LGBTQ+ athletes struggle to find money in U.S. political climate

Conor McDermott-Mostowy would like to participate in the Winter Olympic Games in Milan Cortina. And he certainly has the talent, desire and ambition to do it.

What he lacks is money.

“You could definitely hit six figures,” David McFarland, McDermott-Mostowy’s agent, said of what the speed skater needs each year to live and train while pursuing his Olympic dream.

Over the past year, finding that money has been increasingly difficult because McDermott-Mostowy is gay. Since President Trump returned to the White House in January, bringing with him an agenda hostile to diversity, equity, and inclusion, sponsors that once supported LGBTQ+ athletes and initiatives have turned away from those like McDermott-Mostowy, to devastating effect.

“There’s definitely been a noticeable shift,” said McFarland, who has represented heterosexual and gay athletes in many sports for decades, from the NFL and NBA to professional football. “Many brands and speaking opportunities that previously highlighted LGBTQ athletes are now being removed or disappearing altogether. »

“And these are not just symbolic partnerships,” he added. “These are vital income opportunities that help athletes finance their training, competitions and livelihoods. »

The impact is felt across a wide range of sports where sponsor money is often the difference between winning and not being able to compete. But it is particularly acute in individual sports where athletes are the brand and its unique characteristics – its size, appearance, achievements and even gender preferences – become elements that attract or repel fans and backers.

“What’s most frustrating is that these decisions are rarely about performance,” McFarland said. “It’s about perceptions within the LGBTQ community. And this kind of fear-driven pushback harms everyone involved because, beyond the human costs, it’s also very short-sighted. The LGBTQ community and its allies represent a multi-billion dollar global market with immense purchasing power.”

Travis Shumake, the only openly gay driver on the NHRA circuit, has run a career-high five events in 2022 and said he already has deals with major brands such as Mission Foods, Procter & Gamble and Kroger while using a rainbow parachute to slow his dragster.

Kroger is the only one whose support has yet to wane, and as a result, Shumake had to keep his car in his trailer for the last eight months of the year.

And when he ran, his parachute was black.

Travis Shumake competes in the NHRA Nationals at Las Vegas Motor Speedway in November 2024.

(Marc Sánchez/Icon Sportswire via Getty Images)

“It seemed very optimistic and bright,” said Shumake, who spends about $60,000 for an engine and up to $25,000 for each run on the drag strip. “Being the only LGBTQ driver would have been very profitable. I finished last season intending to do six to eight races. There were big conversations happening with some very big companies. And now I’ve done one race, entirely based on funding.”

“When you’re asking for a check for $100,000,” he added, “it’s very difficult for these brands to take that risk over a weekend when there could be a significant backlash because of my gender identity.”

A sponsorship executive for a Fortune 500 company that previously supported Shumake said he was not authorized to discuss the decision to end his relationship with the driver.

Daniel T. Durbin, director of the Institute for Sports, Media and Society at the USC Annenberg School, said there could be several reasons for this. The decline of the economy, for example, has tightened sponsorship budgets. But there is no doubt that the message from the White House had a deterrent effect.

“It certainly makes the atmosphere around this issue more difficult, because advertising and promotion related to social change has been criticized by the Trump administration,” Durbin said.

Furthermore, corporate sponsors who once rallied around diversity, whether out of conviction or convenience, saw the election results in part as a rejection of that idea.

“We risk pissing off 50% of the population if we go this route. Do we really want to do that with our brand?” Durbin talked about the conversations businesses are having.

Moving away from causes like LGBTQ+ rights doesn’t necessarily mean that these companies were once progressive and are now hypocritical. For many, the only color of the rainbow that interests them is green.

“You’re trying to give a philosophy to people who don’t have one,” Durbin said. “And even if they believe in causes, they’re not going to self-destruct their business by joining a cause they believe in.” They will take it in part because they think it is positive for the bottom line.

“That’s how it works.”

As a result, others have had to step in to try to fill the funding gap. The Out Athlete Fund, a 501(c)(3) organization, was recently established to provide financial assistance and other support to LGBTQ+ athletes. McDermott-Mostowy was the first to receive a check, after a November event in West Hollywood raised more than $15,000.

“We’re here to help cover their costs because a lot of other people don’t,” said Cyd Zeigler, a founding board member of the group and co-founder of OutSports, a sports news site focused on LGBTQ+ issues.

This type of layoffs, ranging from deep-pocketed sponsors to individuals donating their spare change, threatens to derail the careers of athletes such as McDermott-Mostowy, who relies on her family and a modest stipend from the U.S. Olympic and Paralympic Committee for most of her living and training expenses. And as he turns 27 before the Milan Cortina Olympics open in February, he may not be able to wait for the pendulum to swing back for another chance at becoming an Olympian.

“I am 99% sure that I qualify for [food] “What really saves us every year is when we travel. Almost all of our expenses are paid upon arrival [with] the team.

“If I didn’t make it to the World Cup one year, I would be ruined.”

McDermott-Mostowy’s past successes and Olympic potential are what he presents to sponsors, not that he is gay. But that’s what sets him apart; If he qualifies for Milano Cortina, he will be one of the few gay athletes on Team USA.

“I’ve always been very open about my sexuality, so it wasn’t really a debate,” he said.

“My agent definitely told me that, behind closed doors, a lot of people say, ‘Oh, we’d like to support queer athletes. But it’s just not the right time to have that as a public face.”

The debate is not new, although it has evolved over the years. Figure skater Amber Glenn, who last year became the first queer woman to win the U.S. championship, remembers gender preferences being a big topic of discussion ahead of the 2014 Games in Russia, where public support for LGBTQ+ expression is banned.

“At that point, I wasn’t away, but I was thinking, ‘What would I do? What would I say?'” Glenn said. “In the future, I hope we can get to the point where people can compete as they are and not have to worry about anything.

“Figure skating is unique. We have more acceptance and a bigger community in the queer space. That’s not the case for all sports. We’re definitely making progress, but we still have a long way to go.”

Conor McDermott-Mostowy hopes to represent the United States in speed skating at the Milan Cortina Olympics in February.

(Dean Mouhtaropoulos/Getty Images)

In the meantime, athletes like McDermott-Mostowy and Shumake may need to find ways to re-introduce themselves to find new sources of support.

“It’s not like I’m going back into the closet,” said Shumake, who decided to rent his dragster to straight drivers next year rather than leave it parked and risk bankruptcy. “It’s just that maybe it’s not the main storyline at the moment. I’m trying different ways of telling the story, changing the name.”

“It’s weird to watch,” added Shumake, who once billed himself as the fastest gay man on the planet. “I know it’s going to come back. I’m also worried about whether I made the right choices when I had a partnership with Grindr and had rainbow parachutes? Did I become too strong?”

“I chose to go the gay racing driver route and it’s just a little bit of a downturn. I don’t think I have to blame myself. It’s just a fear that people have right now.”

A fear that proves costly for athletes who can least afford to pay.