I have cried every day since last Sunday.
I view what happened in Orlando as a deep, painful rupture of our humanness. 49 beautiful lives are gone. To say that this breaks my heart is a complete understatement.
As with all tragedies I’ve experienced over that last few years– the public and the private– I am shocked that the world has the audacity to keep spinning. In a few short days, we’ve turned from outrage at the shootings in Orlando to the regular drone of pointlessness that is American pop culture. The only related trending topic in my FB feed this morning was about JK Rowling sending flowers to victims. That’s nice of her and all… but.. What the actual f@ck, people?!
As much as this is devastating to me as a fellow human, I recognize that my friends and family who are gay experience this tragedy on a different level. I’ve done my best to avoid knee jerk reactions, to sit back and listen, to offer support when I can. I struggle to find the *right* words to say, worrying that I’ll contribute to hurt and fear instead.
Then I realized that perhaps my relative silence was part of the problem, because the rest of the world seems to be going silent or brushing this under the rug. I don’t want to be complicit.
Growing up, I went to a Quaker school. If you don’t know, Quaker service revolves around the act of silence. Imagine getting school kids to sit still for any period of time… Yeah, it was a challenge. And yet, it taught me that there is a value to periods of reflection, and there is a value to finding your voice and speaking from the silence.
My first instinct is Love. Because that has been my saving grace so many times before. It isn’t much, but it’s a place to start.