While on vacation, I tuned into CNN International and heard the news of the passing of TV legend Phil Donahue. Phil was—please note this word—a pioneering ally for the LGBTQ+ community, and he deserves to be remembered for it. Following his passing, LGBTQ+ organizations and mainstream media, in their obituaries, referenced this significant moment:
“In 1974, before his show reached a nationwide audience, Donahue interviewed the Segal family of Philadelphia (whose gay son Mark Segal became the publisher of Philadelphia Gay News), the first time a family with a gay member was interviewed on broadcast television.”
But that was not my first time on “The Phil Donahue Show,” and this example alone does not fully capture the immense appreciation we owe him for our visibility today.
You’ll often find me on the speaking stage, sharing my personal role in our history. A crucial part of that history was making us visible on TV. Back in the 1970s, there were zero out LGBTQ+ people on television—not in front of or behind the camera. The nation didn’t see us as individuals; in the media of that day, we simply did not exist. Even on talk shows like Donahue’s, it wasn’t considered “polite” to discuss people like us. But thanks to Phil Donahue, that changed, and I can tell you exactly when it happened.
My battle for our visibility led me to disrupt live TV broadcasts. The most notable incident was my disruption of the CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite in 1973. Millions saw it live, and it made headlines in nearly every newspaper in America the following morning. A few days later, I was surprised to receive a call from Phil Donahue, asking if I’d come on his show to discuss why I had disrupted Cronkite and to talk about the LGBTQ+ community. To be clear, this was the top-rated nationally syndicated show, airing during the day—not late at night when no one was watching. By inviting me, Phil broke the unspoken rule about LGBTQ+ discussions on TV and opened the door for future talk shows, both nationally and locally.
Phil knew exactly what he was doing. He saw the importance of the moment. Before the taping, he discussed with me the anger I would face from his audience, which was largely made up of Bible Belt viewers. But he said it would be good TV and, as he put it, “the start of a dialogue that could start a change.” When he said that, I knew I had found an ally in the fight for visibility.
After that show, other talk shows began to open their doors to discussions of LGBTQ+ issues. That, my friends, was a sea change for our rights, and we owe that to Phil.
When I look back at the first of my three appearances on “The Phil Donahue Show,” it amazes me to recall what we would now call hate speech directed at me by his audience. Phil was also criticized for having a “known homosexual” on his show. But that didn’t stop him from continuing to bring on LGBTQ+ guests to discuss the vast array of issues facing our community, and he personally spoke out for our rights.
Phil showed America that we were human. He paved the way for shows like “Ellen,” “Will & Grace,” and even organizations like GLAAD. So when you see an LGBTQ+ character in your favorite sitcom or drama, or see an openly LGBTQ+ newscaster, please take a moment to thank Phil Donohue and his work to make us visible.