On the evening of November 5, 2024, as polling sites closed and results began trickling in for local Kentucky races, Emma Curtis, a then 28-year-old Lexington resident, anxiously awaited news of her bid for the Lexington-Fayette Urban County Council, District 4 seat. Curtis, one of over a dozen LGBTQ+ candidates on the ballot in different races that year, received a text message from her best friend that read, “Congratulations councilwoman,” moments before her campaign team could confirm the results.

“She beat us to it by about a minute,” said Curtis about the 60-seconds between the message arriving and confirming the results with her team in disbelief.

Councilwoman Emma Curtis hugs Kentucky State Representative Anne Donworth after winning her race on election night. Photo Credit: Karrie Bickett

Election night, Emma Curtis hugs State Representative Anne Donworth after finding out the results. Photo Credit: Karrie Bickett

After months of campaigning, on the evening of Election Day, Curtis became the first transgender person to be elected to a city council seat in Kentucky. The historical moment also made her the second transgender person to hold public office in the state. The first was Rebecca Blankenship, who was elected to the Berea Independent School District Board in November 2022.

As a trans advocate, Curtis has made significant strides in her first 67 days in office. Initially recognized locally for her work in the LGBTQ+ community, she now sees her role as much broader. “I am humanizing trans people,” Curtis states, reflecting on her impact. She believes her presence in office is normalizing trans leadership, as community members increasingly focus on local issues like potholes and clearer roads, seeking solutions from capable leaders regardless of their sexual or gender identity. Curtis calls it getting the job done and “a quiet form of activism.”

While fulfilling the duties her constituents elected her to do, she doesn’t forget what made District 4 feel like home. “I felt safe to be who I am,” Curtis said. Remembering that sentiment, she believes trans elected officials can do both; serve their constituents and protect LGBTQ+ rights.

“I will fight to make sure that Lexington continues to be a place where we welcome diversity as an asset,” Curtis said. Recently, she listened to her community’s request to keep the principles under diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives in place and was able to keep the diversity officer role in Fayette County. Despite the new Trump administration revoking DEI efforts nationwide.

Councilwoman Curtis addresses a crowd at the 2025 Fairness Rally. Photo credit: Kira Meador

Curtis’s election reflects a growing trend of LGBTQ+ representation in local government, something that once inspired her. On November 7, 2017 Curtis watched Senator Danica Roem, a transgender elected official, win her election in Virginia. The televised moment empowered Curtis to begin her transition.

“I had no excuse,” said Curtis about finding hope from Senator Roems win, at the same time the first Trump administration was underway.

Just like Senator Roem served as a source of inspiration for Curtis, she hopes her win will do the same for others. “I think that my experience is proof of the value in visibility,” Curtis said, hoping other trans youth will feel compelled to pursue elected office.

Senator Danica Roem and Councilwoman Emma Curtis at the LGBTQ+ Victory Institute. Photo credit: Victory Institute

“Right now trans Kentuckians, Queer Kentuckians, are not in the rooms where decisions are being made about our lives and our bodies,” acknowledged Curtis, about the current state of Kentucky and anti-trans bills on the agenda.

Despite the fear of these bills moving forward, Curtis still wants Queer youth to know, “if we continue to show up and do the work, we are eventually going to win.” In an Instagram post shared earlier this year on Curtis’s account, she looked back at a time she too felt unwelcomed in the Senate. The image from 2023 shows Curtis watching from the Gallery of the Kentucky State Capitol, as the Senate passed the Senate Bill 150, targeting LGBTQ+ youth, specifically trans youth.

Curtis recalls feeling “powerless” in that moment. The same post includes another image; Curtis this year entering the Senate Chambers with a smile on her face as a councilwoman. Part of the caption reading, “Keep showing up. Keep doing the work. Especially when it feels impossible.”

As Curtis becomes a household name for Kentuckians, many knowing her for the first time in her councilwoman role, she still describes herself as, “a big ole dork, who loves punk rock and loves Kentucky, and wants to leave this place better than I found it.”

Since originality is dead and redundancy is in—Kentucky has been quick to join the list of states mirroring the new, and legally questionable, Department of Governmental Efficiency or DOGE at the state level.

The proposed Kentucky Senate Bill 257 (SB 257) aims to establish the Office of Government Efficiency within the Auditor of Public Accounts, tasked with evaluating and recommending improvements to the efficiency, cost-effectiveness, and performance of state government agencies, programs, and operations.

Aiming to cut waste and be more efficient is good. I am annoyingly known to be very efficient with how much I have to talk, aiming for fewer words because I don’t love hearing my own voice. I also have had relationships struggle because of my incessant need to be efficient…like looking up the EXACT time to head to dinner based on traffic patterns– so far be it from me to criticize anyone wanting to work at efficiency. I am one of you.

But what the proposed Kentucky office, or KOGE as they wish to be called, doesn’t factor in are the possible inadvertent negative impacts on marginalized groups, including LGBTQ individuals and people of color.

As history has shown, when the costs start getting cut—stuff for people who are of the lesser regarded class, aka the others, are often first on the chopping block. Efficiency initiatives often lead to budget cuts or restructuring of programs deemed non-essential. Services specifically supporting marginalized communities, such as LGBTQ health programs or minority outreach initiatives, might be at risk if they are not prioritized, thereby reducing access to critical resources for these populations.

A primary focus on cost-cutting may also neglect to factor in the importance of equity. Yes equity, that word some people are now trying to paint as a negative when really it is anything but. A valid concern with KOGE is how it would handle programs and services designed to address systemic disparities which pose a risk of being undervalued if their benefits are not immediately quantifiable in economic terms, potentially exacerbating existing inequalities. Further, without explicit inclusion of diverse perspectives in the evaluation process, the unique needs of marginalized groups might be overlooked. This oversight can result in recommendations that do not account for the challenges faced by these communities, leading to policies that are not inclusive.

A more tangible fear I hold relates to an office I hold dear to my heart. As the former Executive Director of the Kentucky Commission on Human Rights, I value the mission and purpose of the agency. Past state budgets, not so much. And I know firsthand the importance of the work being done there to this day. When we can look to the federal model of DOGE that has used an approach that seems kind to call “control find” as its guiding practice, I fear what happens to an agency that’s main mission is to “safeguard all individuals within the state from discrimination.” When the federal version is closing buildings referencing the Civil Rights Movement or looking for things that use the word women, or Black, or queer and laying them out for more scrutiny—what happens with an agency tasked with protecting people who are discriminated against for being a woman, or Black, or queer? Does KOGE make it easier to fire or choose to not hire a queer or Black applicant? Even if that isn’t the intention, the chilling effect on the work of an agency can be pretty severe. On top of open discrimination, this can lead to increased unemployment among populations already facing employment challenges.

Kentucky rarely leads on things outside of bourbon, basketball, and horses. The desire to be one of the first states to emulate DOGE at the state level is befuddling. Why rush? State legislatures already have sweeping authority to monitor and provide oversight of the same things KOGE seeks to address. Does it have a cool name that gets a tweet, sorry X, from Elon Musk? Probably not, but the purpose can be carried out without endangering vital services to marginalized communities. But then again, isn’t it super-efficient to have multiple offices doing the same thing?