BY CHARLI BATTERSBY | I felt pretty smug as I approached City Hall on the late afternoon of June 9, 2025. I had RSVP’d for a Pride Month event with the City Council Speaker and members of the Council LGBTQIA+ Caucus.

Several tourists were peeking through the fence, trying to get a pic of City Hall. The gate was ajar, but the tourists weren’t confident enough to walk in and take their selfie. Me, I swaggered on through the gate, nodded at the Police Officer without breaking my stride, noting, “I’m here for the Pride event.” They didn’t even ask for my ID (no doubt they noticed the City of New York Reserve Press Card worn around my neck). Then I reached the second line of security and the steel boning in my corset set off the metal detector. 

Usually, I can just explain that I don’t have a “shank” in my bra–there are flat, slim strips of metal sewn into the corset. Guards typically take my word for it. I don’t think ISIS even accepts job applications from people like me. But the Policewoman at City Hall wasn’t some security guard at a cosplay convention. She was rightfully looking out for terrorists who might have a suicide vest rigged to blow up the checkpoint. The Policewoman asked an older Officer about my corset, then apologized to me. She’s young. Apparently I’m her first corset bomber. The other Officer waved an electronic wand over my steel bones and declared me unarmed.

I had been to City Hall a few times before. A rally for the Screen Actors Guild during the SAG strike back in 2023. Our union cards were enough to get us through security without hassle, and we were quickly ushered into the City Council Chambers for photo ops with Council Members who wanted to hobnob with movie stars. I had also attended a public tour of the building, during which a polite docent explained every detail of the life-sized bronze sculpture of George Washington. (He’s missing a button on his jacket–a reminder that Washington is just a man, not a god or a king.)

At the City Council’s June 9 Pride event, I was feeling comfortable inside City Hall. I knew the colonial symbolism of the thirteen steps leading up to the front entrance. I knew there was a hidden apartment at the top of the dome where the city’s Design Commission works. It used to be an apartment for the custodian back in the 19th century. The East side of the building is for the City Council, and the Public Advocate gets to sit in a giant wooden chair that has a round back with a star in the center (like Captain America’s shield).

There is a sad little office where the Council Minority Leader (Joann Ariola, District 32, Queens) sits, managing the affairs of the handful of Republicans on the Council. It looks like a breakroom for interns; every time I visit, I’m tempted to step inside and help myself to a cup of coffee. But, no. I was on good behavior. I have been told I might be the first openly transgender reporter to be in the press pool for City Hall events. (No one runs chromosome tests on all the reporters, or demands proof of gender identity, so it’s hard to verify who’s the first openly trans anything these days.)

So, I resisted my puckish rogue instincts. I didn’t steal coffee from the Republicans. I didn’t sit in the Captain America Throne. No selfie of me kissing the statue of Nathan Hale out front. 

On my way into the Council Chambers, I passed by the Ladies‘ Room in the rotunda. The sign reading “Ladies” had been covered over by a piece of paper with “Gender Neutral” printed on it. It was a paper-thin gesture of inclusivity–and I don’t doubt that the “Gender Neutral” sign was taken down following the Pride event.

A couple of men followed me into the Gender Neutral Room. As a transwoman, I didn’t like the idea of a couple of big hairy dudes in the Ladies‘ Room. All three of us would have been arrested for walking in there twenty years ago. I found myself wondering how the Council Minority Leader feels about men using the Ladies‘ Room a few feet away from her office.

Dozens of Council Members waited in the main chamber for an awards ceremony. Certificates were handed out to LGBTQ achievers. Celebrity guest Lorna Luft performed a rousing rendition of New York, New York. Good time had by all.

Several openly gay Council Members spoke, including District 3’s (aka Chelsea’s) Erik Bottcher. “There are people and institutions who want us to be ashamed of who we are, who we love,”  he said. “They want us to be ashamed of what we were born as. And we’ve been told, many of us as early as we can remember, that we should be ashamed of who we are. The opposite of shame is pride.”

The Council Member disavowed a popular perception of New York City as “a total sanctuary from hate.” Unfortunately, he noted, “That’s not true. We’re fighting that battle…We see it day after day. The good news is that we have champions at the highest level of government.” 

Next up at the podium was Council Speaker Adrienne E. Adams, who invoked Stonewall-era trans rights pioneers Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera, saying, “Their fight was not just for tolerance, but for inclusion.It was a fight for the right to live authentically, to love without fear, and to be given the same liberties as everyone else. It is this legacy that we honor today–and it is this vision that continues to guide us all.”

Tiffany Caban of District 22, Queens, also spoke. “To be queer or trans in 2025 and to show up at all is itself resistance,” Caban said, making me feel like I was quite the rebel just for showing up and sitting there with my hands neatly folded in my lap.

A few weeks later, my Press Card allowed me access to 1 Police Plaza for a July 1 Mayoral public safety-related announcement.  This was only days after Iran had threatened to unleash their “Sleeper Cells” in retaliation for America bombing their nuclear facilities. Fortunately, my corset didn’t set off the metal detector this time around. The equipment at 1PP must have been recalibrated to distinguish between suicide vests and vintage lingerie.

I sat politely through the press conference. Mayor Eric Adams referred to “…an ocean liner of crime that we had to turn around, and it doesn’t turn around instantly.” According to the numbers, it had mostly turned around; the crime statistics for June were down compared to recent years. And the Midtown mass shooting was still a month away.

New York City Police Department (NYPD) Commissioner Jessica S. Tisch spoke about the general decline in crime, saying, “You would have to go back to 2010 to find a six-month stretch this safe in the New York City subway system, including the pandemic years when ridership was at historic lows.” But the graphs indicated a conspicuous increase for rape. Commissioner Tisch explained, “Rape was the one index crime that rose up by 21 percent through June.” The increase, she noted, “is in large part due to a change in [New York] State law that took effect in September of 2024, which expanded the legal definition of rape to better reflect the full range of these crimes. Because of that change, we expect to have a clearer year-over-year comparison starting this fall.”

Another reporter seated in the front row began asking questions about the Democratic Primary. This was July 1, and my colleagues were still processing the clear victory of candidate Zohran Mamdani. Hizzoner was peppered by fastballs about rent freezes, housing affordability, and ICE arrests. I raised my hand, hoping to ask an on-topic question about the shooting that had occurred near the Stonewall Inn after June 29’s NYC Pride March. But we’d run out of time.

On my way out, I snapped a selfie with the “Press Conference In Session” sign. This was just puckish enough to draw a few suspicious glances from a couple of Police Officers. Then I made a break for it, before I could be found Loitering With Shennanigarious Intent.

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