LGBTQ Times

Are You a Friend of Dorothy?

It’s an old phrase, but one that holds great historical significance in the United States, both for the military and the LGBTQ+ community. For the queer community, it was a code phrase, a way to safely identify like-minded individuals. Much like a challenge and response, such as saying “Thunder” and hoping the answer is “Flash.”

So why is this such an important piece of history?

Simple. Because history is doomed to repeat itself until we’re capable of learning from it.

From World War II through the 1980s, this term served as a safe way for queer individuals to find community. It was widely known among LGBTQ+ circles and could be used anywhere in the country. The premise was simple: if you saw someone you thought might be “family”, you’d ask, “Are you a friend of Dorothy?” If they responded with confusion “Who?” then you had your answer. But if they said, “Yes, I’m a friend of Dorothy,” then you’d found a safe person.

During this era, the U.S. government was heavily invested in rooting out what they referred to as “sexual deviants.” This was part of the lesser-known Lavender Scare of the 1950s and ’60s, a parallel to the more infamous Red Scare. Military “intelligence” began to notice that many of the people they suspected of being homosexual were using the “Dorothy” phrase.

So, they did what the U.S. government often does best: overthink and overreact.

An internal investigation was launched to locate this mysterious “Dorothy.” Military intelligence theorized wildly:

1. She was a central figure in a widespread underground homosexual network.

2. Possibly a ringleader or recruiter responsible for connecting gay service members across bases and regions.

3. A spy attempting to weaken the United States military from within.

There are actual records, sparse and heavily redacted, showing that military officials began asking questions like:

“Who is Dorothy?”

“Where does Dorothy live?”

“Is she harboring these individuals?”

“Is she part of an organization?”

Of course, Dorothy wasn’t a real person. The phrase came from The Wizard of Oz, as in Dorothy Gale, you know? The girl with the ruby slippers and the Cairn Terrier Toto!. This absurd investigation has become a symbol—of how clueless the government can be when attempting to suppress what it doesn’t understand. But also, of the resilience and cleverness of queer people. We find ways to survive hostile environments, to stay true to ourselves, and to build community, even in the face of danger.

Perhaps most tragically, it’s also a symbol of how dangerous it once was, and still can be, to simply exist as a gay person in uniform.

So why am I writing about this? What good does it do to revisit such an old story?

Because we are once again facing widespread discrimination and bigotry in our country. Much like the Lavender Scare, we are now living through what I call the “Pastel Scare” with transgender people under direct attack.

One in four transgender students have attempted suicide in the past year. The Trevor Project’s 2024 National Survey on LGBTQ+ Youth found that 46% of transgender and nonbinary youth seriously considered suicide in the past year.

When rights, protections, healthcare, and hope for a safe future are stripped away, it’s not hard to understand why.

Here’s a personal example.

I’ve been in the U.S. Navy for the past 11 years. I officially came out as transgender in 2023 and began hormone replacement therapy (HRT). I was 30 years old, and terrified. I struggle with gender dysphoria and body dysmorphia. I’ve had thoughts of ending my life before, but it was on December 31st, 2024, that I made an attempt, one that my chain of command could not ignore.

I had been told I was paranoid—that Donald Trump wouldn’t discharge active duty transgender service members. But during my second round of inpatient care, I was proven right.

Today, August 1st, 2025, is my first day out of any mental health program. I “graduated” from grippy sock jail. Three facilities, one of which I attended twice for the longest stretch of my life. Eight months in total, five in inpatient and three in a partial hospitalization program.

I came back to “work” only to be handed paperwork. I’m now officially on administrative absence. My command has told me that my discharge date from the U.S. Navy is expected to be September 1st, 2025.

That’s one month.

One month to handle all the medical paperwork.

One month to uproot my family.

One month to figure out what I’m going to do with my life.

I’ve already begun paying for my HRT out of pocket. But it’s not just me I’m worried about. I have four children. My oldest son, Jerry Linderman, is currently in the hospital, diagnosed with severe aplastic anemia. He’s been braver than I ever could be. He hasn’t let it slow him down. He just underwent a bone marrow transplant,and came out with a smile and a story! But he won’t be discharged until November—two months after the Navy is done with me.

These are the things the government, the military, and the institutions don’t think about, don’t talk about, don’t consider, don’t care about. They play with human lives like they’re just another check in a box, and anyone who has served before can tell you, that is all any of us really are to them.

I have transgender and nonbinary friends who are barely surviving the removal of the protections we once had. Many have been ostracized. Some don’t have the support system I’ve been lucky enough to find.

And when we are isolated, when we are told we’re “degenerates,” “freaks,” and “threats,” those dark thoughts begin to whisper louder. Depression is a bitch, and when it gets you alone, it takes control.

The military loves its “22 a day” mantra, based on a 2012 report from the Department of Veterans Affairs that stated 22 veterans take their own lives daily.

So I can’t help but wonder:

“How many good soldiers, Marines, airmen, and sailors will we lose each day now that transgender Americans aren’t considered ‘good enough’ to serve and will be and be added to those veterans?”

As I’ve said before, this is a safe space. Always remember: you are not alone. You are seen. You are heard. You are loved.

And if you ever doubt that…

Always remember: the Friends of Dorothy have your back.