By now you've likely heard about the mass shooting at Club Q, an LGBTQIA+ nightclub in Colorado Springs, where five people were killed and 25 others were wounded by a heavily-armed gunman on the eve of Transgender Day of Remembrance.
On Sunday morning, I woke up to a text message from my sister with the news and then had to sit with the heaviness of yet another tragedy in my community as I attended a drag brunch at a lesbian-owned establishment in a conservative city and state (exactly the kind of place that could be targeted by a homophobic shooter).
Intellectually, I understand why there are people who want queer and trans folks dead.
I understand how anti-LGBTQIA+ rhetoric spewed by hateful politicians to further their careers translates into real-world danger for queer people.
I understand that when people are perfectly comfortable leaving me comments on social media calling me a groomer, a sinner, and an abomination to womanhood, it's an indicator that something insidious is simmering in plain view and will eventually boil over.
I understand that homophobia and transphobia are unequivocally linked to patriarchy and misogyny and white supremacy and that some people will do almost anything if they feel their way of life, their security, and their power are being threatened.
I understand that if you say a lie enough times, with enough conviction, and without meaningful pushback, some people will believe the lie as truth. And if those believers repeat the lie enough times, with enough conviction, and without meaningful pushback, many more people will believe the lie as truth. And the web will keep expanding until the lie inevitably becomes the justification for prejudice and violence.
I understand that many more of us have died indirectly at the hands of homophobic and transphobic citizens, churches, and governments than will ever be fully known due to a long and painful history of harm to our community that makes us sick, prematurely ages us, and sometimes makes living so miserable that it may feel easier to refuse to keep on doing it.
But in my heart? I will never actually understand.
I will never understand how queer people are seen as unholy and unnatural when the immense love I feel for my partner is the holiest and most natural thing I've ever felt in my entire life and regularly brings me to my knees.
I will never understand how drag performers are smeared as being unsafe and obscene when I have witnessed entire rooms lit up in unabashed joy and awe in their presence because they are one of the closest things we have to real-life magic.
I will never understand how trans and non-binary people are so deeply misunderstood and maligned when the light they emanate from within when they're able to live as their true selves is warmer and more lovely than any blanket I've ever wrapped around me or cup of tea I've sipped.
I will never understand how people are intent on destroying our community gathering spaces when their disgust and distaste for seeing us out in the open are the reason we had to build them apart from everyone else in the first place.
I refuse to understand because it is beyond comprehension that we as a community should ever be targeted for how we choose to live and love.
It is beyond comprehension that Raymond Green Vance, Kelly Loving, Daniel Aston, Derrick Rump, and Ashley Paugh will not get to live the long, full, beautiful lives they deserved.
For as much as these kinds of tragedies in the LGBTQIA+ community "make sense," the truth is, they make no fucking sense at all.
Queerly yours,
Shohreh
p.s. To my queer family: Hold each other close. Check in on your people. We need each other more than ever.
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