
Lambda Archives, a community archive that preserves San Diego’s storied LGBTQ+ history, is saying goodbye to its first and only executive director.
Nicole Verdés, who volunteered at the nonprofit for nearly a decade before getting hired in 2024 as the managing director and was later named executive director, left the position on June 30.
Lambda Archives, founded by Jess Jessop in 1987, was volunteer-run for decades. That changed, however, in 2024 with the hiring of Verdés and the archive’s decision to switch from having a volunteer board run the archive to a governance structure.
Some Lambda Archives board members credit Verdés for making the organizational switch possible. Verdés did so by tripling the nonprofit’s budget, while adding youth programming and diversifying at all levels.

“Nicole’s service to Lambda has been truly singular,” said T.J. Tallie, a board member who spent his sabbatical from the University of San Diego as the organization’s first community historian in residence and studied queer Black life in the region. “When I look back on Nicole’s legacy, I’m so grateful for their vision in helping Lambda not only continue to exist as a meaningful queer organization in San Diego, something they did through tireless fundraising and grant writing efforts, but also in expanding our reach, recognition and responsiveness within San Diego.”
“It has been magical,” Verdés said. “Now, 11 years later, for sure, some of the things that have changed have been remarkable. But I didn’t even really feel it while they were happening.”
Verdés first visited Lambda’s office, tucked in behind the Diversionary Theatre in University Heights, after completing their master’s in Sociological Practice at Cal State San Marcos.
The office contained boxes and boxes of protest signs, lesbian and gay publications, queer zines and photos of LGBTQ+ life in San Diego.
The small exhibit space at the front had a diorama depicting when uniformed officers from the San Diego County Sheriff and the San Diego Police Department first marched in the Pride Parade.
“I loved Lambda from the get-go. I saw the beauty from the minute I walked in,” Verdés said. “But there was also this weird thing happening where a lot of the stories that were being pushed to the forefront were not what I would consider uplifting queer and trans voices, Black and brown voices.”
Despite living in San Diego for several years at that point, Verdés had not been active in the community. Verdés worked full-time in corporate finance and went to night school while maintaining ties in their hometown of San Bernardino. Growing up in an area without LGBTQ+ gathering spaces meant Verdés did not know the extent to which a wider queer community can exist beyond having a few friends.

“Lambda was the first place where I started learning what it meant to be part of a community, what it meant to be something bigger than myself,” Verdés said. “And out of that, I’ve gotten a lot of really awesome relationships, and some of my best friends.”
After volunteering twice a week, they were invited to join the board as treasurer, a position that required a background in finance. Verdés worked their way up, eventually becoming board president, which meant leading fundraising efforts and managing day-to-day operations.
Even having worked at bigger organizations, Verdés liked Lambda’s grassroots feel.
“One of the benefits of being a smaller organization is that it gives you more freedom,” Verdés said.
Verdés used that freedom to be slow, thoughtful and intentional in decision making.
“Nicole cares deeply about our community and its history. I have always appreciated the intentionality they brought to the work,” Joe Fejeran, Lambda’s current board president, said.
Verdés made sure to keep Lambda’s principles at the forefront of every decision, even financial ones. Verdés turned down grants from institutions that conflicted with Lambda’s values, and on one occasion rejected support from a bank that invested in prisons.
“That’s Lambda’s thing, is that we stay true and have remained true to our values. And I think it’s also what makes Lambda just an outright queer organization,” they said. “Queer as in abolish ICE… We’re not afraid to put those kinds of positions out there, sometimes louder than others.”
When Verdés first got involved, most board members were white, of the Stonewall generation and had deep pockets. They could write a check to fill gaps whenever Lambda was not making its operating expenses.

Verdés switched to more grant-focused fundraising. They opened board positions to members who were not as financially well off as others.
“When we started rebuilding the board, it was really important to me to have people that it was like, ‘you don’t even have to give,’” Verdés said. “What I want is your voice. I want you to feel like you have a place in this organization and at this table, because I wasn’t seeing that when I first arrived here.”
Diversifying at all levels, from board to staff to stories collected, is what Verdés sees as their biggest triumph.
“My proudest is knowing that the stories that we have focused on most, that have been sitting in these boxes in the back all this time, are now the stories that we bring out, and we bring them out in really dynamic ways,” they said.
“We’ve pushed and pushed and built and brought diverse voices onto the board and onto the staff that know how important it is to actually pull those stories out first and share them with the public.”
Verdés also sought grants that let the organization be creative. Lambda never had youth programming until a county grant launched a multi-year effort where queer youth collected the oral histories of trans elders.
But their talent as a grant writer also put the organization in a bind when Verdés’ term as board president was up. They brought up that there wasn’t a successor on the board with a background in finance, so perhaps it was time, especially as the budget grew, to create a full-time staff position instead of relying completely on a volunteer board to raise the entire budget.
The board settled on the title of managing director. Verdés applied.

“It was kind of a funny process to, in essence, apply for the job I was already doing, except actually getting paid for it,” they said.
Close to three years later, Verdés is only comfortable leaving the organization because it is in the strongest financial position it has been in during their tenure, despite the fundraising landscape for an LGBTQ+ organization getting more difficult year over year.
“The work they have put in is leaving the organization stronger than when they started,” Fejeran said.
At every challenge over the past 11 years, Verdés chose to meet and overcome them to preserve the queer archive they hold so dear.
“I could have just stepped away from Lambda altogether, but I have always thought that Lambda was worth fighting for,” they said.
For July, Verdés is taking a break before their next role. Lambda, meanwhile, will have an interim director while the board searches for a new executive director who will protect the organization’s values.
“Lambda has some big shoes to fill with Nicole’s departure,” Tallie said. “But I’m confident that we’ll find someone who will help us intentionally grow while still centering ourselves in the very queer spaces that gave us meaning and hope in the first place.”







