In his “day job,” DeeJay Johannessen focuses on preventing new HIV/AIDS infections and providing medical care for those already living with the virus. In his “spare time,” Johannessen focuses on promoting and protecting the civil rights of LGBTQ+ people
DAVID TAFFET | Senior Staff Writer
Taffet@DallasVoice.com
DeeJay Johannessen may be best known — at least, recently — as the guy who made his point by canceling Pride in Arlington and changing the direction of the city’s politics. For that and for his decades of activism for the LGBTQ+ and HIV/AIDS communities, Black Tie Dinner named him Kuchling Humanitarian Award Winner for 2026.
Johannessen is the CEO of HELP Center for LGBTQ+ Health in Arlington and Fort Worth, which serves more than 1,300 patients from more than 100 cities around Texas as well as patients from Oklahoma and Louisiana.
The early years
Raised in a Mormon military household, Johannessen said he was taught to speak out about his religious beliefs so he could go on missions to convert people to his faith. “If you don’t have the courage of your convictions, you don’t have convictions” — that is the lesson he learned and has used throughout his life.
When he was 22, Johannessen moved to Alaska to escape being around family and “let me be me.” There was a lot of struggle in being gay and being Mormon, he explained.
In Alaska, he became a community organizer and started a housing program with the Alaska AIDS Assistance Association. His involvement in HIV/AIDS that early in the AIDS epidemic was “about fighting for our loved ones, our family, our friends so they could live and die with dignity.”
There was backlash from neighbors who didn’t want people living with AIDS living in their neighborhood. But Johannessen persisted, because he knew that what he was doing was about having principles and knowing what was right.
At a meeting, one person said he didn’t want AIDS in his neighborhood, Johannessen recalled. But then, he added, an 80-year-old woman stood up and scolded the complainer, telling him that if he didn’t want AIDS, he could just not sleep with any of the boys in that house.
The move to Texas
Johannessen moved to Texas in 1998, and, he said, the move worried his father. “He knew me and my mouth,” he explained.
But Johannessen moved here anyway and went to work for HELP Center. He was also active around the community, helping found several Tarrant County organizations and addressing equality in Fort Worth and Arlington.
“I worked with the community to make sure we had a seat at the table,” he said.
In 2009, when the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission and Fort Worth police staged what’s come to be known as the raid on the Rainbow Lounge — on the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall riots, no less — Johannessen help found Fairness Fort Worth.
“In every civil rights movement, it takes people with torches and people with suits,” he said. Sometimes the same people play both roles.
Fairness Fort Worth was originally created to protest the way the raid on Rainbow Lounge was carried out and the fact that patrons were injured — one man left with lasting brain injuries — in what was supposed to be nothing more than a TABC inspection of a newly-opened bar.
But Fairness Fort Worth did more than just stage protests. Members attended city council meetings and asked politely for their rights, too. As the investigation into the raid progressed, and all evidence showed TABC agents overreacted, LGBTQ+ community members spoke to the council about what a fair resolution would be.
As a result, Fort Worth passed a nondiscrimination ordinance that included not only sexual orientation but also gender identity as part of its resolution of the raid. The city also included employee partner and transgender health benefits that surpassed anything Dallas offered its employees at the time.
Arlington’s nondiscrimination ordinance and canceling Pride
In June 2021, in large part thanks to efforts by Johannessen and other community leaders, Arlington passed its nondiscrimination ordinance, which included housing, employment and public accommodations based on sexual orientation and gender identity.
The following June, Johannessen said, “the Arlington City Council had a big debate over whether they were going to do a gay Pride proclamation. So we decided to hold the first Pride event at an Arlington location.”
He applied for required permits, hoping to see maybe 200 people turnout. More than 1,000 showed up for the celebration. The next year, Arlington Pride moved to the Levitt Pavilion, drawing some 5,000 for the party, and “It’s grown since then,” Johannessen said.
Then Trump moved back into the White House, and his administration launched an all-out war against “woke-ism,” a war in which MAGA officials at the federal and then state level threatened to yank federal funding from cities and counties that failed to at least roll back if not completely abolish any DEI initiatives.
The Arlington City Council interpreted “DEI” to include nondiscrimination protections. So the council overturned its recently enacted ordinance by a one-vote margin.
Johannessen then cancelled Arlington Pride for 2026, explaining that he couldn’t, in good conscience, invite people to come to a city to celebrate Pride where they weren’t safe. The business community in the area surrounding Levitt Pavilion was outraged because of the loss of business they’d suffer.
“Business leaders spoke out because the event generated a lot of revenue for them,” Johannessen said.
Then came Arlington’s city elections in May this year, and every council member who voted against the nondiscrimination ordinance lost their bids for reelection. And the new council promptly reinstated the city’s legal protections.
And so, Johannessen said, Pride in Arlington will be back this coming June.
Leading HELP Center
As CEO of HELP Center, Johannessen has overseen tremendous growth for the organization.
HELP Center was founded by two nuns and a person living with HIV to “take politics out of prevention,” Johannessen said. But in 1994, Kay Granger, then mayor of Fort Worth, said about the organization, “We don’t work with people like that.”
By 2016, HELP was still a small organization with a staff of six and a $600,000 budget. That was the year PrEP was introduced, spurring huge growth. Today, HELP Center has a staff of 42 and a $70 million budget. Johannesen said that with growth, for the first time in Tarrant County history, they had resources to support the community without relying on services from Dallas nonprofits.
HELP Center services now include HIV primary care and, for the trans community, gender care. Behavioral health services are also offered, and there’s also a legislative arm.
Like others in the LGBTQ+ community across the nation, Johannessen said that the Blue Wave that flipped control of Congress, along with numerous state and local governments into the hands of Democrats will pave the way for more progress — both in terms of HIV/AIDS care and LGBTQ+ rights. But he doesn’t think the LGBTQ+ community will suddenly have an easier job.
“Rather than being on defense, we now face the responsibility of governing,” he said. “That is the big challenge. People voted for change,” and leaders need to focus on addressing issues important to the community as a whole.
“People are struggling financially,” he said. “We need to work to address those issues.”
Time will tell if the Democrats are up to that task, but whatever happens, Johannessen will remain on the front lines, continuing the work that earned him the 2026 Kuchling Award.