Metro Weekly

Wanda Alston’s Cesar Toledo Leads with Determination and Joy

Cesar Toledo is bringing new vision, energy, and purpose to Wanda Alston's mission of serving LGBTQ homeless youth.

Cesar Toledo - Photo: Judy Schloss/Metro Weekly
Cesar Toledo – Photo: Judy Schloss/Metro Weekly

“I am my worst critic,” says Cesar Toledo, executive director of the Wanda Alston Foundation. “I set really ambitious deadlines for myself, sometimes unrealistic goals, but somehow, through my tenacity and just that call to public service — and being raised in a humble home where my mom worked three jobs to raise us — I carry that very hard work ethic with me every day. And because of that, I’ve been successful in my career path.”

Toledo assumed the role as head of the nonprofit dedicated to serving LGBTQ homeless youth earlier this year, succeeding longtime executive director June Crenshaw, who announced she’d be stepping down last fall.

It’s a new experience for the 33-year-old, who previously spent much of his time in the political and public relations arenas, serving as political director for the LGBTQ+ Victory Fund, deputy director for Democrats for Education Reform DC, and as National LGBTQ+ Engagement Director for the Harris for President campaign.

“There is no doubt that I have so much to learn about stepping into the direct services space,” he says. “And the only way that I’ve been successful is by asking a lot of questions, being at our housing facility once a week, getting the perspective and understanding of the history of the organization from all kinds of stakeholders, from folks from all walks of life. It’s been an incredible learning journey.”

Toledo has been able to rely on his strong work ethic and call on some of the skills amassed in his other jobs to help him run Wanda Alston, a small foundation that lacks an extensive company hierarchy but is one of the most influential advocates for LGBTQ youth experiencing homelessness.

“When you run a campaign, you manage a budget, you manage a team,” he says. “When you work in PR, you know how to shape headlines and run press releases. The one piece that I’m still learning and navigating is: how do we change our programming to support our youth?”

He’s proud of the accomplishments he’s achieved thus far.

“I had no idea that I could put together a fall reception with my board of directors, without any development staff, without any consultants or event planners,” he shares, speaking about a recent fundraising event. “And now, to be here less than a year later, having raised over a quarter of a million dollars for this very small local foundation, is beyond me. I have no idea how I got here or how I was able to do it, but I really give a lot of kudos to my mom, who raised four kids and showed me how to deal with so many life challenges.”

Born and raised in the East County region of San Diego, California, Toledo, the son of Mexican immigrants, credits his parents for teaching him the values of strength, hard work, and resilience in the face of adversity. Living in a small town with a single high school, Toledo was motivated and ambitious to strike out on his own.

“The little gay boy inside me was screaming out for freedom, wanting to go see the world and explore,” he says. “I knew I was a little different, and I had to think of a way to not only break the poverty cycle that my family had been trapped in for many generations, but really leap towards a career in something that I really cared about.”

Attending the University of California, Riverside, where he majored in global studies, Toledo initially considered a career in international relations.

“I dreamed about being a diplomat or working for the Department of State, really representing our values internationally and really pushing for urgent humanitarian aid and support that is needed for so many folks across the world that are struggling,” he says.

But an opportunity arose that allowed Toledo to study stateside, in Sacramento, while interning for California’s then-Lt. Gov. Gavin Newsom. He also worked for a city council member in Sacramento, focusing on educational issues. After amassing experience in state and local government, Toledo felt called to do a two-year stint with the Peace Corps in Uganda — an opportunity that offered him the chance to travel abroad.

Returning to the states, he resumed his work in politics, taking a position with the LGBTQ+ Victory Fund, where he knocked doors for LGBTQ candidates and honed his public relations skills. For the next few years, he continued his work in politics and public relations before applying for the open executive director position at Wanda Alston Foundation.

As he settles into his post and begins to expand Wanda Alston’s programming and services — a daunting task, to be sure — Toledo has also found some joy in his personal life, recently becoming engaged to his boyfriend of six years. He hopes to build a family with his soon-to-be husband.

For Toledo, who was a teenager when the fights over Proposition 8 were raging in California, the eventual legalization of marriage equality and the evolution of societal acceptance for same-sex couples is still something at which he marvels.

“I saw some neighbors, some of my friends’ parents actively campaigning in support of that anti-gay proposition,” he says. “I felt unsafe and I didn’t feel validated. It was just a really, really difficult time in my childhood to really experience that much hate and to see the attacks on the community. I got to see and experience every campaign tactic, from people standing on the street early in the mornings, waving yard signs, to the radio ads playing in our school bus every morning on the way to school, and every afternoon on my way home.

“It was quite a dark experience, and I’m really thankful that I was actually able to, years later, be in Sacramento, California, interning for then-Lieutenant Governor Gavin Newsom when Prop 8 was overturned. So I got to see a full 360 on the issue.”

Noting that attacks on LGBTQ visibility and identity are still occurring — with the Trump administration being one of the chief offenders — Toledo tries not to obsess over what sometimes feels like a barrage of negative news, choosing instead to embrace the positive things in life.

“I refuse to allow the opposition to take my joy,” he says. “So I’m looking inward. I am focused on my own path and my journey with my fiancé. And I’m so excited about that.”

Cesar Toledo - Photo: Judy Schloss/Metro Weekly
Cesar Toledo – Photo: Judy Schloss/Metro Weekly

METRO WEEKLY: When did you first realize your sexual orientation was different from those around you?

CESAR TOLEDO: I didn’t know it at the time, but I was very, very young, obsessed with watching WWE. Then and there, I learned that I was a little different, that I was interested in something different than what my other friends were thinking about. But I didn’t come out until I was 24 years old. So it took me a long time to come to that realization, and to love myself and love my identity and to speak that loud and clear. It actually happened right before I went to the Peace Corps.

MW: Who was the first person you came out to, and what was the reaction?

TOLEDO: One of the most meaningful friends that I had — and I still have. I came out to her and received nothing but warm love and appreciation. She had no idea. I was very surprised. So somehow I carried some masculinity that ensured that I was able to squeeze on by. But with everyone that I’ve come out to, it’s only been such a warm, welcoming experience.

It was either a year ago or two years ago that my fiancé was introduced to my family — to my abuelita, my tias — and nothing but love. That is just so rare. It doesn’t happen too often, but to see not only my friends accept me for who I am, but my family –- people who I feared coming out to at a young age because as a teenager, I remember people campaigning in my neighborhood for Prop 8. I got to see that negativity and vociferous attitudes towards the LGBTQ community at a young age. But my coming out has been truly a wonderful experience, and that’s not something that many folks can say. So I’m just honored to be surrounded by that love and that community.

MW: Let’s talk about your experience in the Peace Corps in Uganda, of all places.

TOLEDO: It was one of the most worthwhile experiences I’ve ever had in my life. I was able to serve in Uganda, in East Africa, a very small village outside of a town called Fort Portal. I taught phonics to public school students. Being so secluded, being so far away from the hustle and bustle of America really gave me a lot of time to reflect on who I am, what I appreciate about this world, and what my place is.

Ultimately, I learned more about myself being in that setting. I also realized that elections and political representation matters, and I wanted to come back to this country and get involved, get my hands dirty and be on the front lines, especially with the movement for equality.

MW: You were about 24 when you went to Uganda?

TOLEDO: My goodness, yes.

MW: Okay. So nine years ago, that’s 2016. Around that time, Ugandan lawmakers were crafting the first version of an anti-gay law criminalizing homosexuality and attempting to punish people for advocating for homosexuality. In fact, the current law still recommends the death penalty for some acts of “aggravated homosexuality.” When you were there, did you know what was going on with debates over the law? Was it affecting your daily life? What was it like being there while this was being debated?

TOLEDO: I was deployed to Uganda in 2016. I went into the Peace Corps thinking that Hillary Clinton would be the next president of the United States of America, that there would be a renewal within the international policy debate. I remember being there in Ethiopia’s international airport watching the results swing to Donald Trump. I remember thinking that I would have a lot of international safeguard or safeguards from my home country, but that soon became a question, and something I became more nervous about.

Throughout my time in Uganda, it absolutely did cross my mind, but even now, as I reflect, it’s not a safe place for queer folk. It’s not a safe place at all. But my call to service was not to push my ideals, to push my agenda, it was to learn about what it’s like for folks living in a developing country plagued by poverty, by so many compounding issues. My mom was raised in similar settings — without power, without running water — in a small village very far out from the cities. So I wanted to gain that empathy and have an understanding of what the reality is for so many folks around the world.

MW: Did you ever feel in danger while in Uganda?

TOLEDO: There were definitely a few incidents that were close calls, but I was constantly careful about my surroundings, where I was going, how I was behaving, what I was wearing. Again, I wasn’t there to wave a rainbow flag, I was there to learn and to be part of a cohort that experienced the realities of so many folks who are in the developing world.

MW: But did you have to closet yourself? My understanding of the law and the way it was written, even in its first iteration, is that somebody could report you to authorities for being gay. I get that you weren’t trying to push an agenda, but was it ever a concern that you might be outed by somebody and that would create problems for you?

TOLEDO: It was a concern. It was constantly top of mind. But the only time I really felt unsafe was when I was stopped in a transport vehicle on my way to my village. Because I didn’t have my passport on me, they pulled me aside and began interviewing me. And in that moment, what was going on in the United States with what our president was saying about Mexicans and the narratives about that community, made me fearful of what might happen to me if I was detained by Ugandan authorities.

MW: Have you ever felt in danger or experienced violence because of your sexual orientation in the United States?

TOLEDO: I thankfully have had the opportunity to travel to more than a dozen states, championing and supporting out queer candidates, knocking on doors all the way from Atlanta to Omaha, Lincoln, Sioux Falls, and I’ve never felt unsafe. And I was out there, again, championing these out queer folks running for public office. I really remember a cold morning canvassing for Kameron Nelson running for the State House in South Dakota. I was knocking on Republican doors, I was knocking on independent doors, out there canvassing in brutal, cold weather, but I never felt unsafe.

MW: How do you feel the political landscape for LGBTQ people has changed since 2016, whether for good or bad?

TOLEDO: What I will say is that, at least in D.C., one out of three hate crimes in 2014, according to MPD’s data, shows that it involves a victim from our LGBTQ community. So violence still exists. Our community continuously is being targeted, whether that be in a public setting, or even in DC’s DYRS system, even our young folks, juveniles behind bars from our queer community. So this is still an issue, it’s always been an issue, it’s not going away.

And that’s why it’s important that we have folks from our community in positions of influence and positions of power, to ensure that protections are available for support and wraparound services to be there when we have folks from our community impacted by violence. That’s why I’m so proud of the work that we are doing here at the Wanda Alston Foundation to support victims of violence, to support folks impacted by anti-LGBTQ violence.

MW: Even when it doesn’t involve violence, do you think politically the attitude towards queer people has changed?

TOLEDO: I think it’s been more accepting than ever. We have never had this many out LGBTQ elected officials across the country. We’re still nowhere near equitable representation — that’s going to take a while — but there are more than 1,300 out LGBTQ electeds in office across the country. That is a record-breaking number, especially when thinking about the countless hurdles and fights that we’ve had to earn our place in society. We’ve got governors, members in the U.S. House, we’ve got statewide elected officials, we have Kris Mayes, the attorney general of Arizona, really holding it down for the community. This is power. This is how we win.

MW: How did you get involved with the Wanda Alston Foundation?

TOLEDO: Before the Wanda Alston Foundation, I was with the Harris-Walz campaign, serving as the deputy LGBTQ engagement director, mobilizing the queer community for Harris-Walz, and things didn’t turn out the way we had hoped. But thankfully, there was an opportunity to step away from the national political scene, and double down on doing something that shapes the lives of some of our most vulnerable members of our LGBTQ community, and that is homeless youth. There was an opportunity after months of going through a [hiring] process, and I’m blessed today to have the support of the board and to be here as the executive director.

This is my first time ever serving at this executive level for an organization, so I’ve learned many lessons. And I think my secret sauce to this is really leaning on mentors, folks who have done this before, to give me that advice that they wish they had when they were first starting their careers. There’ve been so many folks who’ve raised their hands, sat down with me over coffee, and really given me some honest and candid advice about how to navigate running an organization, especially one that is so small, but is also nimble and punches above its weight.

MW: Let’s get into the details of the work that the Wanda Alston Foundation does. For starters, what is the purpose of the Wanda Alston Foundation?

TOLEDO: The Wanda Alston Foundation’s goal is to eradicate homelessness for LGBTQ young people in poverty. We do this by having a few programs. We were the first organization in the District to launch a housing transitional program for LGBTQ young people. And since then, we have grown to now have 10 apartments, co-located on one campus, for 20 youth, where we provide them with that transitional housing space, equip them with life skills, with employment, education, and opportunities to be able to find permanent housing or some form of permanency and independence.

We previously had a model where we had different housing options in different parts of the city, working with multiple landlords, but that doesn’t work for us. We’re so small that we wanted to find a place where all the housing units were co-located, and with [a centrally located] office space where we could have our staff, in person, 24-7. Thankfully, we work with a landlord who has been able to provide that. Not every housing program’s like that, but again, we’re very small, so we can deliver that type of service. And that’s important because our budgets are very small and tight, so we need to make sure that we stretch every penny as possible.

The other program that we have is the Counseling Center, where we provide free counseling services to the community, anyone impacted by violence from our LGBTQ family. As I stated earlier, one out of three hate crimes in the District impact our community. Domestic violence and intimate partner violence is very prevalent and exists. So we want to be here to support folks from our community going through that process of healing.

MW: I know you’ve received some form of government grant or assistance in past years. Has that been cut off this year because of budgetary concerns?

TOLEDO: I’m happy to report that we have not had any of our grants cut related to our transitional housing program or our counseling center. We thankfully have such good allies and partners — the mayor’s office, the D.C. Council — who understand the importance and the urgency of providing services that we offer to the community, and we have not seen any cuts.

That is so rare and so hard to find because right now nearly 40% of all homeless youth identify as LGBTQ. And when you look at the recent Point-in-Time report conducted by the Continuum of Care, we’re actually seeing a rise in queer homelessness for our young people. So the crisis is here, the urgency is now, and the work that we’re doing needs to grow in scale. And I’m happy to report that since my short time being here in this role, less than a year, I have been able to raise over a quarter million dollars for this small, local, humble nonprofit.

MW: How have you raised that money?

TOLEDO: It’s a mix. We’ve been able to raise half a million dollars in grassroots donations and from corporate donors. We had a fall reception just a few months ago, and we were able to raise over $55,000 just from that one reception –- a major return on investment because we didn’t spend so much money on that event and we don’t have the staff to put that event together. So it’s really been a community-driven approach from private donors and foundations.

One thing that I love to share is that part of the lifeblood of the organization is the many LGBTQ sports leagues that exist in this town, from DC Front Runners to Stonewall and Rogue Sports to the Capital Tennis Association. Those folks are there for us every single year, raising thousands of dollars for the organization as part of their charitable giving initiatives.

I want to be clear here: there is no development team. There’s no consultant supporting me in this effort. We don’t have a comms person. We’re a very small team, and I’ve been very thankful and fortunate enough to leverage my previous experiences raising money for queer candidates, raising money for different causes to now double down on those strategies to support our homeless queer youth. And I just cannot be any more thankful for the board of directors, a handful of folks who really deeply care about this work and show up every single month to our many meetings. If it wasn’t for them, we wouldn’t have been able to raise the unprecedented amount of money that our local nonprofit is receiving.

Cesar Toledo - Photo: Judy Schloss/Metro Weekly
Cesar Toledo – Photo: Judy Schloss/Metro Weekly

MW: What do you want people to understand about what youth homelessness looks like?

TOLEDO: From my experiences talking to our youth, looking into the data, and really trying to look at it from multiple perspectives, I would say that the unfortunate reality is that our queer young people are more likely to be homeless, are more likely to be pushed out of their home for coming out. And D.C. has always been a safe haven for those young people. Thanks to our local leaders, thanks to the community support, we’ve been able to provide that home.

MW: How many clients do you serve, approximately?

TOLEDO: Through our transitional housing program, we serve 20 youth at a time. That is our max capacity. And I’m happy to report that over 50% of our clients we’ve served through our transitional housing program have successfully transitioned out into some form of permanent housing or other housing support programs. That is huge for the organization. We haven’t seen that success rate in a long time.

MW: Are they required to have jobs to live in the apartment or are there certain requirements that they have to meet as part of a transitional housing program?

TOLEDO: There are a number of rules. It’s a very, very regulated industry, and we are a housing-first program. As long as the clients are following the program rules, as long as they’re speaking and working with our case managers, they can be part of the program. And we are seeing that happen, now that we’re finally fully staffed up in terms of the frontline staff.

We have a part-time therapist, we’ve got a number of support staff there at our housing facility. Our youth have a number of champions that they can go see and have some real conversations about navigating the workforce, about navigating the housing industry, and what are their next steps after this program, because they’re only with us for about two to three years. So we want to make sure that we’re equipping them with the life skills and the independence that they need to be able to live independently.

MW: What are the reasons for why the number of homeless youth who identify as LGBTQ is so much higher than the percentage they make up of the overall population?

TOLEDO: The reason why we’re seeing such a large number of queer young people experiencing homelessness is because of just the compounding life experiences — from being kicked out of their home, being unaccepted by their family and their loved ones, to the realities of today’s economy and the rising costs of living expenses. Rent is so expensive and so high. The job market has been tougher than ever before. The reality is that there has been such a decline of resources to support the LGBTQ community, and so many of our folks in the community are being impacted. These are just the stark realities that we’re in.

The other factor that we often don’t talk about is the link between young queer folks and incarceration. LGBTQ youth currently represent 20% of all youth in the juvenile justice system. That is highly overrepresented.

One stat that comes to mind when we think about the conversation around incarceration is that about one in four of the youth that we served this year have been involved, in one form or another, with the criminal justice system. We are working hand-in-hand at times with probation officers, helping our young people to navigate that difficult bureaucracy, but also to re-enter society and find their own path towards independence. That’s why it’s so urgent that we have the support of the community and that we have allies and champions, including our elected officials, to ensure that we can deliver these life-saving services.

MW: Separately from the housing program, how many people do you serve through the counseling center?

TOLEDO: Overall, through the services that we provide through our counseling center, from one-on-one therapy to group support programs and our self-defense courses, we serve over 40 clients a year.

My goal and my vision is to really increase that support and increase those services. I just received a grant last week that’s going to allow us to bring on a full-time therapist at the organization. Right now, we have a part-time therapist, but now we’ll be able to scale up those services and really meet the urgent needs of our community. So I’m really excited about that.

The other new service that I’m excited about is we’ll soon be kick-starting a research lab. We need more data on how we, as a city, are helping our queer young people. We haven’t had a robust data analysis on how our queer young people are doing in the District.

So I really want to make sure that we get an in-depth story of how our young people are doing, from their economic situation, to their housing, to their mental health, so that we can inform our community and elected leaders about urgent issues that our young people are facing. We’re going to be working hand-in-hand with community leaders, with researchers to launch a community survey so that we can gather that information, digest it, and create a report that we share with the community. So be on the lookout for that in mid-2026.

MW: What do you think the general public misunderstands about LGBTQ youth?

TOLEDO: There’s general misconceptions about young people’s awareness of their surroundings or what’s going on, whether it be the political world or what’s currently happening in Congress. I think there’s just a general sense of apathy and just unawareness, but the reality is young people are so in touch with what’s going on, and are self-aware. Despite the doom scrolling on TikTok and Instagram, they are so hyper alert and understand what is happening in this country as we speak.

Our young people are so engaged and want to be involved. I have never seen that type of energy from my own fellow millennials and older folks. There’s just a real sense of energy to do something and to be involved and to really make change happen. Especially when I was working on the Harris-Walz campaign, I got to see, firsthand, young people showing up, especially queer young people, with that energy and that interest to do something to shape our country.

Cesar Toledo - Photo: Judy Schloss/Metro Weekly
Cesar Toledo – Photo: Judy Schloss/Metro Weekly

MW: Looking at your work for the Wanda Alston Foundation, are there any stories or experiences you can share about the impact that you’re having on LGBTQ youth?

TOLEDO: When I first got to the Wanda Alston Foundation, the number one thing our clients wanted to see us do differently was the food. I took that on and I was like, “Okay, what can we do differently about this?” And it also happened to be around Pride Month. So I was able to launch a campaign — we called it the “Slay and Sauté Campaign” — to raise money to launch a culinary program at our housing facility.

By working with the DC Front Runners and Wegmans, and activating the community, we were able to raise over $16,000 and put together resources so we could launch this fun, innovative cooking program at the housing facility. That allowed us to buy air fryers, rice cookers, smoothie blenders, rice, and a number of other items so that our youth can be equipped with these cooking utensils. Just two weeks ago, we had a chef from Open Crumb come and teach a lesson on how to make an air fryer pizza from scratch. Cooking skills are such an essential tool to have in life. I know I’ve almost burned my kitchen, so it’s important to have these lessons being taught. I don’t know if you have an air fryer, John.

MW: I don’t.

TOLEDO: They’re so easy. They’re life-changing and they’re healthy, too.

MW: I’ll look into them, thanks. Final question: What concerns you most about the future?

TOLEDO: Today’s political climate is very toxic. These are unprecedented times for our community. We’ve seen the decline of support for marriage equality across the country. We’re seeing the Supreme Court potentially weigh in on this issue. There’s just so much to fear, but I refuse to let the opposition take my joy, to steal my joy. I refuse to do that.

For me, what I’m actually very excited about for the future is how the Wanda Alston Foundation is going to scale up its services, how we are going to rise to meet this moment, and do more, to not only support our homeless queer youth, but to support the District at large. Now, more than ever, we need leaders to step up and rise to meet this moment, and we are going to be there at the ready.

The amount of support the organization has had in this year is unprecedented. Resources are so important, and thankfully, the community has stepped up. I constantly have people asking me, “How can I volunteer? What can I do?” So many folks across the District from different types of backgrounds have raised their hands and shown up when I’ve asked them to show up. That, to me, is quintessential and incredibly important for the queer movement.

It’s only through organizing, through coalition-building, and community, that we get through tough times. We’ve overcome so much throughout the journey in the movement for equality, and it’s only through community that we can really think about hope and for the future.

For more information on the Wanda Alston Foundation, visit wandaalstonfoundation.org or follow the organization on X at @WandaAHouse, or on Instagram at @wandaalstonfoundation.

You can follow Cesar Toledo on X at @ChicoCes or on Instagram at @chico_ces.

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