BuzzFeed has an accounting of those killed. All or nearly all people of color.
“Hurry. He’s in the bathroom with us,” Justice texted his mother, Mina Justice.
via adrienne marie brown:
found this helpful – some practical tips from suzy steffan via my sci fi sister lisa bolekaja:
A few things straight cis or trans and non-straight cis people could do today and every day to support LGBTQIA people:
1. Listen to queer people.
2. Listen to queer people of color. This hate crime happened in diverse Orlando at Latinx night at the Pulse. That very much matters.
3. Text us, snapchat us, tweet us that you love us (do not include “no matter whom you love”) and you’re thinking about us today.
4. Don’t deny that this was a hate crime.
5. Don’t make this about Islam. It’s not. It’s about transphobia and homophobia. Oh, and access to AR-15s.
6. Ask local LGBTQIA groups how you can help.
7. Don’t accept one nanosecond, not ONE, of victim blaming from friends, relatives, or religious representatives.
8. If you go to church and your pastor doesn’t mention Orlando or does it in a hateful way, speak up right then or walk out at that moment, and find a new church. Same for any religious organization. You can help your religious organizations be better.
9. Donate blood *AND* tell the FDA to lift the ban on “men who have had sex with men” donating blood RIGHT NOW, as in RIGHT. NOW.
10. Trans and L/G/B cis people of color get killed at disgustingly high rates. You, yes, you, straight/cis people, *have to* speak out against HB 2 and all the other transphobic “bathroom bills” out there.
11. If you have money, you could send it to Orlando (if you don’t live there), or you could help fund your local QUILTBAG organizations. Some links in the comments.
12. If you don’t have money, which I *certainly* understand right now, get books by authors who identify as LGBTQIA out of the library, and recommend them to others.
13. You might, as I have this ugly awful morning, try to get your local politicians to support a vigil for the LGBTQIA communities.
13a. But when that vigil happens, listen to the community to see if we need you there. We might need you as a buffer zone. We’ll be holding each other and crying and singing. You be our security.
13b. Be sure to ask those politicians to get the buy-in of local grassroots and “official” queer/trans rights groups. It’s important for cities and states and the country to support us, but not without our organizations as well.
14. Read up on LGBTQIA herstory and history. (Some suggex in the comments, eventually.)
15. Post about Orlando. You don’t have to share the news stories, you don’t have to share the details, but show us that you see us and that you care about us. We see you when you don’t.
16. If you have QUILTBAG employees – and you do if you have employees! – check in with them today and in the next few days. Have their backs. Be prepared to help them out, to fill in (without asking them to give up paychecks).
17. If you have QUILTBAG students – and you do if you teach! – give them extra love and space to process. Not by singling them out, of course, but by publicly mentioning your horror at the hate crime and privately letting them know that they can take more time as they process.
“…The space outside the queer club has always been a dangerous one for trans and queer people, the space of transition from our safer space to a more dangerous one. Now the interior of the club is also a site of intersectional violence: queer, trans, Latinx, POC, white, cis folks were at that club. The sacred space has now been consecrated as a violent one. We still need queer clubs. We still need Pride in this county. We need folks to stop stoking fires about bathrooms, while we are being fired and fired upon. Sending love to Orlando. Sending love to queer folks. Sending love to queer Muslim folks who must be feeling a particular form of precarity today. Sending love to queer Latinx. Just sending love.”
What I wrote on Facebook:
“Queer Latina. Queer Black Latinx/LatiNegrx. Queer femme. Queer/Bi-femme. Queer Child of Chi. Queer and married to New Orleans. Queer and Ratchet. Queering Slavery. Queer Black Feminist. Queer Femme of Color. A thousand labels and intersections for naming me and people I’ve loved and who love me and who show up and who are kin and who are poly and monogamous and mothering and married and about that life and this work and none of us or them deserve to die, to be targets, to be prayed for as corpses and not as complicated, full, flawed, fleshy, breathing human bodies. And I believe in God and spirits so I won’t say keep your prayers (I want to, but something in me can’t). We just do the work, dammit. Do the fucking work. Grieving, but always grieving, for someone, somewhere, something that is trying to take us out. It’s almost like there is no space for this new tragedy, because the mourning just continues…but then there is space and the minutes pass and the world will move on so we do the work and we love our loves and we keep it moving. We dance. We pray. We jazz June. I adore you. Fam, we are in this. Stay. Together. Love you. 50 people….”