Wondering if there will be calls and banners, “We are Pulse”. When they come for a gay night club, “We are all gay.”
Wondering if there will be calls and banners, “We are all Latinx”. It was Latinx night at Pulse.
I feel just nauseous even wondering. It forces tears into my eyes. It’s not like the solidarity with victims wasn’t already abundantly selective. Any Arab or Islamic target barely registered.
At least the bomb in the local Target appeared to have been random and not hate-related. The woman who did that is rather opaque on motivation.
What a mixed up day, emotionally. We’re on vacation. It’s the second anniversary of me informing my office of my transition. It’s even a planned event, Children’s Day, making the day special for children of all ages…
And I wake up to read that overnight we had the worst shooting spree in U.S. history at an Orlando gay night club, and they’re trying to decide if it’s a hate crime or domestic terrorism. Like it could be decided cleanly and easily between the two. Like you could take a scalpel to the two problems. Which… they do. On one side, you describe the assailant one way, minimizing the threat, and on the other, you describe them completely differently, maximizing the threat. And it’s all just mixed together there, imagining the futures that aren’t, imagining the futures of those that know them, and reading the trail left on the airwaves.