On most Wednesday nights from 6 to 8 p.m., the first faces greeting you at The LGBTQ+ Center of Southern Nevada are Kristopher “Otter” Minnich and Gary “Bear” Brewer. For ten years, this couple has offered the same dependable welcome: a calm check-in, a quick answer, a smile that says you’re in the right place. This year, they’re being recognized as Volunteers of the Year at Honorarium—a surprise that left them humbled.

“Are you sure it’s us?” Gary recalls asking when the call came in. Kristopher adds why it resonated so deeply: “It’s especially meaningful because of Russell Davis. He committed essentially a full-time load of service with love and compassion. To be recognized in his name is a true honor.”

Quiet Work, Real Impact

Ask them about the award and they’ll point to everyone else—the clinic regulars, the library caretakers, the all-weather desk anchors—before they point to themselves. That humility is part of their impact. They prefer what’s needed over what’s visible: answering phones from home during the pandemic, wrangling silent auctions, shooting photos, fixing technology, even helping deploy Wi-Fi before the clinic expansion.

That belief shapes how they show up. “Visibility can get performative if you’re not careful,” Gary adds. “Some of the most meaningful work happens behind the scenes. We’ve always valued being where the work actually is—filling gaps, meeting people where they are.”

The Wednesday Constant

Their signature contribution is consistency. For a decade, they’ve anchored the Wednesday evening front desk—learning the rhythms of programs and meetings, remembering names, and lowering the threshold for someone’s first visit.

“We’ve had folks tell us they look forward to seeing us on Wednesdays,” Gary says. “And we feel the same about them. We’ve watched groups grow and thrive. You see the infrastructure of queer Las Vegas—recovery meetings, peer support, community partners—moving through those doors.”

Kristopher hears it, too, from people who drive 30–40 minutes for AA at The Center because it feels welcoming and familiar. “They’ll say, ‘This group is respectful and meaningful—and it’s nice to see you two when we arrive.’ That’s very kind.”

When “Show Up” Means “Pivot”

Showing up sometimes means sprinting. During a sudden downpour a few years ago, Picnic by Design was rained out at Symphony Park. Instead of canceling, the team relocated into a World Market Center tent pavilion. Gary joined the rescue effort. “It was unorthodox,” he says, “but fantastic to watch everyone pivot—use what we had, make it work, and still give people a memorable night.”

Other snapshots: racing backstage at Honorarium the year Russell Davis was honored to get awards on stage; fielding Center Advocacy Network calls from home during COVID; countless hours organizing silent auction items; and earlier, helping with network setup until a corporate partner could take it over. Where’s the need, and what can we lend right now?

A Couple’s Momentum

Being honored as a couple reflects how they volunteer—together, with complementary strengths. “When Gary moved to Vegas, one of the first things he wanted was to get involved with The Center,” Kristopher says. “He brought me along for the ride, and doing it together gave me purpose. We push each other to be better stewards of our community—even on the Sundays when staying in bed would be easier.”

Gary smiles. “Some of my most precious Las Vegas memories are the things we’ve done for and with The Center. Receiving this with my husband feels like the sum of that journey.”

What Leadership Really Takes

A decade of volunteering teaches you about leadership, title or not. “It’s hard,” Gary says. “You can’t make everyone happy. In any complex organization, you’re balancing needs, resources, and time. What I appreciate is when people lead with empathy—keeping everyone’s needs in mind instead of chasing what’s fast or easy.”

Kristopher notes that movement is natural in nonprofits, especially queer spaces—leaders, coordinators, and volunteers follow passions and life changes. “What matters is nurturing the people who are there,” he says. “Check in, ask how they’re doing, make sure they feel seen. That’s The Center at its best.”

They light up talking about youth programming, especially Qvolution—life skills, cooking, even screen printing T-shirts (a day Kristopher and Gary helped teach). They also praise the passion-built programs like the Center Advocacy Network and Pivot, and the families who show up after long workdays to learn how to support their kids. “Those programs exist because people believed in them, and The Center nurtured that belief,” Kristopher says.

Superpowers—and an Invitation

Asked for their “volunteer superpowers,” Kristopher laughs: “Gary’s is bear hugs; they’re highly requested.” Gary’s take: “Kristopher’s the technical wizard—hand him a messy spreadsheet and he lights up.” More seriously, Gary names “consistency” as their shared strength: being the dependable welcome on Wednesdays.

Quick hits: Planner vs. improviser? “Kristopher plans; I improv,” Gary says. Early or late shift? “Night owls.” Best volunteer snack? “Bronze Café.” One song that captures The Center? Kristopher: “We’re Not Gonna Take It.” Gary: “We Are Family.” One word they hope people feel at the door? Kristopher: “Community.”

As for the award, they’re grateful—and eager for the spotlight to keep lifting volunteers whose fingerprints are everywhere. “We’re not trying to fill Russell’s shoes—no one could,” Gary says. “But we can do the work in front of us, and make sure others who do it are seen.”

Their final ask is simple: show up. Two hours. A phone shift. A last-minute pivot. A spreadsheet. Tiny acts that add up.

“And hey,” Kristopher grins, “you might get a bear hug on your way in.”