My Thoughts and Feelings in the Wake of the Orlando Shooting

Today is my mom’s birthday.  I woke up and called her and, as part of a cheesy family tradition, answered the phone with a perfectly out of tune rendition of “Happy Birthday” followed up by a bonus track of “How Old Are You Now”.  She responded by telling me that 50 people were killed in a gay bar last night in Orlando.  A mass shooting. 

Today I deleted the Facebook app off of my phone.  As a very stereotypical millennial I did not think that this day would ever come.  But after the 10th or 11th time of opening Facebook, more out of habit then a desire to see anyone’s latest profile picture, and being confronted by countless articles, status’s, words of grief, of fear, of xenophobia, of homophobia, of pain, of a country at war with itself, I deleted the app. 

50 people killed. 53 injured.  103 families.  But grief radiates out from the victims, it does not stay contained. 

My mind feels blank and numb.  There’s a dull ache in the back threatening to burst open.  And I can feel myself actively trying to stop that dam from coming down.  Because I don’t know how to process something like this.  The skills to handle emotions this intense and this painful just aren’t there.

Today a friend texted me: “Did you hear about Orlando??” My response? “Yes, horrible.”

It is almost comical that all I could muster were two words.  But comical in a sick, twisted sense because I am bursting on the inside with so many words and feelings and I don’t know how to arrange them into coherent sentences or thoughts or productive actions.  Instead they are reeking havoc within me and when I open my mouth to speak all that comes out is “Yes, horrible.”

I have the tendency to act very callous when something feels so tragic to me that I don’t have the means to engage it.

Today, my DukeEngage group came together to reflect and try to put words to what had happened, to what we were feeling.  One of our program directors staged the question: “Have any of you talked to your parents about this today?”

My mind flashed back to my birthday call to my mom this morning.  A call in which she was supportive and comforting, felt the depth of the pain that I was experiencing, and provided me with a safety net in the midst of tragedy. 

A friend began to talk.  Her parents are here now, visiting San Francisco.  She’s out to them but I got the sense they haven’t totally accepted her sexuality.  “An ongoing conversation we aren’t having,” is the way she phrased it.  She said that in talking to her parents, they had expressed their hope that the deaths of 53 others would finally be enough to scare her out of being gay. 

Another friend: My dad reminded me that any person choosing to enter a gay bar was choosing to enter a protest, and as a result voluntarily putting themselves at risk.  She reminded her dad that being bisexual, she was a regular at gay bars herself.  Maybe not in Orlando, but the sentiment still applies.  His response? Well maybe it’s time to stop. 

Victim blaming and fear mongoling are NO response to a tragedy of such caliber.  It is our job to band together in support, to hold close the community that has been stricken by this hate crime. 

And in the brink of all of this, I felt overwhelmingly lucky.  My moms have never been anything but supportive of me.  And then I felt overwhelmingly scared, because my moms, the two people I hold dearest and love most in this world, were inadvertently the targets of this crime.  A crime against the gay and lesbian community feels like a personal offense against my family and my moms.  And then, for the first time today, I started to cry. 

 

That’s really all I can muster right now.  I’m having a hard time even putting pen to paper.  I wish there was something active I could do.  I feel the need to stand and act rather than sit and think.  The more I think the more I am overwhelmed with the number of thoughts pulsing through me.  Gun control, xenophobia, victim blaming, Donald Fucking Trump.  How, to make it by in this world, it seems like you just have to get really lucky and hope tragedy doesn’t strike too close to home.  How that is so insanely random and terrifying that I don’t know what to do next. I'm conflicted by the impulse to call everyone I love, to keep them safe, to fight hatred with the strength of community, and the desire to just scream and rant and make sure everyone knows what a truly fucked up world we are living in.  But instead, I am sitting in my bed thinking about how, from now on, my mom’s birthday is going to be tainted as the anniversary of 53 deaths. And that thought is sad enough to keep the anger at bay for now. 


My family's response:
I felt this was worth publishing because it gives further insight into collective grief and processing- and the familial context that I am coming from when writing.

Hi Jess,

I'm so glad you put your feelings into words. Very poignant and your piece made me cry because you are now completely aware of the depths of hatred in this world. Not that you weren't before, but it seems like you're seeing and feeling it at a deeper level now, and for sure, expressing it so articulately.

 I think this whole horrible tragedy is hitting me worse this morning as I'm slowly able to process the magnitude of the attack.

I am overwhelmed with grief and I fear for gays, our country, the world and, now -- you too -- since you're working at the SF LGBT Center.    Please be very vigilant if you see something amiss, some package unattended, some person spewing unintelligible bigoted words. Be mindful of those around you and whether they have a legitimate reason to be at the Center. Please ask them if they are doing anything to increase security and let us know.

But while you figure that out, dear Jessie, think about being that loud cis gendered woman that you are and what you can do to advocate for those in need who walk through the doors at the LGBT center. You can make a difference in combating hate against the LGBT community this summer doing the work you are doing! Don't hold back!! Do everything you can to make this world a less hateful place.

Love,
Mama

Jess,

 

Wow, mama really said it all. I feel very similar to how she feels and what she expressed. I had started to write to back before clients this morning so here I what I have to share as well. 

Thank you for sharing your feelings with us. I totally understand the onslaught of chaotic feelings and numbness at the same time. It's hard to take in the breadth of what happened yesterday all at once. It's way too much for anyone, especially those who have a personal connection to the LGBTQ community. 

I understand and have similar feelings around wanting to keep love ones close and shake the world and say wake up, stop the fear of difference and stop the hating. I'm sorry this happened, I'm sorry this happened on my birthday but I have become very strong and can have many conflicting feelings and can choose where I put my focus. I don't have to deny my feelings, any of them, I can have them all, just not at the very same time. That trips my circuits. Over time, I will and I believe you will have and sort out all sorts of feelings and impulses. I wish the world  were further along in acceptance of all people as they are but although we've come a long way since the early 80's when mama and I were coming out, there is more distance to cover and more work to be done. 

I am pained to hear the responses of the parents of you fellow duke engage students. I'm very glad they are part of the duke engage program which allows them to mobilize and act in support of the LGBTQ community and themselves. 

What I have found is that these sort of attacks bring communities together in love and solidarity and have strengthened my resolve to stand up and not shrink in fear but to live stronger and be out and proud. Being gay and Jewish has given me many opportunities to say never again, not without a fight!

I agree with mama, keep your eyes and ears open and stay aware to the best of your ability and be aware of your surroundings and safety. 

I love you very much, I couldn't be more proud of you and the adult you are becoming. Keep writing, keep looking inward, because taking the time to look inward, is the opposite of thoughtless reactivity and ultimately better informs our beliefs and actions.

Talk to you later. 

Love you

Mom