My friend Amy Flower (what a cool name, right?) wrote this post yesterday. Her post is like many I’ve seen in my feed recently, filled with hurt and even completely valid anger.
Please take a moment to hear Amy out and lean IN to her pain instead of turning away from it. I know it’s sometimes hard to look at someone’s pain. It can be as painful and uncomfortable as looking into the sun, but unlike looking into the sun, when you look away your vision will be clearer. You will see and understand things you didn’t see and understand before, and this is how we cultivate empathy and change the world.
Your silence is deafening. I see your lack of acknowledgment of the Pulse attack in Orlando, but watch your devastation over the toddler and singer from The Voice dying. I agree both are horrible tragedies, one a terrible act of violence. However, how can you completely ignore 50 lives being taken and over 50 more being changed forever? Why are you too busy posting photos of your everyday life or memes as if the world and our country’s history didn’t just change forever? There is so much action to be taken around this tragedy. If there is one thing we can learn from this, it’s that life is short. If you don’t have the dignity to show compassion or respect for the victims, then I don’t want you in my life. This act of hate is more than just another massacre, it’s a magnification of the injustices faced by a whole group of people. I am one of those people. My wife is one of those people. My friends are those people. My co-workers and some of my family members are those people. I see you. I see your apathy and it is absolutely crippling. Sometimes a lack of action and silence is far more hurtful than one could even imagine.
I know I said this week I wanted you to hear from voices of my LGBTQ friends and their parents, that my thoughts and feelings needed to wait, but sometimes my thoughts and feelings consume me until I can express them. Last night I couldn’t sleep so I posted the following to FaceBook. Many friends asked if they could share and I’m more comfortable sharing it this way than making my post public. So, stay tuned and I will continue adding stories from friends this week, but first, I had to get something off of my chest:
It’s 3:40am. I’ve been awake since 1:30am. My mind can’t rest. I toss and turn in bed and think, “What can I do? How can I help?”
Straight friends, I know many of you don’t understand why the shooting in Orlando was such a big deal to me and LGBTQ people outside of Orlando. Even my husband didn’t quite understand at first, bless him. When I told him I would be postponing my plans to go shopping on Sunday so I could check on my friends and take care of what I consider to be MY community, every bit as much as my church community is MY community, he gently asked me why we would be so devastated and physically distraught when it didn’t happen here. I knew empathy is not his strongest point and sometimes he has to have feelings explained, so I gently looked at him with tears brimming and said, “It could have been them. It could have been me. It could have been here.” Continue reading It Could Have Been Us→
This morning as I reflected on what I felt like I needed to say about the Orlando shooting and the effect that horrific event and the aftermath are having in my circles, I realized the voices I want many to hear are not my own. Since I’ve been doing advocacy work for and with the LGBTQ community for the past couple of years as a straight ally, my Friends List on FaceBook (and in real life) is quite diverse and my FB feed most likely looks a little different than many of my straight, white (and also not trans) friends. My feed is FILLED with the shock, anger, fear, pain and resilience of a diverse community. Sure there are things that I want and need to say about this all, but I have the privilege and the platform, and with that the responsibility, to be able to amplify the voices of those from whom the world needs to hear. Continue reading Voices: Chris’s Story→
We have an activity in our GLSEN* Professional Development called Earliest Messages. Through it we explore our biases or acceptance of concepts around diversity based on the messages we received from our family/friends/teachers/society growing up. Because I’m often asked why I do this advocacy work and HOW it came to be that I’ve always thought diversity should be celebrated when I say, “I’ve always thought diversity should be celebrated,” I’m often thinking about the earliest messages I received.
Sometimes something brings back an early message in it’s entirety and I think, “Aha! That was it! That was my earliest message about…”
People need your help. I’m begging for your help (and I don’t often beg). At the end of this post I will give you some concrete ways that you can help, but first, let me explain:
I awoke from a dream this weekend in which I was crying hot, angry, frustrated tears. In the dream my face was drenched in them and I couldn’t wipe them all away. In the dream I felt completely and utterly defeated because despite my every attempt to advocate for people, many of my own friends didn’t see many of my other friends as people who deserved the same rights and freedoms that they themselves took for granted. I was beyond frustrated that I didn’t know how to help move more people toward action. Then I woke up and I was still heartbroken and frustrated, because it wasn’t just a dream.
With so many reminders to “Never Forget” today, I’ve spent some time considering the things that I want to remember. I think as with any anniversary of death, loss, trauma, that there is a process that one must go through to be able to remember what’s worth remembering. When you’ve been terrorized, it’s natural to feel like a victim. Crushed, defeated, sad beyond words, broken. That is no place to stay, though. It’s terrifying and lonely. So it’s the moments when you rally and move from victim to survivor that are worth remembering. Continue reading Rising Out of the Ashes→
I saw the demon. Got a glimpse of it when it attacked. Now it’s infecting my mind space. It’s digging in its talons. Icy tendrils of adrenaline wrap around my organs. Eyes widen. My heart rate spikes. My breathing becomes quick and shallow. Every fiber of my body tells me I’m under attack. “Flee or fight!” it screams! And I do the only thing I can do. I fight. Continue reading Anxiety→
I first saw hate up close and personal in my early teens. I intervened when a couple of guys from school decided it was a good day to beat up one of my best friends because they perceived him as being gay. Did you get that? They didn’t know, they just assumed, and they deemed him worthy of a beating because of it.
This book. Woah. It almost rendered me speechless. Almost. It also almost made me ugly cry on the plane a half dozen times. Almost. The fact is, Glennon Melton Doyle, author of Carry On, Warrior and my favorite blog, Momastery, superbly took all the feels straight out of my heart and put WORDS to them! WORDS! Brilliant, riveting, funny, emotional words that give substance to all the love I want to show to and share with the world and don’t know how to express!!