For Orlando

                Yesterday, tragedy struck the queer community. A lone gunman walked into a gay bar in Orlando, Florida, and committed the largest mass shooting and hate crime in American history. With his legally obtained assault rifle, he opened fire and killed 50 people, severely injuring 53 more. That morning 103 families were woken up to some of the worst news imaginable.

                The pain those families are going through is unimaginable, and the knowledge that their children died because of hate must only make it worse. I’ve always considered the queer community to be a family, because we are, and the news devastated me. I don’t know any of the victims, but yesterday I wept for hours because my family lost 50 brothers. I felt their deaths in my heart, and I wept. I could barely focus, and with each new piece of information, with each new tweet or message of support, my sorrow grew. I was heartened by the love and support I was seeing, but for each message of support there dozens of messages purporting hate. Fundamentalists saying that if “those people” weren’t gay it wouldn’t have happened! Racists coming out of everywhere shouting to get the Muslims out of their country. With each passing hour each side grew in numbers. To top it off, news agencies weren’t even calling it a gay bar. They were trying to downplay the hate crime and make it all about the shooter.

                The shooter doesn’t matter in this narrative, what matters is the people who were lost. Good men with families and friends and lovers. The incalculable number of people who were hurt by the hate. The brave people who went out to the vigils last night. The queer people, who with renewed fear in their hearts, stood proudly in the face of this hate and went out. The people who spent all day yesterday getting any and all information out. And most of all, the victims.

                This attack would be vile anytime of year, but the fact that it happened during pride month, a time when the queer community celebrates and feels safe, makes it all the worse. I was at a pride event on Saturday. I was on a euphoric high all day, and I woke Sunday still feeling the love! And then I saw the news. The transition was jarring. I got angry first. I lashed out at those responsible for the hate. I lashed out at the antiquated gun laws that allowed this to happen. Then I got bitter. And then, finally, I mourned for the loss of those 50 brothers I never got a chance to meet. I sat and wept, quietly and privately, for an hour or so. And then I acted. I spoke about the attack. I shared information. In the end, whatever contributions I made were small, but I did what my situation allowed me to do to help. To everyone who thinks that they did not do enough yesterday, so long as you spread love and support, not hate and bile, you did enough. If you made it through the day, you did enough.

                To the families of the victims, I cannot express my sympathy and empathy. I cannot imagine the loss you are feeling right now. You have my love.

                To the queer community, we are shaken right now. But we showed the world that we can endure horrific acts of hate without turning to violence. We showed the world that no matter what they do to us, we will still stand strong with our family. That we will continue to love and live. We showed the world that we are a family.

                I will continue to mourn the loss of my brothers, and I will live for them. I will go out with a renewed vigor and purpose. I will stand and speak for those who cannot. I will not forget this vicious attack on our family, but I will not react in violence, I will react in love. And I will continue to act in love so long as I live.

                Stay strong. Stay safe.

                All my love.