Tanya Tsikanovsky never imagined she would become a Republican political candidate. For most of her life, the lifelong Los Angeles resident was active in LGBTQ spaces as she always had: openly gay, proudly Jewish and politically aligned with Democrats.
That changed in 2024, after a confrontation at Dyke Day Los Angeles that she now describes as the breaking point.
On Dyke Day LA 2024, she showed up in Sycamore Grove Park wearing a royal blue T-shirt with the word “Israel” printed in white, shorts and a large black Magen David tattoo on her right arm, near her shoulder and bicep. It was only about eight months since the Hamas attacks on Israel on Oct. 7, 2023.
“I was walking around and felt like a pariah. It was crazy. Then the part that really did it was a feminine-presenting woman who came up to me. When you think of Dyke Day, you think of women that look like me — ones that are actually visibly dykes or ones that have suffered what it means to visibly walk around as a gay woman.”
She was told by the woman, “You’re not welcome here, why are you here?”
“All because I’m a Zionist,” Tsikanovsky said. “And so they proceeded to tell me that I was ‘a Nazi’ and that my ‘people are perpetrating genocide.’ Some also self-identified as Jews too. So of course, these are the JVP lovelies that are saying that.” She said she saw people wearing shirts that said “(Gay men) for the Intifada,” “death to the Zionists” and “globalize intifada.”
The incident, which she recorded and briefly posted online before it was flagged by Instagram and taken down. The Journal reviewed the video. It also set her on a new path that has pulled her away from the Democratic Party, pushed her deeper into public advocacy than ever before. Some of the first groups to welcome Tsikanovsky were the Log Cabin Republicans of West Hollywood and the Republican Women Federated of Santa Monica.
“For me, being an advocate for gay rights has always been there. And so always feeling ostracized, always feeling like I had to fight something, always feeling marginalized.”
She came out at 14, founded the Gay Straight Alliance at Brentwood School, and spent years working on marriage equality and mentoring LGBTQ youth and is proud of that work.
“It’s extra disgusting that now I’m feeling it from the same community that I spent so many years fighting for and championing. And that no matter which way you slice it, I’m still a gay woman.”
The Dyke Day incident did not happen in isolation. Tsikanovsky said it came amid a pattern of exclusion that intensified after Oct. 7. She left an LGBTQ sports league in West Hollywood where she had played for years and served as a captain. Friends she had known for decades stopped speaking to her.
“People can wear Keffiyeh and watermelon shirts, I literally feel like the rainbow [flag] has been replaced by the watermelon.” The watermelon has been used as a symbol for the pro-Palestine movement for its red, black and green colors — the same as the Palestinian flag. “There’s so many gay Jews — Harvey Milk in San Francisco, Edie Windsor, who is responsible for marriage equality, was a Jew. So many of the milestones for gay rights were because of Jews.”
Tsikanovsky is the daughter of Jewish refugees from the former Soviet Union. She said her father often warned her growing up that Jews would never be fully accepted, no matter how integrated they became. For years, she rejected that view. After Oct. 7 and the Dyke Day confrontation, she said the personal reckoning made her see things differently.
“My dad was right,” she said. “I fought against it and didn’t believe him. And now I do.”
Tsikanovsky said at first, the shift was not about partisan politics. She was not wearing campaign shirts, not evangelizing for candidates and not seeking confrontation. What changed, she said, was how Zionism became a social red line that could not be crossed in queer spaces. She was a campaign organizer for Hillary for President ahead of the 2016 election in Iowa. In 2024, Tsikanovsky formally left the Democratic Party.
“I definitely feel betrayed by my community, but I also felt betrayed by the Democrats,” she said. “I just feel betrayed by so many communities that I’ve been a part of.”
“I definitely feel betrayed by my community, but I also felt betrayed by the Democrats. … I just feel betrayed by so many communities that I’ve been a part of.”
She shifted her focus to “strengthening Jewish confidence and presence.”
“I’m personally really sick of the nice Jew,” she said. “I don’t care to change their mind. I care about other Jews that wanted to be at Dyke Day and didn’t feel safe.”
Since then, Tsikanovsky has become increasingly visible as a speaker and organizer. She has spoken at events hosted by Stand With Us, the Women’s International Zionist Organization of California (WIZO) and The Golda Project.
Her Instagram account, @highlyjewish has ballooned to over 40,000 followers and millions of views — she frequently receives private messages from queer Jews who feel silenced or pushed back into the closet.
“So many messages I’ve gotten from people that are gay have said to me, ‘Thank you for being my voice when I couldn’t be,’” she said. “It makes me feel very sad that they’re so alone.”
Tsikanovsky is preparing to announce a run for West Hollywood City Council ahead of the Nov. 3, 2026 election, though she has not yet filed. Three at-large seats will be contested, two open due to term limits, with former Mayor Chelsea Byers already running and a possible additional vacancy tied to Councilmember John Erickson’s State Senate bid.
“West Hollywood means something to me no other place does,” Tsikanovsky said. “Many of my family came here when they came from the USSR. I grew up playing at Plummer Park with my cousins. And after coming out at 14 and a few years later getting my fake ID, TigerHeat, Rage, and The Abbey became the places that held some of my favorite memories. West Hollywood is a part of my identity. And I want to bring some of what made it so amazing back again,” Tsikanovsky said.
She said she wants to ensure that Jewish residents, including Zionists, are not excluded from public life in a city known for its LGBTQ leadership.
“I’m just calling for unapologetic pride and space. You’re not going to deny me mine in the process of you spewing your hate.”
Her upcoming campaign, she said, is not about purging West Hollywood of dissenting views or policing speech, but about making space for all speech and embracing all members of the West Hollywood community.
“The need to be strong outweighs the fear,” she said. “The only way to beat it is with pride.”
Whether Tsikanovsky’s run gains traction remains to be seen. She is one of countless Jews who once felt secure in progressive spaces now reassessing the degree of power, safety and belonging. For Tsikanovsky, the decision feels overdue.
Her candidacy would place her at the intersection of multiple fault lines: queer politics, Jewish identity, and the ongoing realignment of Jewish voters after 2024.
“All of us have experienced a lot of wow moments from things since Oct. 7,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said.
