Orlando

[justinok]

OK so I've really struggling after the weekend and Orlando. Not just the event itself, which is unimaginably horrible, but what it represents. Clubs like Pulse were the only place I could find sanctuary when I was younger, where I could be myself and not be afraid. For someone to come into that safe place and violently murder people like me... and then to read that he was supposedly set off because he had seen two men kissing public a few weeks earlier. I just don't know what the world is coming to some days. Some of the comments online from people saying 'great that they're attacking perverts now instead of innocent people' was just the icing on the cake. It's been a horrible weekend.

[Kazzl]

It's been a heartbreaking weekend Justin. And the implications are still sinking in. Please look after yourself and I hope you will take comfort from those you love and who love you. And please know that so very many people are with you.

Much love and respect

Kaz

[Gruffudd]

I think the only comfort I noticed is that I reacted to those messages as being like the past which means that many have moved on and things are better then they were, I expect better.

But, I don't have much I can say on the events themselves, too hard. The horror of what could happen here. I remember the impact that the murder of Matthew Shepherd had on me. Same age, same situation living in a small university town, even been beaten up by the local boys a couple of times. It could easily have been me. I think it matters that we have a community where we have all survived and prospered despite the odds, and we will keep on doing that and working on making it better for the next generation.

Rob.

[justinok]

Thank you Kaz and Rob. I have seen so many of my friends devastated by this, and some people might struggle to understand why. I saw a post online that I'm going to copy here because it really sums it up for me:

"Earlier today, a friend remarked: "I don't understand. The way you are reacting, it's almost like you knew someone in the club."Here's the thing you need to understand about every LGBT person in your family, your work, and your circle of friends:We've spent most of our lives being aware that we are at risk.When you hear interviewers talking to LGBT folks and they say "It could have been here. It could have been me," they aren't exaggerating.

I don't care how long you've been out, how far down your road to self acceptance and love you've traveled, we are always aware that we are at some level of risk.I'm about as "don't give a shit what ANYONE thinks" as anyone you'll ever meet... and when I reach to hold Matt's hand in the car? I still do the mental calculation of "ok, that car is just slightly behind us so they can't see, but that truck to my left can see right inside the car". If I kiss Matt in public, like he leaned in for on the bike trail the other day, I'm never fully in the moment. I'm always parsing who is around us and paying attention to us.

There's a tension that comes with that... a literal tensing of the muscles as you brace for potential danger. For a lot of us, it's become such an automatic reaction that we don't even think about it directly any more. We just do it.And then... over the last few years, it started to fade a little. It started to feel like maybe things were getting better. A string of Supreme Court decisions. Public opinion shifting to the side of LGBT rights. Life was getting better. You could breathe a little bit.

What happened with this event is pretty dramatically demonstrated by how Matt and I are reacting to it. Matt came out fairly late, during the golden glow of the changing tide. He's never dealt with something like this. It's literally turned him inside out emotionally because all that stuff he read about that was just "then" became very much "NOW".

For me, I've had some time to adjust to the idea that people hate us enough to kill us. Matthew Shephard was my first real lesson in that. So this weekend was a sudden slap in the face, a reminder that I should never have let my guard down, should never have gotten complacent... because it could have been US.

cont...

[justinok]

Every LGBT person you know knows what I'm talking about. Those tiny
little mental calculations we do over the course of our life add up...
and we just got hit with a stark reminder that those simmering concerns,
those fears... they probably won't ever go away. We'll never be free of
them. Additionally, now we just got a lesson that expressing our love
could result in the deaths of *others* completely unrelated to us. It's
easy to take risks when it's just you and you've made that choice. Now
there's this subtext that you could set off someone who kills other
people who weren't even involved. And that's just a lot.That's
why I'm personally a bit off balance even though (or because, depending
on how you look at it) I live in Texas and was not personally effected
by this tragedy. Don't get me wrong: nothing will change. I will still
hold my husband's hand in public. I will still kiss him in public. We'll
still go out and attend functions and hold our heads high.But we will
be doing those mental calculations for the rest of our lives. Those
little PDAs you take for granted with your spouse. They come with huge
baggage for us. Every single one is an act of defiance, with all that
entails.So do me a favor. Reach out to that LGBT person in your life.
Friend, co-worker, or family. Just let them know you are thinking of
them and you love them. That will mean the world to them right now. I
promise you.

[Chris_B]

If you have time to watch, Anderson Cooper paid an emotional tribute to each and every one of the victims on CNN. So many lives shattered:

[Paul]

We're all grieving right now and it's only just starting to hit me.

Loss of life, loss of community, loss of personal freedom and safety.

I can only encourage everyone affected by the events in Orlando or even the media beat ups or right wing celebrations to do what we know best.

Look after our emotional health through difficult times and talk to friends, family or the beyondblue family here.

It's safe to express yourself in any way you like here, so please talk.

Yours in solidarity

Paul

[Gruffudd]

Paul, what it brings up for me is the violence that happens to people we know out of the same kind of attitudes that were behind this in Orlando, of course I am thinking of them but also emphasising out of all too real experience. Our fellow champion Clair has been through so much in the last year. I have had my own experiences further in the past. If I think of my LGBTQ friends the list starts to get rather long. Most of those incidents could have been worse. Justin reblogged about second guessing, I do that, I have since I can remember. I think it will take more time and have more of an impact then I expected when I first heard of the news.

[Paul]

I echo your sentiments Rob. I think it's going to take a while for us all to get through the grief in whatever for it takes and for reasons personal and public.

Xx

[DrTom]

The atrocity in Orlando has really knocked me out of orbit. I'm still trying to understand why, but I think some elements are floating to the surface. Since I came out, about four and a half years ago, I have rarely felt unsafe because I am gay. There are some places I wouldn't go, perhaps, and some places where I wouldn't hold my partner's hand in public, but not many, and those I can avoid. Likewise, there are lots of hurtful words around; I'm lucky to work in a workplace where there is no obvious homophobia, and I haven't hidden my identity, and no one seems to have an issue with it; the hateful words of some in the media, I can hear or not hear pretty much at my own choosing. And I have often been at gay venues, and felt that this was a comfortable place among safe people. Indeed, it's often been a place of retreat - away from coping with the demands of being a gay parent in a straight world, and being a gay scientist in a straight workplace (though as noted my colleagues are awesome, but I'm still in their world, in that place). The event at the Orlando club blows that safety wide open. It feels like there is little more than a paper screen between me and the hate that exists out there. It feels like my safety is at the whim of straight people. I think this is why every time a straight friend has said something to me in the last day or two, I tear up. Except at work where I held it in, until it became too exhausting and I had to escape. And yet, I don't actually feel afraid. I think I feel vulnerable, not afraid. Vulnerable because my safety relies on a bulwark of straight allies, who are awesome, but stand between me and a bunch of pretty nasty people. I'm coming to understand this from a helpful article, which describes how there is no real dividing line between marginalising LGBTI people, and the kind of atrocity we have seen. Yes, they lie at different ends of a spectrum, but it is a spectrum of degree, not different essential character. And that while we allow language that denigrates LGBTI people, we enable the whole spectrum. As David Morrison put it: the standard you walk past is the standard you accept.

I've taken a few days off work at the suggestion of my GP, and will reflect and process, and hopefully in a few days re-enter the fray. I'm a scientist. I want to understand myself, and the world around me, and in my quirky individual way I will.