. In 2000, he founded the Latino GLBT History Project. Seven years later, he organized the first D.C. Latino Pride. On Saturday, Gutierrez will ride at the front of the Pride parade as an honoree and co-chair of this year's WorldPride march – an event he said is as much a protest as it is a celebration. 'We're protesting because we need visibility for many reasons. The first is: We have, against our community, the LGBTQ community and especially the transgender community, so much violence and hate,' Gutierrez said. 'We also need to celebrate our lives, our rights, even though we are now having a lot of issues, just to be with thousands and thousands of people around the world in a safe space.' 'Familia, like we call it in Spanish,' he added. At Pride, 'we're in familia.' The pendulum keeps swinging Eva Freund isn't coming to the parade. She doesn't like crowds or loud noises and, is still recovering from a fall last year in which she broke her femur. But at 87, Freund is one of the earliest members of the District's first gay rights group, the Mattachine Society of Washington, and still makes herself – and her beliefs – known everywhere she goes. In the retirement community where she lives with her wife, Elke Martin, Freund's front door stands out in the long, winding hall. Rainbow flags dot the wall, the door frame and the flower pot from which a long, winding pothos vine crawls. A sticker declares her home a 'hate free zone,' and a rainbow plate says, 'Love always wins.' An ornate marriage contract, framed and signed by Freund and Martin, hangs in the hallway surrounded by photos. Even the mezuzah at the entryway is painted as a rainbow. On a recent day, as Freund made her way upstairs, a young man stopped and thanked her for speaking out at a recent event. 'Hey, kudos to you for saying what everyone was thinking,' the man said. Freund smiled. She had asked a visiting politician what meaningful actions they planned to take to protect marginalized people – she was tired of the talk and the 'do-nothing Democrats,' she said. 'I just appreciate you standing up and saying what you said yesterday; I know that's nothing new to you,' he added. 'But especially in that setting where everybody's there and everybody's kind of like, 'Did she really just say that?' And, like, 'Yeah. She did.' ' When Freund began identifying as a lesbian in the 1960s, being gay was all but illegal in public spaces. Workers suspected of being gay were fired from their jobs in the federal government. LGBTQ people were routinely rounded up and arrested at bars or in parks amid police raids. Even the American Psychiatric Association at the time classified homosexuality as a mental illness. In her youth, Freund demonstrated for women's rights and gay liberation. She carried signs with other trailblazers like Paul Kuntzler and Lilli Vincenz, calling for federal reforms and the removal of homosexuality from the APA's list of mental illness diagnoses. She was defiant in the face of police, who, when Freund was at a D.C. lesbian bar with her friends in the early '60s, raided the joint, asking each patron to hand over their IDs. 'I never saw myself as an activist. I saw myself as a curmudgeon,' Freund said. 'I wouldn't be necessarily someone who wanted to lead marches or organize marches, because I know that change comes incrementally. Unless you have a really bloody revolution, change does not come in a big fell swoop. And people's minds get changed incrementally.' But, she admits, she has seen a whole lot of change: Friends, who for years hid who they were, able to come out. Her marriage to Martin, her partner of more than 30 years. Legal protection against discrimination – in Virginia, where she lives, it's illegal to deny housing or employment to anyone based on sexual orientation or gender identity. She doesn't take it for granted. Freund has recently found herself thinking about the period after the Civil War – a period of reconstruction and freedom, for some, but also a devastating backlash that brought with it systemic segregation and discrimination against Black Americans. 'When the pendulum swings,' she said, 'the folks who are in power lose power, and they can't stand it. So when they get back in power they have to chip, chip, chip, chip away' at whatever progress was made. 'The question,' she went on, 'is how much damage can they accomplish in all that chipping?' Freund does what she can in her own little slice of the world to keep that chipping at bay. That means trying to help young people understand the history that came before them – how to persevere in the face of hatred and discrimination – and being out, proud and visible. Each night when Freund goes down to the community dining room to eat with her wife, she said, the two of them walk in together, past tables of people, holding hands. The last survivor of the 1965 march Kuntzler, the sole surviving participant of the District's first gay rights march in 1965, has remained active in the ways he knows how. The 82-year-old, who still rides his bike to get around the city, is a regular at anti-Donald Trump demonstrations, having attended the 2017 Women's March on Washington, where he held up a sign that read 'Donald Trump Is the Ugly American' (a nod to the 1958 novel 'The Ugly American'). He later walked in the March for Science and the People's Climate March. In April, Kuntzler marked Trump's second term by attending the 'Hands Off!' rally on the National Mall with a homemade sign: 'Trumpism is fascism.' Later that month, he joined supporters at a reenactment of the 1965 protest for gay rights in front of the White House. As he walked in circles outside the tall White House fence, Kuntzler held up a placard much like the one he made more than half a century ago. It read: 'Fifteen Million U.S. Homosexuals Protest Federal Treatment.' The figure he cited – 15 million – was an estimate based on the statistic that about 10 percent of the population at the time was probably gay. Decades later, Kuntzler marvels at the passage of time and the progress it has brought. Gay and lesbian politicians hold office in Congress and state legislatures around the country; the former U.S. secretary of transportation, Pete Buttigieg, is openly gay, married and a dad. Kuntzler and his partner of more than 40 years, Stephen Brent Miller, became legal domestic partners in a civil ceremony in 2002 – two years before Massachusetts became the first U.S. state to legalize same-sex marriage. 'Well, I think probably the national gay community, LGBT, probably have made more progress than any other group in America. I mean, the change has been astonishing,' Kuntzler said. 'We couldn't conceive of the idea back in the '60s that there would be laws to protect us from discrimination, that there would be openly gay elected officials. … The whole idea of marriage equality was something we couldn't conceive of.' Kuntzler ran Kameny's campaign for Congress in 1971 – a historic first in several ways: Kameny was the first openly gay man to seek congressional office and he did so in the District of Columbia's first election for its nonvoting delegate seat. Kuntzler had planned to attend Kameny's centennial demonstration, but rainy weather kept him home. Kuntzler was heartened, however, to hear that so many young people had attended. He hopes they'll also come to a public exhibit he's featured in and leads tours of: the Rainbow History Project's display in Freedom Plaza on 'Pickets, Protests, and Parades: The History of Gay Pride in Washington.' Vincent Slatt, the curator, said he built the exhibit to be more than a look back at history. Slatt said he hopes it serves as inspiration – and instruction. 'At that first picket in 1965, it was 10 people outside the White House. By the 1993 March on Washington, it was a million people. What we have grown here, in Washington, D.C., is a movement,' Slatt said. 'This exhibit is not about old people and what old people do or did. … These were all young people who got off their asses and fought, and sometimes they won and sometimes they lost. But over 60 years, we've won a lot more than we've lost.'