David Weiner, right, discusses next steps with members of the Desert Stonewall Democrats. Credit: Haleemon Anderson

When David Weiner called the November meeting of the Desert Stonewall Democrats, he’d already made his decision. 

This wouldn’t be the celebration many had anticipated. Reality was setting in, and Weiner had heard that many colleagues weren’t doing well. Some were angry and in shock; others were consumed with fear and anxiety. This first meeting since Donald Trump’s election would need to be a therapy session. But first, Weiner had an announcement.

“I’m stepping down,” he said. 

Weiner had steered the group as president for three years. But now, there was an urgency in his personal life that he couldn’t shake. His fiancée lives in South America, and as a Venezuelan national, “I don’t know when, if ever, he will be able to come to this country,” Weiner said.

He told the caucus he’s decided to opt out of local politics, at least in person. “I’m doing it for love,” he said, explaining his plan to reunite with his fiancée. “There is no place I’d rather live (than Palm Springs),” but with Trump threatening even more punitive immigration policies during a second term, Weiner said it was an easy decision.

He does tax accounting, so he can work remotely and stay involved with Stonewall and the state Democratic Party. During the COVID-19 shutdowns, they instituted hybrid meetings.

“This is one of the largest (in-person) gatherings we’ve had in a while,” he said. “I think people realize that we are the resistance.”

Dr. Jill Hingston, the director of behavioral health services at the LGBTQ Community Center of the Desert, was asked to come and facilitate a discussion. “There’s no set agenda, just a safe place to talk,” she said. “Being together and sharing stories—that’s community.” She cautioned the Stonewall members to resist the urge to isolate.

Dr. Jill Hingston: “I think all of us wanted to just stay in bed and pull the covers over our heads after the election. That’s OK for a day or two, but any more than that, it becomes dangerous and unhealthy.” Credit: Haleemon Anderson

Members shared their fears and talked about what they were doing to cope with anxiety. For Elle Kurpiewski, changing her routine helped. She said she had two good cries, and then decided to catch up on non-political books and movies.

“Staying busy—but not in the same way,” she said.

Kurpiewski volunteers as development director at the Democratic Headquarters of the Desert. She told the Independent the organization is keeping its Cathedral City office open four days a week. They’ve had a few calls, and though they don’t offer counsel and comfort, they can listen, she said.

“What we’ve done is simply be available. (People) want to vent a little bit,” she said. “What I’m saying—and many of us are saying the same thing: Everybody, take a breath. You’re not going to solve this thing tomorrow morning. We have begun the discussion of: What do we do next? And the consensus has been, ‘It’s the holidays. Let’s take this time to kind of clear our heads, and then, in January, really come back and make some decisions.’”

Hingston told the group that the trans community is especially vulnerable now. 

“They’re terrified,” she said. 

The Center was already holding election-anxiety support groups before the election. She told the Independent: “I’ve heard a lot of projection into horrible things that could happen in the near future, especially with our transgender population. The day after the election, we held four post-election support groups, and then one that Thursday and Friday, and now we’re doing two a week.

“One of our strategic initiatives here at The Center is ending isolation and loneliness. I think all of us wanted to just stay in bed and pull the covers over our heads after the election. That’s OK for a day or two, but any more than that, it becomes dangerous and unhealthy. We’re just encouraging people to get out, find community and get involved in whatever way you feel like you have the capacity to do. Feeling like you’re doing something, I think, also helps, and not just sitting back and watching the horror—or future-tripping and thinking, ‘Oh my gosh, what might happen?’”


David “Jax” Kelly is the co-founder of Barbershop, a support group promoting health and wellness among Black men in the Coachella Valley. The group hasn’t formally discussed the election, but Kelly said he was disturbed by the misinformation and bigotry unleashed during the election cycle. He cited a series of racist messages targeted at Black college students. 

“There are stories like that, that start circulating,” Kelly told the Independent. “One of the biggest concerns I have right now is the level of misinformation that’s out there. People, when they hear something, they just amplify it.” 

The FBI initially investigated the messages before referring them to local authorities.

“There was so much misogyny, so much racism,” Kelly said. “So many bad things were all under the umbrella of that administration’s campaign; I think it’s going to be a challenge for people who didn’t vote for him to be confronted with people who are probably going to be wearing T-shirts saying, ‘He’s my president,’ or ‘Trump 2028,’ or, ‘Trump is dictator.’ When their guy is chosen, you know, they want to celebrate it. But is celebrating it the same thing as when I see somebody with a Confederate flag? I don’t know. Does that stir up the same feelings? You know, we’re all going to have to kind of deal with that on some level.”

A couple of online attendees of the Stonewall meeting expressed a desire to take action immediately. A man named Robert said, “I’m looking for ways to fight back.” He said he’d like to join up with other people and do more than just make financial contributions.

“That’s the fear—that they’re just going to come in and basically take an ax to people’s rights. We don’t know how far the courts will let him go.” Jill Hingston, director of behavioral health services, LGBTQ Community Center of the Desert

Hingston left the meeting to return to the Center for a late-night support group. She told the Independent that fear among younger clients is palpable. 

“The Trevor Project suicide hotline, which is geared toward young queer people, had a 700% increase in their calls the day after the election, because young people are freaking out,” she said.

Hingston hopes California’s progressive status will be a shield—at least for now. 

“The feeling is that we’ll have (protections) for maybe a little longer than other states, but the fear is that there’s going to be some federal mandate,” she said. “(Supreme Court Justice) Clarence Thomas has said he wants to take away our (same-sex) right to marry. So, if the Supreme Court decides that, then federally, I don’t know what that means for us. So that’s the fear—that they’re just going to come in and basically take an ax to people’s rights. We don’t know how far the courts will let him go.”

Hingston said The Center working on various community-wide gatherings, including one next Monday, Nov. 25, at the Palm Springs Pavilion.

“We want to bring people together to heal and (ask) also: How do we move forward from here?” Hingston said. “In the post-election groups, almost every single person who has shown up is just thankful to have a place to be where they can talk, or just sit and listen and feel safe—because I don’t know about you, but out in the world, it feels unsafe again.”

The LGBTQ Community Center of the Desert will host “Building Resilience,” a 90-minute session dedicated to “strengthening the community’s ability to face challenges together. This gathering will bring together LGBTQ+ people and our allies to explore what resilience means at both personal and community levels.” It takes place at 5 p.m., Monday, Nov. 25, at the Palm Springs Pavilion, 401 S. Pavilion Way, in Palm Springs. RSVPs are encouraged; click here to do so.

Haleemon Anderson is a native New Orleanian who had lived in Los Angeles her entire adult life before coming to the Coachella Valley. She has returned to reporting full-time as a California Local News...