communications – GLIDE – San Francisco: serving the people of the Tenderloin and San Francisco since 1963

In celebration of Pride Month, GLIDE’s Center for Social Justice and the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence co-hosted a powerful panel on queer history and futures, called “House of GLIDE.” The evening was also graced by a gorgeous dance performance from Sir JoQ and Crew.

Karl Robillard, GLIDE’s Chief Communications and Public Affairs Officer, welcomed the audience with a powerful personal story. “My friend and I were just two gay boys traveling to San Francisco, sixteen hours before Matthew Shepard was brutally killed and murdered,” he said, referencing the homophobic murder in 1998 of a gay student in Wyoming that led to hate crimes prevention legislation.

“You can imagine how we felt when we heard the news,” said Karl. “But as soon as we arrived in San Francisco, we made a beeline to the Castro. And there, right in front of the Bank of America, there was an altar of flowers to Matthew Shepard piled so high. I saw that altar and immediately thought to myself, ‘I am home.’ And 28 years later, I still feel that.”

The role of joy in building community

The Glide Ensemble sung “Unspeakable Joy,” and Minister Marvin K. White was applauded for his historic decision to permanently fly the Pride flag on Glide Memorial Church. The charismatic Sister Roma from the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence commented, “Being with all of you and hearing unspeakable joy from choir really makes me think, ‘I need to go to church.’ There’s so much crap around us all the time. We need joy!”

Honey Mahogany, Director of the Office of Transgender Initiatives for the city of San Francisco, reminded the audience, “Pride has always been about more than celebration: it’s been about survival, resistance and chosen family.”

Juanita MORE!, gorgeous in a stunning dress reminiscent of a monarch butterfly, testified to the power of San Francisco’s queer community: “There’s a group of people I met at Booty Call Wednesday. We grew up together, came out together, transitioned together, and they are still my chosen family.”

The importance of queer solidarity

Honey Mahogany also reminded us, “It was not so long ago that we were not allowed to gather in spaces. That was the reason for the Compton’s Cafeteria and the Stonewall Riots. It used to be that when we gathered, we would be thrown in paddywagons, our names published in newspapers. Now they are trying to take us back to those times. So it is more important than ever that we gather together, shine together, be loud, proud, weird, queer and trans together.”

The panelists inspired us with reminders of how queer communities have triumphed over fear and hatred for centuries. Minister Marvin K. White said, “The project to run queer people out of church is because we are powerful… They run us out and tell us there’s no way back in because they are afraid of us! My faith is about getting people back to their power.”

How queer history informs our present

Sister Roma described how hate crimes around Dolores Park inspired her dive into politics in 1987. Flyers with a pink triangle (the symbol Nazis forced on gay people during the Holocaust) and the slogan, “Stop the violence,” went viral. 39 years later, the Stop the Violence campaign is still going strong, with safety whistles and mutual aid.

Another successful campaign initiated by Sister Roma was the #MyNameIs campaign, a protest of FB’s policy which forced use of legal names instead of real names. This was particularly harmful to trans people due to the emotional trauma caused by deadnaming, but it was also unsafe for others, such as domestic violence survivors whose abusers could suddenly find personal information about them by looking up their legal name.

Juanita MORE!, known for throwing fabulous parties that raised money for LGBT+ causes, talked about the importance of joyful activism during times of grief and struggle. “In 1992, I was living through the AIDS crisis,” she said. “I was grieving a boyfriend who had passed away four months ago. Drag gave me the freedom to reconnect with my community.”

Tom Ammiano reminisced about the years when Regan and the right wing wanted God in the classroom but were also cutting school funding. Engaging in political struggle helped him feel empowered during bad times.

He also spoke about the importance of making all struggle intersectional with class struggle. “What this church does addresses something that is missing from a lot of politics– even the gay politicos miss it. GLIDE looks at the class issue– at not letting the ruling class diminish the humanity we all feel. If that’s spiritual, then I’m spiritual!” He then described how the intersectional lens used by GLIDE’s co-founder Reverend Cecil Williams helped unite black and gay communities around the shared issue of police violence.

The power of hope in challenging facism

All panelists spoke about the fear and tension queer folks experience in the current political atmosphere. “The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence have always been a litmus test for the First Amendment,” Sister Roma said. “In the past we have felt the Constitution was rock solid protection. Right now it feels more tenuous, it feels like there’s a very thin wall separating us from facism, it feels those rights and protections could be swept away with a stroke of a pen from an executive order.” But then she laughed and added that the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence have always been committed to speaking their minds despite the risks.

Minister Marvin K. White urged people to find strength in spirituality, inside or outside traditional religion. “You might find your spirituality in the awe of the night sky, in walks by the ocean, in the affirmation that lives on your refrigerator, on the dance floor, or in love itself. Spirituality is inherent. Once you practice it, it expands. It takes up more room than your body once you pay attention to it. If you think about their hate more than you think about your love, then they win. It’s a distraction. Remember we have survived everything they have thrown at us. Inside or outside organized religion, we are powerful, and we are here to love.”

The panel closed with questions from the audience– a young activist seeking advice on how to navigate the balance between assimilation and resistance was the first to speak up.

Tom Ammiano advised him to consider civil disobedience, to never shy from confrontation, for example, “take on the gay community when they are being racist.” The important thing, he clarified, was to have a group who thought the same as you on social justice issues. “Remember that even as you are searching for other people, they are searching for you!” Honey Mahogany advised the young activist to join many groups in order to receive a variety of perspectives. “Don’t be boxed in or defined by one specific group,” she advised.

We went away from the night with hope, inspiration, joy, energy, and delight for the struggle ahead.

On Saturday May 16th, musicians from many faith organizations (including Glide Memorial Church, City of Refuge UCC, and Oakland Interfaith Gospel Choir) joined together for a day of teaching, fellowship, and artistic exchange, funded by the generous gift of the Haas Foundation.

Teachers included Mark Montgomery French and Zoë Ellis from Glide Memorial Church, Eric Gilbert from the First Covenant Church of Oakland, artist Nona Brown, Derrick Hall the Music Minister at Allen Temple, Dr. Rusty Watson, the Minister of Music at City of Refuge and Love Center Ministries, and Linda Tillery, from the Cultural Heritage Choir, among others. In this post we’d like to share a few gems from this amazing event. The famed UCC Bishop Yvette Flunder opened with a welcome and blessed the event.

Bishop Flunder encouraged the gathered musicians by telling them: “Songs and singings are at the forefront of every great social movement– both in Biblical times and today! Movements stay moving in large part due to MUSIC.” Bishop Flunder then sang, “I Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me Round,” (coincidentally, the very song Zoë Ellis had planned for Glide Memorial Church’s Celebration the next day!)

Then the participants received joyful, energy-filled lessons from musicians Nona and Rusty. When asked why they chose music ministry, they both replied, “I didn’t choose it– it chose me.”

Rusty told an inspirational story to encourage the participants present. When he first entered music leadership as a young man, he had anxiety about winning attention and acknowledgement for his work. After all, this is a world where most young artists are told they have the obligation to self-promote!

But Rusty’s mentor at the time gave him a wonderful piece of advice: “Stop worrying about YOU and start worrying about God and the work you’re doing. The rest will come.” After Rusty released his anxiety and just let it go, that’s when his reputation and fame began to grow organically. The lesson: our creativity is able to spread its wings when we are given permission to release our egos.

Lunch was catered by Rico Pabon from CaliRican Catering, a Puerto Rican catering company owned by a musician and a social justice activist! The participants enjoyed a spectacular fellowship lunch where they formed new friendships across many different music ministries in the Bay Area.

After lunch, Mark Montgomery French interviewed musician Tammy Hall, Eric Gilbert (Worship Director First Covenant Church of Oakland), and Derrick Hall (The Worship Arts Director at Allen Temple in Oakland) about the role of music in inspiring personal and social change. You can watch the panel here.

The grand finale of the day was a stunning lesson in music and music history from Linda Tillery, who taught the musicians field hollers, prison work songs, and old spirituals, educating them on the roots of Black music history in America. A moment when the workshop participants perfectly blended together three different spirituals into one glorious melody was absolutely magical.

One of the best moments for Glide Memorial Church’s Director of Music Ministries came the next day, when she spoke to Jay, a new alto in the choir, about how they enjoyed Roots and Resonance. Jay reflected on the role that music ministry played in personal transformation. “Bishop Yvette talked to us today about how the battle is often fought with music,” they said. “For me, the battle is often fought inside, and I feel alone. But my spirit felt less alone after this event.”

“It doesn’t get much better for me as a Director than that,” said Zoë Ellis, reflecting with satisfaction on Jay’s remark. “Community was built that day.” Special thanks to the City of Refuge audiovisual team whose help was instrumental for producing this event.

Special thanks to Marilyn Fowler, a lay minister at City of Refuge who was instrumental in organizing this event.

“Ten years I gave to my dependency.”

Muhammad Karuo says it honestly, when reflecting on a chapter of his life he wishes he could get back.

Originally from Compton, California, Muhammad moved to San Francisco looking for a fresh start. But he was still carrying out the weight of mental health challenges, periods of being unhoused, and meth dependency.

For a long time, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with the way he was living.

“I always thought of myself. I don’t have kids, so I didn’t see any harm in how I was living,” he said.

Eventually, Muhammad decided he wanted something different.

After connecting with GLIDE’s Health Empowerment and Access Treatment (HEAT) Program, he began working with HEAT Coordinator Nathan Bronson. Nathan helped him get connected to resources, including Electronic Benefits Transfer (EBT) benefits, mailing address, and treatment services.

On January 30, with support from HEAT and Bronson, Muhammad entered Walden House, a residential treatment program where he spent three months focusing on himself and the changes he wanted to make. It was the first step toward leaving behind a lifestyle that had defined much of the last decade.

“GLIDE, through their support, taught me to care for myself,” Muhammad said. “It was time for me to change. I always thought of myself. I don’t have kids, so I didn’t see any harm with how I was living. Ten years I gave to my dependency.”

After graduating from Walden House, Muhammad moved into a step-down program on Treasure Island. The supportive housing program gave him a stable place to live while he continued treatment and adjusted to life outside of residential care.

Nathan says the accomplishment belongs to Muhammad.

“I’m proud of him,” Nathan said. “He did the work, and he has made a way for himself.”

Today, Muhammad is continuing the work he started. The new beginning he came to San Francisco looking for is finally starting to take shape.

My name is Larissa Candice Thornton.

I’m a Bay Area native, but in 2015 I moved to San Francisco seeking something I wasn’t sure I could find anywhere else: a chance to rebuild my life. I was struggling with mental health challenges and substance use, and what began as a problem with alcohol eventually progressed to harder drugs. I’d heard San Francisco offered services and support for people facing the same struggles, and I came here hoping recovery might be possible for me too.

I first connected with GLIDE through the Free Meals program. I attended church services, received a Tuberculosis test at GLIDE’s Health Hub so I could access shelter services, and became familiar with the support available there. As I began rebuilding my life, I wanted a way to give back to the community that helped me. I started volunteering with the Free Meals program, serving breakfast and helping at GLIDE’s Thanksgiving event. Then I got an email from the Center for Social Justice and announced that a new cohort was forming. The message explained that participants could learn how GLIDE advocates for its programs, build skills for personal and professional growth, and become more involved in social justice work. That caught my attention!

By then, I had been in recovery for about a year, and today I’m proud to say I’m 20 months clean. I had already participated in community efforts like Drug-Free Sidewalks and had spoken at City Hall against budget cuts, but I wanted to understand more about how change happens—how organizations advocate, influence policy, and secure funding to save lives.

The Social Justice Academy (SJA) showed me how I could be involved in creating legislative change. It showed me how my lived experience could become a tool for advocacy and how much my voice mattered.

SJA moments of learning

I traveled to Sacramento to advocate for policy changes and funding for public health services, including health access centers. I learned how to use my personal story to explain why these services matter and how they help people recover. Being able to say, from my own experience, “This is a service that we need,” was incredibly powerful.

The work of the Health Hub saves lives because it keeps people connected to care, even when they’re not ready or able to stop using. Those services helped me through some of the hardest periods of my life. Instead of being judged, I was met with compassion and practical support. That gave me the space to reflect on my choices, recognize how far I had come, and move towards recovery.

Another memorable experience was visiting San Francisco City Hall and meeting with supervisors. Before the Academy, I didn’t even know who many of the supervisors were, let alone that I could speak with them directly. What surprised me most was learning that our stories weren’t just welcome—they were important. The supervisors wanted to hear directly from people affected by the issues they were discussing. Our experiences mattered to them when they made policy decisions.

It felt surreal to go from seeing public officials on television to sitting across from them and having real conversations. These are people who advocate for LGBTQIA+ communities, social services, and residents facing some of the city’s greatest challenges. They care about people struggling with addiction, illness, poverty, and homelessness, and they understand that everyone deserves a chance in life.

For the first time, I felt like some of the hardest experiences of my life could be used to help other people. Meeting State Assemblymember Matt Haney was especially meaningful. After listening closely to all the Social Justice Academy advocate’s stories, he shared thoughtful feedback.

I spoke with him about GLIDE’s Health Empowerment and Access services, including Narcan distribution, hepatitis C prevention, and drug-testing strips. These services help people stay safe while they’re struggling, and they often become the first step toward recovery. Meeting people where they are in life gives them the chance to make safer choices, reflect on the impact of substance use, and eventually move toward healing and recovery, just as I did.

A way forward thanks to GLIDE

To me, GLIDE stands for unconditional love. When you don’t love yourself, when you feel hopeless and directionless, that love can change everything. It starts with a warm hello, a hot meal, medical care, or someone simply treating you with dignity. Over time, that care helps you begin loving yourself again, taking better care of yourself, and believing that a different future is possible.

Looking ahead, I want to continue volunteering with the Free Meals program and remain involved with GLIDE’s Center for Social Justice. I want to attend more rallies, speak at City Hall, and continue advocating for resources that reach the people who need them most. One day, I would even love to serve on the San Francisco Board of Supervisors and use my experiences to help shape policies that support vulnerable communities.

I’m currently studying social work, and once I earn my associate degree, I hope to apply what I’ve learned and be able to support others as a case manager. That would mean everything to me.

One person who has deeply inspired me is Regina Wells Rashida Oji. She taught me the importance of “rest as resistance” and the value of caring for myself spiritually, mentally, and physically. Through grounding exercises and reflection, she showed us how to center ourselves before speaking and how to channel our energy into meaningful action.

Regina taught us that caring for ourselves isn’t separate from advocacy—it’s what makes advocacy sustainable. When we’re grounded, we’re better able to communicate our values, stand firmly in our convictions, and show up fully for our communities.

What does GLIDE mean to me?

When people ask what GLIDE has meant to me, I always come back to this: GLIDE will love you until you can love yourself. GLIDE meets you where you’re at and helps put you on a path toward a life that feels meaningful and worthwhile. No matter what you’re facing, I want people to know there is hope and there is life beyond the struggles of today.

Sometimes it begins with something as simple as being seen as a human being, sharing a hot meal, receiving medical care, accessing harm reduction services, or attending a church service. Those experiences restore your spirit. They remind you that you matter and that a future is still possible, even when life feels overwhelming.

When your basic needs are met and you’re supported in the present moment, you begin to imagine more for yourself. You start believing that you deserve healing, opportunity, and joy. GLIDE helps people get there, and I will always be grateful for that.

I wholeheartedly recommend the Social Justice Academy to anyone interested in advocacy, leadership, and self-empowerment. It can transform how you see yourself. You go from being someone who feels invisible, someone people won’t even look in the eye, to recognizing the power of your own lived experience.

Today, I know my story matters. I’ve created a YouTube channel where I share how I navigate mental health and substance abuse challenges. I’ve learned that every person deserves to be seen, heard, and given the opportunity to thrive. That’s what GLIDE gave me, and it’s what I hope to help provide for others in the years ahead.

U.S. Senator Cory Booker grew up in a middle class suburb but chose to live in a housing project while governing Newark. So when Assemblymember Matt Haney welcomed Sen. Cory Booker to the GLIDE stage, he observed, “If Sen. Booker lived in San Francisco, he would probably live a couple blocks from here,” acknowledging the senator’s solidarity with those most in need.

Mentored and inspired by a tenant organizer

Sen. Booker opened with stories about the mentor who shaped him as a young man: Ms. Virginia Jones, a neighborhood elder, no more than five feet tall, but with an unforgettable presence. President of the local tenant organization, deeply respected in the low-income community he served, she rapidly deflated his savior complex.

When he described the neighborhood to her — the abandoned buildings, the drug use, the graffiti — she stopped him cold. “Boy, you need to understand something,” she told him. “The world you see outside of you is a reflection of what you have inside of you. If you’re one of those stubborn people who every time you open your eyes, you see love, you see hope, you see possibility, you see the face of God — then you could help me make a difference.”

That lesson became the foundation of Sen. Booker’s political life. “People like to say, ‘Thank you for what you did for Newark,'” he told the audience. “But I say you’ve got it backwards. Newark saved me. The community of people saved me, taught me lessons of meaning, dignity, courageous empathy, connectivity, and love.”

Watch our Cory Booker highlight reel!

“Stay faithful,” the secret to resilience in trauma

Then Sen. Booker shared one of the most harrowing moments of his life: two years after losing a closely contested mayoral race, a shooting broke out in his neighborhood. He ran toward it. He found a young man with bullet wounds in his chest, put his hands on the wound, and begged him to stay alive. The young man died.

Later, alone in his apartment, Sen. Booker stood in front of a bathroom mirror trying to scrub the blood from his hands — even after it was gone. “Something ruptured in me in a way that it’s never ruptured before,” he said. “I never felt my heart fill with such darkness. I felt rage and anger — that we are a nation that swears an oath of liberty and justice for all. But where is the justice when children in our communities are dying and it doesn’t even make the newspaper?”

The next morning, he stepped into the lobby of his building and found Ms. Jones. She opened her arms. He ran to her like a little boy and broke down crying.

“She held me and let me cry,” Sen. Booker said. “And then she started saying two words over and over again — words that I still say on the Senate floor when we’re banging our heads against implacable walls of resistance: ‘Stay faithful. Stay faithful. Stay faithful.'”

Those words, he told the crowd at GLIDE, belong to all of us — words of a people who, generation after generation, have worked to make a nation that did not love them, BECOME a nation truly of love.

“Hope is not a feeling — it’s an act of conviction”

Sen. Booker challenged the audience to refuse normalization of the crises around us. “We should not normalize people who fear calling an ambulance because of the cost,” he declared. “We should not normalize that people have to choose between paying their rent and paying for their prescription drugs. We should not normalize that daycare is more expensive than college tuition.”

He pushed back against those who try to dismiss social safety nets as radical policies. “Call me radical if I believe children should have food, great public schools, and housing over their heads. Call me radical if I believe there should be no homelessness in America — because we literally say in our national anthem that we’re the home of the brave.”

On the love agenda — a phrase Dr. Gina raised in the context of GLIDE’s values — Sen. Booker was emphatic: “A love agenda has sharp policy implications. Policies rooted in love for one another are more economically sound than policies that are not. The neglect and the lack of investment in loving our community costs us as a society so much more.”

Policy recommendations, from eviction prevention to tax fairness

GLIDE President & CEO Dr. Gina Fromer asked Sen. Booker what he’s doing to support the unhoused, and he came prepared with specifics. He called for a national right to counsel in eviction proceedings, citing research showing that legal representation reduces eviction rates by 75%.

“Someone being evicted because they’re $1,000 behind on rent will cost a city far more than $1,000 once they’re unhoused,” he explained. “It is so much cheaper for a community to keep someone in a home than to deal with the consequences of homelessness.”

He also proposed a renter’s tax deduction modeled after the mortgage interest deduction, arguing that renters — who are disproportionately lower-income — deserve the same tax benefits that homeowners receive.

On the broader economy, he outlined a two-pronged vision: passing five anti-corruption laws to get corporate and billionaire money out of politics, and restructuring federal taxes so that no American earning under $75,000 pays federal income tax. “Make work pay again,” he said simply.

He also cited a striking statistic: 97% of federal agricultural subsidies go toward highly processed foods, while only about 7% support healthy options. “A Twinkie is cheaper than an apple not because of the free market, but because big food has rigged the system. We’ve created structures that build in the things that are more expensive for our health and our communities.”

You are not powerless: the story that made a Senator.

The event closed with an incredibly powerful story. Dr. Gina raised the issue of voting rights — something GLIDE engages with deeply through its annual Alabama Pilgrimage— and asked what people can do when the system feels rigged against them.

Sen. Booker answered with a story. On March 7th, 1965 — Bloody Sunday — a white lawyer in New Jersey named Marty Friedman was watching a protest in Selma, Alabama. He watched a protester who was trying to defend his mom from being beaten by police get shot to death. The lawyer saw the brutality and felt the pull to act. But he had just started a law firm– he couldn’t just hop on the plane to Alabama to defend protesters. So at first, he felt powerless.

But then he made a decision that Booker called one of the greatest decisions he’d ever heard of: “I’m not going to let my inability to do everything undermine my determination to do something.”

He started doing one extra hour of pro bono civil rights work each week in New Jersey. He partnered with Ms. Lee Porter of the Fair Housing Council. Together, they spent years documenting and fighting housing discrimination — placing Black families and white families at the same homes to expose the gap in treatment. In 1969, they helped a family from the South move into a New Jersey neighborhood that had turned them away. A mother, a father, a two-year-old, and a baby in a crib moved into that home.

“Forty-four years later,” Booker said, his voice rising, “the baby from that crib became America’s fourth Black person ever elected to the United States Senate. That baby was me. I am here because one man said: I AM NOT POWERLESS.”

The crowd erupted with applause, truly inspired. You can read more about this story in an excerpt from Cory Booker’s past book, or you can order his most recent book, Stand.

View more photos of Cory Booker at GLIDE!

GLIDE is honored to be a space where conversations like this happen — where political leaders, community members, and changemakers sit together and commit to a more just, loving, and courageous world. If you want to be part of that work, consider joining our Justice Warriors and staying connected to GLIDE’s advocacy.

When My’Quashah first arrived in San Francisco nearly three years ago, she and her boyfriend were hopeful about building a new life. They had come to California for a job opportunity and the chance to experience something new.

But over time, the realities of San Francisco’s high cost of living — combined with the absence of nearby family support — made stability increasingly difficult, especially while raising children.

A few months ago, My’Quashah turned to GLIDE for help through the Journey Home program. At the time, her family was struggling financially and feeling isolated far from the support network they had back home in South Carolina.

“Most all of our village is here in South Carolina,” she shared. “It was very hard to keep a steady income without having the help.”

With support from GLIDE staff, including ongoing assistance and care from Journey Home Case Manager Chazz Medeiros, My’Quashah and her family were able to successfully return home and reconnect with loved ones.

She described being reunited with family and spending more time with her children as the biggest and most meaningful change in her life. “Being able to be around family and have my kids, being able to spend more time with family — that’s the main thing,” she said.

Even after returning home, My’Quashah says GLIDE’s support has continued. Chazz still checks in regularly, sharing helpful resources and information for her family.

“Chazz is very communicative,” she said. “To this day he continues to send me different things that’ll help me and my family, which I’m so appreciative of, and incredibly grateful for.”

Now back in South Carolina with greater stability and family support, My’Quashah says she would absolutely recommend GLIDE and the Journey Home program to others facing similar hardships.

In fact, before leaving California, she had already referred another person from her apartment building to GLIDE for help.

Reflecting on her experience, My’Quashah offers a heartfelt message to the GLIDE team:

“Keep doing the good work that you guys are doing. It’s invaluable for those of us looking for our next chapter in life.”

April and May are among the busiest months for policy advocacy in Sacramento, California’s capital. As legislators vote on bills and make critical budget decisions, GLIDE community advocates are making their voices heard and speaking truth to power about what our communities need most.

This spring, GLIDE advocated independently, alongside community partners during End the Epidemics’ Day of Action, and with more than 100 doctors from medical schools across California across three separate advocacy days. Together, we maximized opportunities to meet with legislators and push for solutions to the urgent issues impacting our community.

On April 28, staff from GLIDE’s Center for Social Justice (CSJ) and members of the Social Justice Academy joined doctors and medical residents from across the state to advocate for expanded healthcare access. What began as a partnership between GLIDE and the University of California San Francisco (UCSF) has since grown into a statewide advocacy effort, bringing together medical schools from across California.

Members of the Social Justice Academy — all transitional-age youth (ages 18–27) — met with staff from San Francisco legislators’ offices to emphasize the importance of healthcare access and advocate for the Health4All budget and legislative priorities. Together, they called for making Medi-Cal more accessible, protecting immigrant communities’ access to care, and preventing the most harmful impacts of proposed federal cuts.

Lobbying for funding of overdose prevention programs

The following week, on May 6, CSJ staff and members of another Social Justice Academy cohort joined advocates, people with lived experience of substance use, and people living with HIV for End the Epidemics’ Day of Action. Together, they urged lawmakers to fund overdose prevention programs and critical services for people at risk of or living with HIV.

Social Justice Academy members shared powerful personal stories highlighting the urgent need for access to HIV prevention and treatment medications, as well as services that prevent overdoses and connect people to substance use treatment and support.

End the Epidemics is a statewide coalition working to eliminate health inequities and end the epidemics of HIV, sexually transmitted infections (STIs), viral hepatitis, and overdose across California.

Meeting with State Legislators

On May 20, GLIDE CEO Dr. Gina Fromer, GLIDE Chief Communications Officer, Karl Robillard, Senior Director of the Center for Social Justice, Naeemah Charles, and Director of Public Policy, Eleana Binder went up to Sacramento to meet with San Francisco legislators and catch up with a couple of legislators who attended the Alabama Pilgrimage.

We advocated for our community’s needs – including continued access to Medi-Cal and CalFresh, despite federal cuts. We also uplifted the importance of our programs that receive state funding.

GLIDE is proud to be lifting up the voices of our staff, clients, and community members in the halls of power and positively influencing decisions that affect millions of Californians.

Two billion people heard about our mission of unconditional love after the close of A Seat at the Table auction with Warren Buffett and Stephen & Ayesha Curry.

We chose our four favorites (of the 873 stories) for you to check out here: the Associated Press, Reuters, the New York Post, and People. Beyond the buzz about the Auction, we raised an astonishing $27 million to support GLIDE and the Eat. Learn. Play. Foundation; an historic investment in a brighter future for communities on both sides of the Bay!

If you missed seeing the action live, be sure to check out the photo album from our Auction Watch Party, and the livestreamed video recording. Scroll to 40 minutes and 48 seconds on the full video or watch the highlight reel if you want to catch Stephen Curry’s cameo with Warren Buffett!

Highlight Reel Full Event Video

GLIDE and our partners at Eat. Learn. Play. are vital lifelines for children and families in San Francisco and Oakland. $27 million is a major milestone—but not the finish line. As cuts from the “Big Ugly Bill” take effect, this remarkable sum still can’t fully replace what families are losing in food, healthcare, and housing.

That’s why it’s so important we use this money that Warren Buffett, Stephen Curry, and Ayesha Curry helped us raise to make a real impact. Our team is mapping the most strategic way to deploy these funds and get them working in the community quickly and effectively. We’ll keep you updated as plans unfold.

Your support makes GLIDE possible. In a time when so many institutions feel like they are crumbling, GLIDE is on the rise. Please keep on supporting us.

In solidarity,

Your friends at GLIDE

Dear GLIDE Community,

My heart breaks at the horrific news of the violence directed at the Muslim community in San Diego. Three innocent lives were taken in a hate-fueled attack. On behalf of Glide Memorial Church, the GLIDE Foundation, and the greater GLIDE community, we condemn this violence unequivocally.

Houses of worship are sacred—places of refuge, healing, prayer, and belonging for people of faith across all traditions. An attack on any one of these sanctuaries is an attack on all of us. Violence intended to sow fear and division has no place in our communities. We stand firmly with our Muslim sisters and brothers in solidarity and prayer.

We also honor the security guard who gave his life protecting 140 children nearby—a father of eight whose loss will be felt for generations.

In moments like these, we are called not to retreat into fear but to lean more deeply into love. We stand united with faith communities everywhere, renewing our commitment to build a world rooted in dignity, safety, and radical inclusion for all people. We will always choose love over hate, and connection over division. This country needs a love agenda!

Our hearts are with the Muslim community in San Diego and beyond. We stand with you, for you, and by you, and we hold you in our deepest prayers.

With love,

GLIDE President & CEO
Dr. Gina Fromer

At just 18 years old, Shuantavia has already navigated more than most—crossing states, facing family rejection, and rebuilding her life from the ground up.

Today, she’s doing that rebuilding with the support of GLIDE’s Transitional Age Youth (TAY) services, where compassion meets real, tangible help.

“I’m originally from Atlanta, Georgia,” Shuantavia says. “But I needed to some research to find the support I needed.”

That research ultimately led her to GLIDE.

Her journey to GLIDE began with a simple recommendation at a youth shelter.

“They told me, ‘There’s this place open 24 hours—it’s called GLIDE TAY Center. And I came. I was so grateful it was open. That meant everything.”

“As a trans woman, there were things I needed for my transition that Indiana couldn’t provide,” she explains. “So I made the decision to come out here. When I got here, I was struggling—no housing, no job. I was just trying to survive.”

From the moment she walked through the doors, she found more than just services—she found people who showed up for her. “They gave me clothes, helped me with therapy, and connected me to shelter,” she says. “That support—it really mattered.”

Today, Shuantavia is currently working with case managers and taking meaningful steps toward independence. “I love TAY, ” she says. “They offer food, support… and they really listen. When I say something, they try to find solutions—and they act on it.”

She speaks especially warmly about the staff who have helped guide her. “Cheyenne and Miss Toni—they’ve been amazing. They’re there emotionally, helping me through the process of getting housing. I’m very grateful for them.”

That support is already translating into forward momentum. On the very day of this interview, Shuantavia landed a new job.

“I just started today,” she says, beaming. “I’m giving out government phones—and I got the job on the spot.” Her goals are clear and grounded.

“My next steps are to get permanent housing, get some furniture, and just establish a place for myself.”

ACCESS to the TAY Services Makes the Difference

In 2026, Transitional Age Youth (TAY)—generally ages 18–27—navigating foster care face significant instability, with 22–30% experiencing homelessness after aging out and only half employed by age 24. Roughly 56% of youth aged 14–21 exit foster care without finding permanent family connections.

Key 2026 data indicates a high need for supportive services, with 57% of TAY reporting serious mental health disorders.

What stands out most in Shuantavia’s story is not just her resilience—but how critical access to the right support has been.

“San Francisco stood out to me because the resources are easy to access—they’re in your face,” she says. “People help you find what you need. Nothing’s really hidden.”

For other trans youth who may be struggling or unsure where to turn, her message is simple—and powerful:

“TAY can help you with referral services, putting you in touch with clinics. In my case, that meant getting the hormones I needed for my transition. TAY has been a huge help with my life,” she says. “They have so many resources. Just let them help you… that’s what I’ve been doing, and I’m loving it.”

At GLIDE’s TAY Center, that spirit of care goes beyond basic needs. It’s about building community and restoring joy. “We have fun here,” she adds, laughing. “Trivia nights, movie nights, karaoke… it’s not just services—it’s a place where you can feel good, too.”

She also speaks candidly about areas for improvement—like the challenge of enforcing “no sleeping” rules in a space where many arrive exhausted and without shelter. But even in raising concerns, her perspective reflects something deeper: trust.

“I can voice my concerns and be heard,” she says. “And I’ve seen things change because of it. I appreciate that.”

In the end, Shuantavia’s story is a reminder of what’s possible when young people are met with dignity, resources, and genuine care at a critical moment in their lives.

“GLIDE is amazing,” she says simply. “They’re very helpful. And they help you figure out what’s next.”

Author: communications

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