Lessons From Michigan's LGBTQ+ Trailblazers for a New Year

Lavender Graduation founder Ronni Sanlo, Ann Arbor trailblazer Kathy Kozachenko and four others on resilience, solidarity and hope

(from top left, clockwise): Carole Hoke, Johnny Jenkins, Kathy Kozachenko, André Wilson, Leslie Ann Norlin-Thompson, Ronni Santo. — (from top left, clockwise): Carole Hoke, Johnny Jenkins, Kathy Kozachenko, Ronni Santo, Leslie Ann Norlin-Thompson, André Wilson. Courtesy photos

Published: January 5, 2026 | Last Updated: January 5, 2026

Over the past year, our “Where Are They Now?” series has reconnected readers with some of Michigan’s most influential LGBTQ+ advocates — people who built the institutions, fought the battles and created the spaces that made it possible for today's queer community to live more openly and safely. These conversations reveal the practical wisdom of movement-building, including how to turn personal pain into policy change, when to push back and when to plant seeds and why solidarity matters more than individual heroism.

Here are some of the most powerful moments from six remarkable lives dedicated to LGBTQ+ liberation to take with you into 2026.

Ronni Sanlo: Turning Personal Pain Into Institutional Change

When Ronni Sanlo lost custody of her children in 1979 after coming out as a lesbian in Florida, she channeled that pain into creating one of the most enduring traditions in LGBTQ+ higher education: Lavender Graduation, a ceremony that recognizes the achievements of LGBTQ+ college graduates and acknowledges the unique experience of getting a degree while queer.

“After coming out as a lesbian in 1979, I lost custody of my children due to anti-LGBTQ+ bias in my home state of Florida, which fueled my passion to support LGBTQ+ students in ways I hadn't experienced myself,” Sanlo explained. She had noticed that LGBTQ+ students at the University of Michigan “often felt invisible and under-celebrated in their achievements compared to their peers.”

The first Lavender Graduation took place at Michigan in 1995. Nearly 30 years later, the ceremony has spread to campuses across the United States and internationally. Now 77 and splitting her time between Palm Springs, California, and Sequim, Washington, with her wife Kelly, Sanlo remains active as a consultant and keynote speaker.

Santo’s approach to storytelling reflects the philosophy that sustained her through decades of advocacy. “Storytelling for me is about authenticity. It's about sharing our stories so that our history lives on and so that others know they're not alone.”

Leslie Ann Norlin-Thompson: From Suicidal to Life-Saving

Leslie Ann Norlin-Thompson’s path to becoming Affirmations’ longest-serving executive director started in the darkest possible place — sitting in her car with the engine running, ready to end her life at age 25 because of the shame she felt about her first relationship with a woman. Her roommate came home unexpectedly in the middle of the workday, interrupting the suicide attempt and saving her life. Norlin-Thompson eventually found her way to Affirmations — the very organization she would later lead through a complete transformation.

“I believed it then and I still believe it to this day... Affirmations saved my life,” she told Pride Source.

When Norlin-Thompson became executive director in 1999, the organization was in crisis. “Attendance was down, all the staff had walked out in protest over some board action, there was no money in the bank and the building was a mess.” Within eight years, she had raised $5.3 million to build a new facility. The project attracted $250,000 donations each from Ford, GM and Chrysler — “the largest corporate contribution to an LGBTQ+ organization, anywhere, from a Fortune 500 company... let alone three of them.”

The building featured big windows facing Nine Mile Road in the heart of Ferndale. “We made a statement to the greater community and to ourselves — we don't need to hide anymore,” she said.

Now living in Asheville, North Carolina, with her wife Cindy, Norlin-Thompson remains engaged through volunteer work, including helping her community recover from Hurricane Helene.

André Wilson: The True Power of Solidarity

André Wilson at the Jan. 2017 Washington, D.C. protest march. Photo: Elaine Wilson

When André Wilson approached the Graduate Employees Organization at the University of Michigan in 2004 about eliminating trans exclusions from the health insurance plan, no national organizations were prioritizing this issue. Wilson became the lead negotiator, deliberately putting a transgender person at the forefront of all bargaining — not just the trans health care proposal. In 2005, the University of Michigan became one of the first institutions in America to cover gender-affirming care.

One of Wilson's favorite memories captures what that victory meant. During a March 2005 walkout, Wilson made picket signs supporting various equity issues, including one that read “I am a trans grad student.” Cisgender union members took every handmade sign he created, including signs reading “We are all trans in GEO.”

“I saw the woman with my ‘We are all trans in GEO’ sign and asked to take her photo. She just beamed into the camera. She said, ‘I never told you, but I wasn't on board about the trans health care proposal at first; this year really changed me.’ I still choke up when I look at that picture.”

A lesson Wilson took from that Bush-era fight remains relevant: “I learned the true power of solidarity. When we stop thinking that ‘the pie is small’ or if one minority group gets something there won't be enough for others, then we can succeed for everyone.”

Now living in the Pacific Northwest, Wilson tends a garden and gives away produce with one request: that recipients “pay it forward and stand up for transgender rights in whatever way they can, small or large.”

Carole Hoke: The Long Arc Requires Patience

For Carole Hoke, who started with a column for the Detroit Area Gay/Lesbian Council called "Over and Out" in the 1980s and went on to become United Church of Christ clergy in Peoria, Illinois, one question from a well-meaning parishioner crystallized everything about the pace of change.

“I had an ‘ally’ parishioner once ask me, ‘Why do people [LGBTQ+] want everything right now?’” Hoke recalled. “I tried my best to help her understand that what feels like ‘right now’ to her may be a lifetime or more for a person like me.”

Approaching their 80th birthday and celebrating 27 years with their spouse Lauren, Hoke has learned that unsuccessful advocacy attempts teach important lessons: “You are always planting seeds. Just because you think you have not had an influence on someone or a group, you may have impacted them more than you realize... Tell your story, let your story stand and maybe, just maybe, someone hearing your words will then share your story with others.”

When working on a Peoria city ordinance to include LGBTQ+ protections, gaining support from council members was difficult. But after several advocates spoke openly at a city council meeting, the ordinance passed. “What I learned from that is that one should never, ever give up.”

Hoke’s advocacy continues on — just in new ways. . “Even though my last physical march may have been the March on Washington in 2017, I still march with my words, beliefs and actions.”

Johnny Jenkins: Building Black Queer Community

Johnny Jenkins with Mychal Noir at Palmer Park. Courtesy photo

When Johnny Jenkins came out in 1992, he knew nothing about HIV and AIDS. "My coming out was an exhilarating yet terrifying experience of sexual and personal freedom, overshadowed by a dark reality," he recalled. “Despite the constant threat of death, I never considered going back into the closet.”

What saved him was finding community. “I found my tribe — Black same-gender-loving men. At the time, Men of Color's (MOC) Motivational Tuesdays was crucial to receiving lifesaving information and a network of same-gender-loving men.”

Jenkins went on to help build Black queer spaces in Detroit through his work with Affirmations and LGBT Detroit's Hotter Than July festival. One of his proudest achievements was the Homophobia in Detroit town hall at the Wright Museum, which raised the profile of Black LGBTQ+ issues among Detroit's Black religious leaders.

Now pursuing a Ph.D. in gender studies at Arizona State University, Jenkins draws on his Detroit roots when thinking about setbacks. “In all Black social movements, there has been a consistent moment of retrenchment after rights were achieved,” he said. “It's reasonable to expect the same with the advancement of LGBTQ+ rights and equality. We have to avoid complacency.”

Kathy Kozachenko: The First, But Not the Last

In 1974, when Kathy Kozachenko became the first openly lesbian candidate elected to any city council in the United States, she didn't set out to make history. She set out to represent the values of the Human Rights Party in Ann Arbor — structural change, redistribution of wealth and the elimination of gender roles.

“My campaign manager suggested I run as an open lesbian. I thought this was a great idea and the rest of the organization agreed,” Kozachenko explained. The response surprised her. On the University of Michigan campus, where activism was thriving, she encountered minimal homophobia while campaigning door-to-door. One student told her, “I'm a Christian, but I believe God works in mysterious ways and I'm voting for you.”

Kozachenko served two years before moving on — electoral politics was never meant to be her lifelong calling. “Holding office was one way, but not the only way, to work for social change and economic justice,” she told Pride Source.

Now living in Pittsburgh, where she’s been for over 40 years, Kozachenko has watched the current backlash with concern but not surprise. Her advice for young queer people draws on her lifetime of activism. “Hold on to hope,” she advised. “Remember that there are millions of us — queer folk as well as allies — working to defend our rights and our ability to live fully and openly. Be mindful of your physical safety and take care of your mental health. And most importantly, don't let the current situation paralyze and defeat you. Hold onto your joy.”