By Karen Gullo
Zoe Dunning, U.S. Navy Commander (ret.), LGBTQ Activist and Veterans Advocate. Photo by Tumay Aslay / Seismic Sisters
Zoe Dunning went to the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis straight out of high school, excited to learn what it’s like to be a leader. She didn’t know back then that she would go on to help lead a civil rights movement that would change not only her life, but how the U.S. military treats gay and lesbian service members, and allow tens of thousands of LGBTQ people to live authentic lives while serving their country.
Next month is the ten-year anniversary of a historic ceremony where President Barack Obama signed the repeal of the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell policy, a 1993 law that banned openly gay men, lesbians, and bisexual people from serving in the military. Dunning, now a senior consultant at women-led Future State, activist and Board President of the civil rights group Wall of Vets, was there for the ceremony on December 22, 2010, standing to the left of the president, beaming in a brown pants suit, her cropped red hair swept to the side. The journey that took her there was a years-long fight against discrimination, harassment, and government lawyers who sought to discharge her from the Navy after she decided that she would no longer allow the government to force her to keep secret who she was: a lesbian naval officer.
“It came at an incredible cost,” Dunning said of the years she had to hide her sexual orientation, “to not share my whole self at work, to not be authentic, to diminish who I am in order to serve my country.”
Seismic Sisters founder Kim Christensen recently sat down for a virtual chat with Dunning, who described the incredible path that took her from her hometown of Milwaukee, where she grew up the youngest of seven children with parents who both served in the military during World War II, to her life in the military. A high school athlete and school band member, Dunning later attended the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis. While at the Academy she discovered she was a lesbian. After graduating she served six years of active duty as a supply officer on an aircraft carrier in Florida and in Washington D.C. At the time LGBTQ people were barred from the military, so she hid her sexual orientation from her superiors and colleagues.
President Barack Obama signs the Don't Ask, Don't Tell Repeal Act of 2010 during a ceremony at the Interior Department in Washington, D.C., Dec. 22, 2010. (Official White House Photo by Chuck Kennedy)
“If I were to let anyone know that I was a lesbian, I’d be immediately kicked out, I’d lose my scholarship, and lose my opportunity to serve as an officer in the Navy,” Dunning remembers. “I learned how to hide it and how to completely segment my two lives.”
By the time she finished active duty, she was no longer willing to live a lie. She knew fellow service members were being harassed, investigated, and kicked out. It was just too high a price to pay, Dunning said. “It was too hard wondering if this was the day they would find out.”
She transitioned to Navy Reserve duty and went to Stanford Graduate School of Business, where she was ‘out’ and became co-president of the gay and lesbian student group. Dunning still had to keep her military and school lives completely separate so the Navy wouldn’t find out.
Bill Clinton had just been elected president in 1992, and during his campaign he had promised to allow gays and lesbians in the military. Dunning was elated, and LGBTQ community members believed that they would finally achieve equity and the dignity that comes along with being your true self. Before his inauguration, though, Clinton started to backpedal. Gays and lesbians began organizing to protest this betrayal, and by January 1993, just days before the inauguration, a rally was scheduled at Moffett Field near Stanford to protest the ban. The organizer of the rally asked Dunning if she’d like to speak at the rally. “I said oh gosh no, that’s too risky, I don’t want to do that,” she remembers telling him. But as soon as she hung up the phone, she began to question her decision. Few in the LGBTQ community of service members had been able to speak out about the policy—they were largely absent from the discussion because talking about it meant losing their careers. Everyone else was talking about it—elected officials, gay rights activists, and attorneys, everyone except those who were affected by the policy.
Dunning spoke at the rally. “I am both a naval officer and a lesbian, and I refuse to live a lie anymore,” she told the crowd.
The Navy took swift action. It started proceedings to oust her, not once but twice. The first time came right after the speech. Dunning was found “guilty” of being a lesbian and was recommended for discharge. While her discharge was in process, President Clinton announced the “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” policy; the Navy decided to try her again under that policy. Ironically, in between the two hearings, the Navy selected Dunning for a promotion to lieutenant commander.
“On the one hand they were trying to kick me out, and on the other hand they were promoting me,” Dunning said.
After a two-and-a-half year legal battle, Dunning won in the second hearing, but the victory was bittersweet. She could remain in the Navy. However, she couldn’t sue the government in federal court to challenge the constitutionality of the policy, and the legal arguments her lawyers used to win the case were barred from future cases. And so many others were still forced to live a lie.
“I saved my career, but under Don’t Ask Don’t Tell there were 13,000 service members who lost their careers,” Dunning said. “What could I do to make a difference, how can I change this?” So she continued working to overturn the gay ban in the military, joining the Servicemembers Legal Defense Network, which provided free legal help to service members affected by Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, lobbying in Congress, fundraising and public speaking.
Dunning remained on Navy Reserve duty and with a business degree from Stanford she worked as a management consultant. For 13 years she was the only openly gay person in the military. She retired from the Navy in 2007.
Barack Obama made a campaign promise while running for president in 2008 to repeal Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, and he didn’t go back on his word. In 2010, nearly 18 years after coming out in her historic speech at Moffett Field, Dunning was invited to attend the presidential signing ceremony in Washington D.C. “It came to that moment where I was standing next to the president of United States,” Dunning recalled. A bit of jokester, Dunning watched Obama sign his name on the repeal using 13 pens that would be given away as souvenirs, and worried he would somehow lose track, quipped, “Make sure you spell it right.”
Commander Zoe Dunning sat down for an interview on Seismic Sisters Show. Photo by Tumay Aslay / Seismic Sisters.
“It was an amazing moment and a really long, and incredible, and hard journey,” she said.
Dunning has continued to lead efforts to protect the rights of veterans, women, and LGBTQ people. She’s a senior consultant at women-led change management firm Future State, which she joined in 2011. She trained with Emerge, a national organization that trains Democratic women to run for public office, and was elected to the San Francisco Democratic County Central Committee. She was nominated by House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi to serve as one of 11 commissioners of the U.S. World War I Centennial Commission.
Dunning is passionate about advancing diversity, equity, and inclusion, and has developed implicit bias training and works with companies and organizations to create diversity strategies and foster inclusive workplaces. She’s also committed to working with veterans. California Governor Gavin Newsom appointed Dunning to the California Veterans Board, which advocates for vets and their families and works with the state to assess their needs and ensure they are receiving services and benefits. Dunning is also on the advisory board of VetsInTech and leads the women’s initiative at the organization which helps veterans pursue careers in the technology sector.
Two decades after leading the fight for LGBTQ people to serve openly in the military, Dunning is ready to lead another effort to fight discrimination and defend civil rights. This summer she assembled a multiracial group of veterans in just 12 hours to protect and assist Black Lives Matter (BLM) demonstrators in Oakland protesting the killing of George Floyd. She leads the Oakland chapter and is Board President of Wall of Vets, a national group she joined with other vets after Americans watched horrifying images in July of police at BLM protests in Portland tear-gassing a Wall of Moms group and beating Navy veteran Christopher David. His crime? He asked officers in military gear why they were violating their oath to support the Constitution.
Dunning knows what it’s like to be an outsider, to experience discrimination, and wanted to do something to support Black Lives Matter. She thought veterans, who take an oath to support and defend the Constitution, could protect protesters—Americans exercising their constitutional rights to free speech and assembly—by serving as a physical wall between them and police misconduct. Wall of Vets’ motto is “our oath never expires.”
“We want to be there,” Dunning told Seismic Sisters, “to protect those rights and amplify the voices of BLM and those who are speaking out against these injustices.”
Karen Gullo is a freelance writer and former Associated Press and Bloomberg News reporter covering technology, law, and public policy. She is currently an analyst and senior media relations specialist at Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) in San Francisco.