On Sunday morning, June 12 about 7 a.m, I walked downstairs to notice I had an unusual amount of notifications on Facebook and an email from The Center’s Board President, Tim Vargas time stamped at 6:30 a.m.: “Dr. Dave, give me a call as soon as you can.”
I don’t even know what time it was when I got there. I got a great parking place, so it must have been early. The rest of the day was a fluid haze. So many people coming to The Center. They came because they needed to connect and there didn’t seem a more appropriate place to go than our Center. The back alley was a parade of vehicles over the next several days of trunks opening and stores and food being taken out. Whenever there is tragedy or death, the food just comes. It’s our attempt to make sense of the unthinkable.
I’ve been trained in disaster response through the American Red Cross, so I knew (for the most part) what to do: Lindsey Kincaide and I established an online data base with volunteer counselors, Logan Donahoo messaged me and asked me if we needed First Unitarian Church (we did), so we set up a mental health counseling center and base of operations there. We mobilized over 500 volunteer counselors to provide around the clock services at The Center, the emergency counseling center at First Unitarian, Hope & Help, the Zebra Coalition’s crisis hotline, The Parliament House, Southern Nights and Savoy. Two Spirit Health Services, the non-profit LGBT medical clinic I founded and currently run, has set up aftercare plans for the short- and long-term medical and mental health care of our community. During these last two weeks of June, our entire community has been in survival mode. The holiday gods have blessed us this year with having July 4 fall on a Monday and you may be wondering as you wake up on Tuesday, July 5, “What do we do now?”
You
You must focus on yourself. I’ve talked to LGBT people who didn’t directly know anyone injured or killed. They don’t know why they are struggling and they feel guilty. They shouldn’t. I’ve talked to our allies who have been with us for many years wonder whether or not they have a right to say they are a part of our community and whether or not they have a right to feel pained. They do. I’ve given so much press over the last few weeks and I find myself explaining to reporters over and over again that even though we may not all get along, even though we may not understand each other, our roots run deep into the same tree. We all hurt, because we all have been hurt. Not just hurt, you may be feeling a mixture of emotions: guilt, anger, sadness, fear, confusion, disillusionment, shock, numbness – all of the above. Blanche Devereaux referred to this raw feeling as “Magenta”. If you need help, get it. Aside from Two Spirit Health Services, people are ready to support you. Most of it is free. Take it.
For a lot of us, the “magenta” will fade over time. The pressures of modern life will tempt you to go back to your routine. Take July 5 as an opportunity to invest in yourself. If you are living your life for someone else’s expectations of who they want you to be, take a stand for yourself and live authentically. Yes, things will have to change, some of them will be uncomfortable, but it will be worth it.
Community
The issue of gay adoption came up in a psych class in my undergrad program. It was about 1993. I was still in the Navy then, so not “officially” out. As I tried to disappear in my chair, a student across the room passionately and vehemently spoke out against gay people parenting children. Some other people defended the idea. It got quite heated. Sometime in the weeks following, I run into him in the gay bar. He recognizes me from class and starts speaking to me. I asked him why he did that in class. “look around you,” He explained. “I don’t have any problem being gay, but these people are a bunch of sad freaks. Drag Queens and alcoholics have no place raising children.” With a wisdom I did not even know I possessed, I said, “You will never be able to love yourself unless you can love the drag queen or the alcoholic. We’re all a part of the same group.” I’m normally not that preachy to people, but I’m not sorry I said it. I have always remembered that moment and tried to live by it. You can’t love everyone individually. Some people are just mean, or thoughtless, and don’t care about it. But I’ve dedicated myself to loving this Orlando LGBT community for a very long time. I’ve seen a lot of signs posted around about “more love and less hate.” But how does that translate into daily action? We are not all the same, and we often don’t agree, but we are in this together. So love the drag queen and don’t demean what she does for a living. It may not be art to you, but it’s art to someone. Don’t dismissively call the bear fat. Don’t tell the bisexual to “pick a side.” Don’t deride the lesbian because she’s either too feminine or too masculine. Don’t say “tranny” and don’t ask a trans person if they’ve had the surgery. Those attitudes are all derived of internalized sexism. Give it up and let people be who they are. While we’re at it, when you are wrong and/or have offended someone in some way, why be defensive or explain yourself? Apologize and move on. Being wrong is not the end of the world. When you are kind to others, it’s easier to be kind to yourself.
Greater meaning
“How are people managing their spiritual beliefs and wondering how God allowed this?” a reporter asked me.
“I’m not sure many of us are even thinking that. The two institutions that have created the most difficulty for the LGBTQ community are the government and the church. We have an inherent distrust of them. Rather than change things, I think it will affirm those beliefs. For many of us who have felt rejected by God, God is not who we look to for meaning.”
Gay bars have often been our church. We go there to build family, community, be ourselves and find connection. This is why it hurts so much, Pulse is not just a bar. It’s our family. So how do we find meaning in this. I also told the reporter I look to my Buddhist teachings which help me to first reconcile what I want versus what is. I don’t want 49 of my LGBTQ brothers and sisters to have been slaughtered in their safe haven. I can’t change what is. The more I can accept that, then I can heal. Meaning lies in making their lives matter. They were our babies. They will never change the world for the better, but we can change it for them. You just have to decide what change you want to see and want to be. For me, that’s easy. My purpose has always been giving LGBTQ people healthcare they trust will not discriminate or abuse them. It is just more so now. #myheartbeats4them.
Watermark spoke to a number of community leaders about how to move forward. Read their responses.
