Why I’m leaving congressional journalism.

jael holzman
8 min readJun 1, 2024

When they ask me why I quit my job as a congressional reporter, I will always bring up the Madison Cawthorn incident.

In 2022, I was a reporter for E&E News when its parent company POLITICO published what appeared to be juicy pictures of former congressman Madison Cawthorn wearing “women’s lingerie.”

It was perhaps possible to rationalize a hard news outlet running these photos at the time. Cawthorn had recently gone viral online for claiming other lawmakers go to orgies. Maybe lingerie could be a hint at the lawmaker attending sex parties himself. There was also an air of hypocrisy; the story positioned the photos as somehow in conflict with his upbringing as a Christian, and included past quotes about him doing “push-ups.”

But I still remember reading the story for the first time and landing on this conspicuous note:

“POLITICO could not independently verify the photos, which are screenshots of original images.” The note also said the date the photos were taken was “unclear.”

Almost immediately afterwards, Cawthorn told the world the pictures were from before his time in Congress, and part of a party game on a cruise. Not an “orgy.”

It was what I’ve come to describe as a “Madison Cawthorn incident” — a media story that teases at something salacious and newsworthy but ultimately misses the mark… and winds up fanning the flames of homophobia and transphobia based off of bunk info.

Two years later, it was another Madison Cawthorn incident that led me to plot my retirement from congressional journalism.

On March 6, I sat at my desk in the House press gallery like I had always done, clicking refresh on the website formerly known as Twitter, when the following popped up on my screen:

“Not a lot of sex parties/earmarks overlap AND YET”

What this referred to was reporting that Pennsylvania senators Bob Casey and John Fetterman requested to cut $1 million in federal funding to William Way, the largest LGBTQ+ community center in Philadelphia. They did so after, as one news article put it, “a conservative social media account … accused the center of hosting sex parties.”

Like the Cawthorn story, many articles on this topic didn’t really explain the content of whatever was being alleged against the community center. Some news articles failed to say whether they asked the center if the claims were true. Nor did any of them explore much about the social media personality, LibsOfTikTok, who had first levied the allegations. LibsOfTikTok — real name Chaya Raichik — is most famous for demonizing LGBTQ+ people, lifestyles and events online, and has been accused of knowingly spreading false information, even by conservatives. She once defended herself from that claim by saying that there’s no law against lying.

As it turned out, there was no sex at the event, per one of its founders. In fact, the event’s “no sex” rule was on one of the slides LibsOfTikTok posted to make the claim. Here’s the part of the slide I’m talking about:

It was actually an event promoting sexual health and education for those with alternative preferences, like “kink.” As in, sex ed. Not sex.

That day, I left my workplace in a blur because, well, people I consider peers and great coworkers wrote some of those stories. I still can’t believe this happened, but I called my boss and I wept and said I’d give anything in the world to never go back to Congress again. For the previous three years of my life, I had been the only out trans reporter any of these folks had worked alongside of on the Hill. And it seemed my presence had no impact on preventing these incidents from occurring.

My first days working in the Capitol complex were the week of Donald Trump’s inauguration. I wore my congressional press pass to my college graduation. Leaving college I had fallen in love with the works of so many wonky writers and conversational podcasts. I got lucky with a reporting gig at CQ Roll Call, what is usually a launchpad for a career in political and policy journalism.

Then in 2020, when the world shut down from COVID-19, I began medically transitioning. I had joined the press corps as a man, only to come out as a trans woman in 2021.

After much deliberation, I stayed in my profession.

Wasn’t going to stop anyone from letting me continue reporting in Congress! It was a challenge some days, but I went on to break big stories, and launched a newsletter, and talked to some of the nation’s most powerful at events all over DC, and went on C-SPAN. I built a name for myself as an honest, unvarnished reporter; my expertise has been covering the politics of climate change and our nation’s struggle to decarbonize. There is no story more important to me.

All the while, there I was, this trans lady sitting in the background of the biggest political scenes, watching press conferences, popping up in walk-and-talks and file photos.

Silently trailblazing. I was proud of it.

By the way, for what it’s worth, I experienced no bigotry, discrimination or mean-spirited expression from any lawmakers, their staffs, or other non-media professionals working in Congress. Period. Some of my best work friends were Republicans; others were Democrats. Some lawmakers congratulated me on my transition, and a few Republicans even held the door open for me. And I think it’s because I have always believed good, impactful journalism should be seen as fair to everyone in a story. If anyone made a snide remark behind my back, I don’t know and don’t care. All I hope is they think I was fair.

I also have many friends in the press corps who I love dearly. People I’d take a bullet for, easy. Last night, I wept again, over drinks with my closest colleagues at the news outlet I’m leaving Axios, because it felt like I was leaving too soon.

But I had to leave. Because after that last Madison Cawthorn incident, I can’t go back to the Hill without crippling anxiety and panic attacks.

I know the reason it upsets me so much: people in D.C. will write about alleged sex parties but won’t write anything on the people trying to take away my healthcare. It would be a profound mistake to think the reason I’m leaving is because I was offended by news coverage. No, this is about the cognitive dissonance of working around people who should be asking decision-makers about the tug-of-war over trans people, and know it, but aren’t doing so.

Let’s take a critical example: last year, House lawmakers included language in that chamber’s government funding bills that would ban all kinds of government-backed healthcare insurance from covering sex- and gender-affirming care.

Very few news outlets wrote much about it and those that did barely followed up. This language sparked horror in my community among those who learned of it, but even many trans people were unaware until I brought it up to them in personal conversations. Federal healthcare coverage bans can impact whether private insurers will also cover medications and procedures. Imagine an entire class of people losing access to healthcare without any warning, and you’ll know why I’m worried about the future. Expect this to come back again should Republicans win big in the fall.

On that actually, lets go one step beyond — have we even seen much reporting on what a Trump victory would mean on trans healthcare? Or a red wave in Congress?

As an aside: do you know what happens if healthcare coverage for hormone medication goes away for those of us who can’t produce such chemicals naturally? I’m one of those people and I’m over here worried about going into menopause when I’m 30. Which is cool.

Anyway, my sense after many conversations with members of the press corps is this: reporters do not want to do a bad job at covering this topic. They know the stakes well enough and they do care. But they’re afraid to cover it out of fear that it’ll offend readers — like trans people angry over word choices, or activists to the social inclusion of trans rights.

Except it’s not the job of journalists to go out of their way to not offend people, and there’s already an existing blueprint for how to write about science made controversial by politicians: climate journalism.

It used to be acceptable — nay, required — for reporters to quote climate change deniers in the regular course of covering the politics around decarbonization. Over time, we in the press decided we should not give equal weight to climate denial.

In 2013, the letters editor for the Los Angeles Times cited the scientific consensus to say they’d never publish climate denial in that section again. Well, what if I told that the percentage of the scientific community that agrees on manmade climate change is roughly equal to that of the trans population who report good outcomes in their transition?

I believe a similar reckoning is necessary around trans healthcare — with misinformation, disinformation and denialism, not a lack of sensitivity.

None of these journalistic mistakes would happen if more news outlets deliberately assigned beat reporters to cover the fate of LGBTQ+ lives and hired from within the community specifically, and also with an eye for expertise in covering healthcare. Strong beat reporters can develop the sourcing needed to know when they’re missing something. And even transition stuff labeled “culture war” like using the correct pronouns have a very clear medical necessity.

I also think reporters in Congress should be following anti-trans bills through committee and asking policymakers what they want to accomplish here. That is happening in statehouses gutted by the decline of local news, but not in the U.S. Capitol building. Reporters should be explaining where this movement comes from and who is funding it. And they should explain how anti-trans laws and court rulings will impact the vast majority of people who don’t need sex changes. Because they will.

All reporters and editors should know also about the Trans Journalists Association and its vast cornucopia of training materials. If you don’t know something, you can look it up. TJA will gladly help you through this maze.

Anyway, in the background, I tried my best. I continue to hold out hope that one day, an intrepid reporter will pick up the mantle of asking members of Congress what happens to the trans people.

As for me, I’m staying in climate journalism. The stakes are too dire and the work is way too much fun. But I’m done with the horserace and the Hill.

So long and thanks for all the fish.

XOXO,

Jael Holzman

--

--