President Donald Trump’s second term has especially targeted two groups in particular: immigrants and LGBTQ people. On his first day in office, he ended the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program, which left thousands of refugees who had already been approved to live in the United States stranded. He also drastically lowered the cap on the number of refugees allowed to enter the U.S. from 125,000 to 7,500. Thankfully, Immigration Equality is here to help.
“For many decades, we’ve seen clients arrive with nothing but hope and fear, and walk out with safety and freedom,” Anto Chavez, Immigration Equality’s communications director, told LGBTQ Nation. “It’s just becoming harder to fight, but we’re still here with them. We still hold their hand every step of the way. We have more than 700 active legal cases, our legal staff trains thousands of lawyers nationwide to represent queer immigrants pro bono, and we fight in the courts and Congress to expand protections.”
Founded in 1994, Immigration Equality provides free legal help for immigrants and asylum seekers who are LGBTQ+ or HIV-positive. The group is fighting Trump’s seemingly arbitrary executive orders on immigration in courts — and winning.
Chavez spoke with LGBTQ Nation about how the sociocultural landscape around immigration has changed now that Trump is back in office and what average citizens can do to fight for the rights of queer immigrants in our community.
For forever, immigrant communities have learned how to take care of each other without relying on systems that have failed us. We have to continue to do that. We have to continue to fight. Anto Chavez, Immigration Equality communications director
LGBTQ Nation: What has changed under Trump’s second term for immigrants applying for asylum to escape anti-LGBTQ persecution in their home countries?
Anto Chavez: The anti-immigrant rhetoric has shaped the culture and the cultural shift in our country; this happened during Trump’s term as well. But it really changes how queer immigrants even envision themselves in the U.S.
At the beginning of this administration, some of our clients were refugees. We have an asylum program and a refugee program. Historically, we have worked with ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement), but we opened up our refugee program a few years ago. After we launched it, some folks were really scared to even just decide to come to the U.S. I think there was a lot of misinformation, [but] this is still a place that’s safer for many folks.
But when it comes to policy — I mean, if we talk about refugee work, every avenue has been blocked for us. The refugee resettlement program went from thousands a year to zero, and so we’ve had to really look into other options.
How has Donald Trump’s executive order drastically lowering the refugee cap affected refugees who were already approved?
Since January 20, after the executive order suspending the refugee resettlement program and halting the process for many folks, we had people who were ready to travel and had to cancel. So for queer and trans asylum seekers, this means just fewer pathways for relocation or protection from persecution.
The U.S. has historically been a place where queer immigrants have been able to come and live freely. It’s scary to think it’s starting to change.
There are increased barriers for asylum seekers who are already here as well. Policies like what was called “Remain in Mexico,” were reinstated. The CBP (Customs and Border Patrol) One app, which allowed those migrating for humanitarian reasons to schedule asylum interviews at ports of entry, was ended, and existing appointments were canceled.
There has been increased deportation, including of multiple LGBTQ asylum seekers. There’s also the abuse that happens in detention, particularly to queer and trans immigrants. It’s just out of this world. We have some reports that queer immigrants are more likely to be assaulted and abused in ICE detention and put into solitary confinement.
Throughout Ali’s childhood in Iraq, he was repeatedly bullied by students and teachers for what he described as his feminine behavior. During his pre-teen and teenage years, men sexually assaulted him, but he couldn’t report it to the police for fear that he’d be thrown into jail for years since Iraq has criminalized homosexuality.
Ali was afraid to come out or talk about these assaults to his family. Although he wasn’t sure if his father knew he was gay, his dad knew other LGBTQ+ people from his travels abroad for work. His father used to tell him, “One day, we’re gonna go to travel to Europe or America and have a good life,” adding, “You’re gonna be safe and you’re gonna be happy.” But then his father died of a heart attack in 2014, and Ali’s abusive older brother (10 years his senior) assumed control of the family, making Ali terrified for his future.
In November 2023, Ali went out with another man for ice cream. While they were out in the rain, five Iraqi police officers suddenly surrounded and arrested them, believing they were romantically involved. Though Ali lied and told the officers they were just cousins, the officers accused them of being prostitutes and slapped, kicked, and hit them in the streets, eventually taking them to the police station.
At the police station, they took Ali’s phone and found images of male models and some men kissing. Police said that the images confirmed Ali’s intent to conduct sex work. They forced him to sign a confession that he had had sex with another man; one officer tried to coerce Ali into performing oral sex; and the police eventually threw him in jail, leaving his family with no clue as to his whereabouts.
In the remote jail, far from the city where Ali lived, he shared a cold, small, crowded cell with about 15 other people, ranging in age from 15 to 60. The police took Ali’s clothes and gave him dirty ones to wear, along with a small blanket.
“Everyone’s sleeping next to each other [on the floor] so close, and it was just so scary,” he told LGBTQ Nation. “Like, I was thinking an animal can’t even live there.” One guard suggested that he tell other inmates that he was arrested for using counterfeit money, because if he admitted he was gay, they might mistreat him.
“I was ultimately released, but I was terrified for my safety because the police had my home address and personal information and had accused me of being gay. I believed I could be imprisoned at any time,” Ali said in a court document explaining his situation. “After my arrest, I knew I had to leave the country to survive. I did not feel that I could trust anyone.”
Ali’s experiences mirror that of other LGBTQ+ Middle Easterners who are entrapped, harassed, detained, and tortured under suspicion of being queer. Ali considered taking his own life to escape the persecution, but he couldn’t go through with it.
A second chance, but with the U.S. government working against him
Ali eventually applied for aid under the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program (USRAP), a 1980 federal program that has helped millions of refugees fleeing persecution in their home countries to relocate safely in the United States and build lives, families, and businesses.
Refugee processing and resettlement are lengthy processes requiring participation from numerous governmental and nongovernmental entities. Ali, like thousands of refugees, first underwent extensive security checks and referrals before being approved under USRAP and resettling into a single apartment in the United States.
“When I learned I would be resettled in Dallas, I was so excited that I began screaming with happiness and jumping and dancing,” Ali said.
It’s hard to know exactly how many LGBTQ+ people seek asylum in the U.S., but a 2021 study by the Williams Institute estimated that 11,400 LGBTQ+ individuals did so between 2012 and 2017. Approximately 4,385 of them made asylum claims specifically related to their LGBTQ+ status.
I am very concerned that if people back in Iraq learned about my sexual orientation and my interactions with the police, my family would be in danger.Ali, a gay Iraqi refugee currently living in Dallas, Texas
He came to the U.S. with only $120 to his name. Upon arrival, Catholic Charities provided him with a case manager and financial assistance for his first three months, as well as help in finding other programs to assist him in getting a job and obtaining basic necessities. Ali soon applied for a matching grant program that would cover one year of rent and utilities and provide him a monthly allowance, as well as a Refugee Cash Assistance program to provide a monthly stipend for six months and potentially longer.
However, by early February, he was notified that both programs had shut down due to an executive order signed by Donald Trump on January 20, entitled “Realigning the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program.” The order claimed that federally funded programs for admitting refugees aren’t in the country’s best interests because they “compromise the availability” of “taxpayer resources” for American citizens.
Trump’s order effectively halted refugee admissions indefinitely, ending USRAP and freezing millions in congressionally appropriated USRAP funding. Trump’s order threw Ali’s life into disarray, stranded thousands of other refugees and separated families who had already been approved under USRAP, and ended the funding of various groups and charities that used federal funding to provide vital survival benefits to refugees.
Ali learned that the case manager helping him secure benefits had been laid off after Trump’s order, and his apartment managers told him he might be evicted if he couldn’t pay the rent. Running out of food, he subsisted on peanut butter.
In response to the chaos, the International Refugee Assistance Project (IRAP) filed Pacito v. Trump on February 10 in the Western District of Washington. The case is a class action lawsuit filed on behalf of the individuals and major resettlement agencies harmed by Trump’s order. It asserts that, by indefinitely ending USRAP, Trump and federal agencies exceeded their lawful authority and violated both federal law – and rulemaking procedures required under the Administrative Procedure Act – as well as the Constitution. The lawsuit seeks to block the order, restore funding, and enforce long-established protections for refugees.
In March, a district court agreed with IRAP’s lawsuit and granted a preliminary injunction against Trump’s order, writing, “The results have been harrowing.” The court noted that refugees have few (if any) rights – they have no right to work; limited access to healthcare, housing, or education; and often face discrimination.
Luckily, a charity helped Ali find a job at a local coffee shop, and he also secured a second job at a local mall. He had learned English, he said, by watching old episodes of Keeping Up with the Kardashians, a reality TV show about an ethnically Armenian celebrity family living in the United States. Now, he has made several good friends and has started building a community by attending a local church.
But other individual refugees who had been approved to come to the U.S. under USRAP after years of processing have either been stranded in the U.S. without homes or work or else trapped in their home or host countries as their scheduled flights to the U.S. were abruptly canceled, the district court wrote in its May decision. This has left the refugees vulnerable to physical danger and financial hardship without stable housing, income, basic necessities, alternative paths to refuge, or access to integration services that would help them become self-sufficient.
Furthermore, Trump’s order effectively defunded congressionally mandated resettlement-support services, making them unable to pay their employees and keep their offices open and undermining decades of work building up infrastructures, relationships, and the associated goodwill to facilitate refugee integration in local communities. The order required these services to furlough or lay off hundreds of staff all over the United States, threatening their continued existence.
The courts are trying to restrain Trump, but he has other plans
In April, the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals granted the federal government a partial emergency stay of the district court’s injunction. While the appeals court has required the government to reinstate resettlement and placement services to refugees for 90 days after their admission into the United States, the court also appointed a magistrate judge to help review individual cases of refugees harmed by Trump’s order, while IRAP’s class action suit continues to be heard by the courts.
“Iraq is a very unsafe place for LGBTQ+ people,” Ali said in his court filing. “When I speak to people back in Iraq, I hide the fact that I’m gay and that the police arrested and abused me for being gay… I am very concerned that if people back in Iraq learned about my sexual orientation and my interactions with the police, my family would be in danger.”
I want to help everyone in my situation because it is difficult for me now, and I know there are other refugees who recently arrived and are struggling even more than me.Ali, a gay Iraqi refugee currently living in Dallas, Texas
Ali also worries that, if he criticizes the Trump Administration for ending USRAP, conservative organizations could somehow locate his name and personal information for harassment or violent retaliation. If his name is made public, it could make it even more difficult for him to find employment or could lead to other kinds of anti-immigrant and anti-gay discrimination.
Ali understands that, in this case, he’s not only representing himself, but thousands of other refugees nationwide and across the world. “I want to help everyone in my situation because it is difficult for me now, and I know there are other refugees who recently arrived and are struggling even more than me.”
The Trump Administration is considering a radical overhaul of USRAP that would continue to largely defund the program and reduce the number of refugees allowed annually into the U.S. from 125,000 (the number established by former President Joe Biden) to 7,500. Trump’s plan would give preferred relocation assistance to English speakers, white South Africans, and Europeans who have left their countries after making anti-immigrant statements or supporting anti-immigrant political parties, The New York Times reported on October 15.
“[Trump’s plan reflects] a preexisting notion… as to who are the true Americans,” said Barbara L. Strack, a former chief of the refugee affairs division at Citizenship and Immigration Services during the Bush, Obama and Trump administrations. “And they think it’s white people and they think it’s Christians.”
In a statement, IRAP wrote, “These actions reflect a broader pattern of President Trump attempting to strong-arm other branches of government into rubber-stamping his political agenda, sidestepping the checks and balances Congress established to ensure refugee policy serves humanitarian – not partisan- ends. Such departures from established process and principle undermine the United States’ legal obligations and moral leadership, sending a dangerous message that access to refuge may depend on identity rather than need.”
In this episode, we sit down with Help Me Leave (www.helpmeleave.us ) — an organization dedicated to creating pathways to safety for LGBTQ people in the United States.
Help Me Leave works to:
🌍 Support amnesty and refuge visas for LGBTQ Americans facing discrimination and hostility
✈️ Provide emergency relocation assistance to those in urgent need
🤝 Build a global network of allies, advocates, and skilled volunteers who can help
The conversation explores: Why LGBTQ people in the U.S. are increasingly seeking refuge abroad
How the group is building momentum toward meaningful immigration solutions
Ways YOU can get involved, contribute, or share your skills to support this mission
“Help Me Leave! is continuing to build momentum. Follow for further updates and get in touch if you have skills that can help.”
In a world and at a point where LGBTQ rights are under increasing threat, organizations like Rainbow Railroad are delivering life-saving action and offering hope as they do. Founded in 2006 as a grassroots response to the grave needs of LGBTQ individuals facing persecution, Rainbow Railroad has evolved into a global leader in queer humanitarian response. Their mission is clear and critical — to help LGBTQ people escape life-threatening situations and access the safety and freedom they deserve.
The Washington Blade was honored to speak with Latoya Nugent, head of engagement at Rainbow Railroad, a determined advocate and strategist who brings lived experience, passion, and vision to this work. In our conversation, Latoya sheds much-needed light on the evolution of the LGBTQ refugee crisis, the organization’s global impact, and how everyday people can get proactive in supporting LGBTQ asylum seekers and those displaced.
Can you share with us a little bit about Rainbow Railroad and how it was formed?
Rainbow Railroad is a global non-profit organization with offices in New York and Toronto. We were founded in 2006 as a volunteer-led initiative focused on helping LGBTQI+ people at risk find safety. Our primary work supports individuals living in what we call “countries of criminalization” – places where it’s illegal to be LGBTQI+.
We officially registered as a charity in Canada in 2013 and received 501(c)(3) status in the U.S. in 2015. Since then, we’ve grown to a team of about 60 staff working across direct service and advocacy. Our mission is to ensure LGBTQI+ people in danger can access safety and support, while also driving global advocacy to improve conditions on the ground.
Largely because there simply weren’t many organizations doing this work. While humanitarian protection has existed for decades, very few have focused specifically on how forced displacement affects LGBTQI+ people. The persecution faced by our community is often deeply personal and not adequately understood or addressed in global protection systems.
Rainbow Railroad was founded by a group of lawyers in Toronto who witnessed extreme anti-LGBTQI+ violence in Jamaica and the broader Caribbean. They knew a solution was needed to create safe passage for those fleeing persecution. What started as a small initiative has now become a global force, responding to crises like the fall of Kabul, the Chechnya purge in 2017, and the Anti-Homosexuality Act in Uganda.
Because we’ve worked so closely with governments, especially the Canadian government, and have deepened our involvement in global coalitions, our ability to respond at scale has expanded. In 2023, we secured a historic partnership with the Canadian government to provide comprehensive, end-to-end relocation support for LGBTQI+ people. That had never existed before within the humanitarian protection framework.
How has anti-LGBTQ and anti-transgender persecution evolved or intensified in recent years?
We’re seeing a rising, coordinated global movement against LGBTQI+ rights, heavily influenced by some religious and political groups. Alarmingly, some countries that had previously decriminalized LGBTQI+ identities are now reversing progress. Take Trinidad and Tobago, for example.
In 2023, Russia labeled the LGBTQI+ movement as “extremist.” In the U.S., under the current administration, we’ve seen federal resources for LGBTQI+ individuals and organizations stripped away. Websites have removed key information, and funding has been cut.
Globally, trans people are often the first targets, whether through state violence or community aggression. While we saw real progress for a while, a lot of that is now under threat. The movement today is focused on holding the line and preventing further erosion of rights.
What are some of the biggest misconceptions the public holds about LGBTQ refugees and asylum seekers?
A major one is the misunderstanding of how deeply personal the persecution is. Even people working in humanitarian spaces sometimes don’t grasp how intimate and life-threatening the experience is for LGBTQI+ people.
Unlike those fleeing war or natural disasters, circumstances that the world is more conditioned to understand, LGBTQI+ asylum seekers are often met with disbelief. People question their identity, their trauma, and even their right to seek protection.
And because the system isn’t designed with us in mind, many are retraumatized throughout the process. There’s also a lack of data. No one is formally tracking how many displaced people identify as LGBTQI+. So we’re forced to estimate based on global population models, but we believe there are upwards of 11 million LGBTQI+ individuals affected by displacement.
Also, the growing anti-immigrant sentiment worldwide paints refugees as threats, and LGBTQI+ asylum seekers get caught in that same narrative. Many wrongly believe that people choose to be refugees, but no one chooses this. It’s called forced displacement for a reason.
Here in the US, how does misinformation shape asylum policy?
Misinformation leads to policies that don’t reflect reality. If you start by distrusting asylum seekers, you miss their humanity. You see them as burdens or threats, not as people fleeing unimaginable violence.
As federal support gets cut, civil society organizations like Rainbow Railroad have to fill the gaps. But we’re not replacing a government system — we’re trying to patch a sinking ship.
And here’s the truth: LGBTQI+ asylum seekers will continue to arrive in the U.S. because it’s still safer than many of the countries they’re fleeing. Even with rising hostility here, they’re not being chased with machetes, like in parts of Nigeria, Jamaica, or Egypt. That’s the level of danger we’re talking about. And that needs to be understood.
In what ways does the US resettlement system fall short for LGBTQ refugees?
Before the federal program we partnered with was suspended in January 2025, we saw firsthand how the system wasn’t built with LGBTQI+ people in mind.
Most LGBTQI+ individuals relocate alone, often fleeing their own families. Yet the resettlement system assumes people arrive with built-in support networks, which they don’t. That leaves them vulnerable to social isolation and instability from day one.
Making an asylum claim also requires proving you deserve protection, which can be incredibly retraumatizing. You’re forced to provide evidence of your identity and persecution — even when you’ve had to hide both for survival. If you can’t “prove” it, your claim may be denied.
Add language barriers, lack of culturally competent translators, and complex paperwork, and you’ve got a system that’s often inaccessible to the very people it’s meant to help.
Can you tell us about the Communities of Care program? What prompted its creation?
The program launched in 2023 as part of a federal initiative to support LGBTQI+ refugee resettlement in the U.S. We mobilized small groups of volunteers, five or more LGBTQI+ individuals or allies, to support refugees as they settled into their new communities. They helped with housing, employment, education, transportation, and creating a sense of belonging.
When the program was suspended in January, we transformed it. Now, it focuses on supporting asylum seekers already in the U.S., many of whom are struggling without federal support.
We call on three or more volunteers to form a Community Support Team and work with an LGBTQI+ asylum seeker for six months. We train these teams to offer trauma-informed, competent care. It’s a way to create chosen family and rebuild community.
Can you tell us about the Community Access Fund?
That fund directly responds to the reduction in U.S. federal support for displaced LGBTQI+ individuals. We realized that many small, grassroots organizations doing vital work are severely underfunded or entirely volunteer-run.
So we created a pool of funds that these organizations can apply to. The first grantee was actually founded by someone we helped relocate to New York a few years ago. He saw that there were countless LGBTQI+ asylum seekers in NYC without access to community or services and decided to create that support himself.
We’ve supported groups in cities like New York, LA, and D.C., and the impact has been powerful. The fund is all about redistributing resources to the people who need them and who are already doing the work on the ground.
What can the average US citizen do to make a difference for LGBTQ asylum seekers and refugees?
So much! First, consider opening your home. Through our Rainbow Housing Drive, we ask people to offer a spare room or apartment at no cost, below-market, or even market rate, to someone in need.
You can also volunteer to form a Community Support Team with just two other people. Or donate to Rainbow Railroad. Honestly, even $5 helps. If everyone did that, the scale of what we could accomplish would be phenomenal.
We also encourage people to contact their elected officials at the city, state, or federal level. Let them know these issues matter to you. Support campaigns that uplift LGBTQI+ immigrants. Solidarity is powerful, and when we act together, we create real change.
This work can be heavy. As the Head of Engagement, how do you stay motivated?
Self-care is essential. Every morning, I wake up early and walk to work. It clears my mind. I take recovery seriously — emotional, physical, social, creative. Some evenings I turn my bathroom into a mini spa — candles, music, and a long bath. It grounds me.
But what really fuels me is my own journey. I’ve personally benefited from the work Rainbow Railroad does. I know how life-saving it is to be lifted from trauma and relocated somewhere you can truly live. Being part of gifting that to others drives me every day.
Our team is incredible. Resilient, dedicated, and deeply committed. And despite the challenges, we celebrate every win, no matter how small. Every life we help change matters.
Finally, what message of hope would you share with LGBTQ people who are fleeing persecution right now?
Hope is real, and it’s on the other side. There’s an entire global community, an army of people, who may not necessarily know your story, but who are bound together by our identities, understanding the persecution and discrimination that we as a community face. that knowledge makes us committed to doing everything in our power to ensure that everyone, every LGBTQI+ person, can live with not only dignity but also safety.
Trust that army to keep doing the work and to show up in solidarity. It may be difficult tomorrow or even next month, but there’s hope on the other side.
Ready to call Spain your new home? Join the thousands of Expats who have successfully relocated to Spain with our expert advice, resources, insider knowledge and handpicked network of service providers.
We ran into Alastair & Alison Johnson through the Expatsi organization. Find out everything you need to know about moving to Spain in this informative talk from people who know! Check them out at https://movingtospain.com/
Thinking about moving to Spain to escape political extremism in the U.S.? As part of the Flee Red States project, we sit down with Alastair Johnson of MovingToSpain.com , who has lived in Spain for many years with his wife and adult son.
In this interview, Alastair shares his first-hand experiences about:
🏳️🌈 The acceptance and visibility of the LGBTQ community in Spain
🏥 Easy access to Spain’s public healthcare system
🏡 Lifestyle, culture, and why Spain is a welcoming choice for American expats
🌞 The benefits of living abroad in a progressive, inclusive country
If you’re considering moving to Spain from the USA, becoming an American expat in Europe, or simply curious about LGBTQ rights in Spain, this video gives you practical insights and inspiration.
When Diana, a bisexual Russian asylum seeker, took part in her first Madrid Pride festival last year, she was delighted to see people waving the white-blue-white flag that has become a symbol of Russian opposition to its war on Ukraine.
She was also ecstatic to be among around 100 Russians who were waving LGBTQ flags and chanting, “Russia without Putin.” It felt surreal, said the 24-year-old, who did not want to give her last name for fear of retaliation.
“I couldn’t believe I would not be sent to prison. Everyone around was so happy,” she recalled as she marched again for Pride in the Spanish capital in July.
Also taking part was Ilia Andreev, who was vigorously waving a bright pink Mr Gay contest flag as the float he was perched on crept slowly through the crowds. For the 23-year-old, who fled Russia’s anti-LGBTQ laws in 2023, it was a moment to savour.
“I can be proud,” he said in Spanish.
The occasion was a far cry from the repression that drove him and other LGBTQ Russians out of their homeland in recent years, with many seeking refuge in Spain, which ranks fifth in the 2025 ILGA-Europe Rainbow Index, which ranks countries’ legal and policy practices.
“Spain is internationally recognized as a country that respects human rights and in particular the rights and freedoms of the LGBTQI+ community,” said Elma Saiz, the minister for Inclusion, Social Security and Migration, on International LGBTQI+ Pride Day in June.
Asylum applications from Russians more than doubled to 1,694 in 2023 from 684 in 2022, with Russia becoming one of the top 10 origin countries for applications in Spain, according to the Spanish Commission for Refugees (CEAR).
Of those processed, 59.7% received refugee status.
Elena Munoz, coordinator of the legal team at CEAR, said there had been a rise in Russian LGBTQ-related applications, although data on specific motives for asylum applications are not yet being collected.
The main reasons Russians gave for leaving their home included forced recruitment into the armed forces and the deteriorating human rights situation, including regarding gender identity and sexual orientation.
As well as introducing a raft of anti-LGBTQ laws, Russian President Vladimir Putin has been using the LGBTQ community as a political scapegoat, said Marc Marginedas, a journalist and expert in Russian affairs.
“Propaganda has fostered a climate comparable to Nazi Germany,” Marginedas said, saying Putin was using an “external enemy” to rally society and distract from military failures.
Legal crackdown in Russia
In 2013, Russian lawmakers passed a government-sponsored ban on distributing “propaganda of nontraditional sexual relationships” among minors.
In December 2022, after Russia launched its invasion of Ukraine, Putin signed an amendment to the law, extending the prohibition to all age groups.
The crackdown has led to the arrest of journalists, lawyers and human rights activists, with many others leaving the country.
Andreev, who worked as a TV journalist in the city of Kazan in southwestern Russia, said he had to hide his identity after he was accused of spreading “LGBTQ+ propaganda.”
“When I once wore earrings on air, I was called in by the news director and the executive program producer. She told me they had received many calls complaining about so-called gay propaganda because of the earrings,” he said.
He decided to come to Spain in 2023 on the recommendation of a friend, who had also moved.
Diana said she was fired after her boss saw her kiss her partner. She did not want to give details of her job or where she lived for fear of retribution.
While on holiday in Georgia in 2022, her home in Russia was visited by authorities because of her volunteer work with Ukrainians in Russian-occupied areas, and she decided she could not return. Growing anti-LGBTQ rhetoric in Georgia pushed her to move to Spain two years later.
Red tape and barriers
Andreev and Diana both applied for asylum and are still waiting for a ruling.
The legally mandated six-month process often stretches much longer, even up to two years. After six months, asylum seekers are allowed to seek work.
But it can take months to get an initial appointment with immigration authorities, and without this, asylum applicants cannot access state aid or support from organizations like CEAR.
Delays are also driving an illegal black market.
According to NGOs, Spanish police and officials, criminals collect immigration appointments using bots and then sell these so-called “mafia de citas,” or mafia appointments, for hundreds of euros on WhatsApp or Telegram to desperate asylum seekers.
And now things are getting for Russians hoping to submit asylum claims in Spain.
From July 12, Spain requires Russian citizens to obtain transit visas to pass through the country.
In the past, Russians would buy a ticket with a layover in Spain and then seek asylum during their stopover.
“It makes it difficult to reach safe territory, in this case Spain, because they no longer have a legal and safe route,” said Munoz, adding that reforms were needed to make the system more efficient.
The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which is responsible for visa policy, did not respond to requests for comment.
While they await their asylum decisions, Diana and Andreev are rebuilding their lives.
Andreev, who volunteers in an LGBTQ rights group, has found a home in a small town near Madrid and is working on his Spanish — he hopes to return to journalism one day. But he has struggled to build new relationships.
The stress of job hunting and trying to get all the documents he needs, plus the time it takes up make it hard to focus on building connections, he said.
Diana now has stable online work and says she has found her chosen family in Madrid, mainly thanks to online networks of LGBTQ+ Russians who offer each other support.
She feels free, even if she still fears Russian retaliation.
“If I want, I can date women, I can date men, I can date whoever. I’m not in a hurry. Why would you be in a hurry? The Spanish lifestyle relaxes you a little bit.”
Monica Helms, the Navy veteran and creator of the original transgender pride flag, is fleeing the country due to anti-LGBTQ persecution.
She and her wife, Darlene Wagner, launched a GoFundMe earlier this year to facilitate their move abroad.
“We are worried there’s a possibility something could happen where we end up getting arrested just for being who we are,” Helms said in an interview with the Bay Area Reporterwhen the fundraiser first kicked off.
The couple currently lives in Georgia, which Erin in the Morning’s newest risk assessment map labeled as a “high risk” area for transgender people. Helms is by no means the only transgender refugee fleeing the United States. In May, a Williams Institute poll found that nearly half of all trans adult respondents had considered moving out of state or out of the country.
Since 2023, almost three dozen anti-trans bills have been introduced in Georgia, four of which have passed, according to the Trans Legislation Tracker. There was a ban on trans girls playing on scholastic women’s sports teams, a ban on using state funds to provide transition-related health care to incarcerated people, a ban on providing evidence-based medical treatment for minors with gender dysphoria, and the Georgia Religious Freedom Restoration Act—which does not explicitly target trans people, but is likely to make it easier to discriminate against them using religion as a legal defense. (Thankfully, there have been some successful and ongoing legal challenges to many of these policies.)
NBC’s Jo Yurcaba profiled families of trans kids moving to places like Australia and New Zealand. Hannah Kreager, a 22-year-old trans woman from Arizona, filed a groundbreaking asylum claim in Canada earlier this year; if granted, it would mark the first time a trans person from the United States would be given asylum in another country due to their LGBT status.
Of course, all of these stories come with the presumption of privilege. Trans people in these scenarios may have had familial support and/or a source of income or wealth that enabled them to uproot their lives to a safer place. Others resort to bouncing from state to state to receive care, uprooting their lives to live in a more tolerant community or traveling across state or international lines periodically to access health care.
As for Helms, she vowed to continue to fight for trans people no matter where she lives. “We will not abandon our activism,” she wrote in her GoFundMe.
Helms designed the transgender pride flag after having a conversation with the creator of the bisexual pride flag in 1999, she told the Bay Area Reporter. She has said it is important to her that it remains open and free to use for the public. The pink, white, and blue flag has become a household symbol for trans people and their loved ones.
“No matter how you fly it, it’s always correct, which signifies finding correctness in our own lives,” Helms said.
Out Olympic gold medalist, Greg Louganis, shared the details of his move to Panama in a statement uploaded to his Facebook page on Friday. In the post, Louganis, who came out as gay in 1994 and shared that he was HIV-positive in 1995, auctioned and sold three of his five Olympic medals. According to Cllct.com, he sold two gold and one silver medal for $430,865—his first silver medal from the 1976 Olympics, a gold from the 1984 games in Los Angeles, and another gold from the 1988 Seoul Olympic games.
Referral claims for refugee protection in Canada from people in the U.S. have already surpassed last year’s total, based on data from Immigration and Refugee Board of Canada (IRB). These referrals also spiked the last time President Donald Trump was in office.
While there were 204 U.S. claim referrals to the board’s Refugee Protection Division total last year, 245 claims were referred to the RPD from January through June of this year. Trump was inaugurated in January.
For some perspective, there were 216 referrals listed from Afghanistan during that same time period this year, 62 listed from El Salvador, 2,784 listed from Mexico, 265 listed from Palestine, 260 listed from Syria, 403 listed from Venezuela and 131 listed from Yemen.
At the start of former President Joe Biden’s term in 2021, there were 118 claim referrals from the U.S., with the same number the following year – both a drop from 154 in 2020. In 2023, the number of referrals increased to 157.
However, back in 2013 – the first year that the IRB has data for – there were just 69 referrals. That was during the second term of former President Barack Obama, and while he was in office during 2014 and 2015 referrals were at 88 and 69 respectively. They increased to 129 in 2016, when Trump was campaigning against Democratic candidate and former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.
During Trump’s first year in office in 2017, the referrals skyrocketed to 869. In 2018, they were still higher at 642, followed by 423 in 2019.
When asked by Newsweek about the referral increase this year, White House Deputy Press Secretary Anna Kelly said: “Why does Newsweek care about this .00007 percent of the population who want higher taxes, worse health care, and anti-American trade policies?”
Bloomberg reported this week that officials from the U.S. and Canada are expected to discuss tariffs soon. That outlet has also reported on an influx of people from the U.S. attempting to cross the border into Canada. It said that “during the first six days of July, Canadian officials at the Saint-Bernard-de-Lacolle border crossing – the busiest land port between New York and Quebec – received 761 asylum claims, a more than 400% increase from the same period a year ago.”
In Canada, refugee advocates, federal government departments and immigration lawyers were already bracing for asylum claimants from the U.S. in January, according to the CBC.
“With Trump, crystal balls are hard to keep clear,” said Gabriela Ramo, past chair of the Canadian Bar Association’s immigration section, per the outlet.
In addition to the crackdown on illegal immigration, reasons why people might be seeking to leave the U.S. cited by Newsweek include U.S. policy shifts and court rulings have restricted access to gender-affirming care, limited who can serve in the military, and imposed rules on participation in sports and the use of certain facilities. This month, Audacy reported that the president’s approval rating even among his own party was slipping. This Tuesday, Gallup reported that Trump’s polling was “tepid” this month at 40%. Economist approval tracking updated Tuesday showed that his rating was up slightly compared to the previous week at 41%.
Moving to a new country is a big decision, and for LGBTQ Americans, finding a place that is not only welcoming but also legally protective is a top priority. While many European nations have made significant strides in LGBTQ+ rights, one country consistently stands out for its progressive laws and accepting culture: Malta. This tiny island nation in the heart of the Mediterranean has become a beacon of hope, earning a reputation as one of the most LGBTQ-friendly countries in the world.
Malta’s journey to becoming an LGBTQ+ rights leader is a remarkable story of rapid progress. For several years, it has topped the ILGA-Europe’s Rainbow Map, a ranking of 49 European countries based on their legal and policy practices for LGBTQ+ people. This isn’t a fluke; it’s the result of a concerted effort to enshrine equality into law. Same-sex sexual activity was decriminalized in 1973, but the most significant changes have happened in the last decade.
In 2014, Malta legalized civil unions, giving same-sex couples the same rights and responsibilities as married couples, including the right to adopt children. Just three years later, in 2017, the country took the monumental step of legalizing same-sex marriage, a move that replaced the traditional “husband and wife” with the gender-neutral term “spouses”. This wasn’t just a legal formality; it was a powerful statement of inclusion.
Beyond relationship recognition, Malta has also been a trailblazer in other areas. In 2016, it became the first country in the European Union to ban conversion therapy, a harmful and discredited practice [4]. The Gender Identity, Gender Expression and Sex Characteristics Act of 2015 allows transgender people to change their legal gender without the need for surgery or a medical diagnosis, a process based on self-determination [5]. The country also provides gender-affirming care and has banned intersex infant surgeries without medical necessity. These protections extend to employment, housing, and healthcare, ensuring that LGBTQ+ individuals are shielded from discrimination in their daily lives.
While a country’s legal framework is crucial, the lived experience is just as important. Malta’s culture, while traditionally Catholic, has shown a remarkable shift toward acceptance. Public displays of affection are generally well-received, and the LGBTQ+ community is active and visible. Valletta, the capital, and nearby Sliema are known for their vibrant scenes, with dedicated gay bars, clubs, and events, including a lively Pride celebration in September. Rabat has also been mentioned.
So How Do I Get There?
As with any country friendly to immigration, you have options. You can try out living there first simply by applying for a Digital Nomad visa, and become a full time paid blogger. There are other programs to establish residence, which include investing locally. You can buy or rent property as well.
For LGBTQ Americans considering a move abroad, Malta offers a compelling combination of legal protections, a high degree of social acceptance, and a beautiful, sunny, and historic location. The country’s commitment to equality is not just a passing trend; it’s a foundational principle that makes it an ideal place to call home.
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