The last few weeks have been incredibly difficult for me. Sorrow, grief, frustration, sadness, loneliness, anger. Things have not been "well with my soul" .
Where do I go to? Who are my friends? Where is my family? Where is my safe space? Who am I? Why am I here?
Tengo Coraje...I am angry.
These have been my feelings and questions the past several weeks as a person of color, a person of faith, as a Latinx and as a Queer Latinx who calls Columbus, Ohio his home.
In the midst of tragedy and loss, of sorrow, of anger, I go inside. Deep inside myself where I painfully experience the full weight of these emotions and questions.
In my process of going inside, I’ve had conversations with other Queer Latinx, with friends, with allies and it has become clear once again that many of us are carrying the weight of these questions.
But be clear, I’m talking about the weight of these questions as a so called, "marginalized people". As brown people, as Queer Brown people, as Communities of Color. Often it feels like we have no place to go and often it is because we don’t, especially right here in Columbus, Ohio.
I never speak for my community but I feel right sharing that this is an incredibly difficult moment in the Queer Latinx community. We are in deep pain. We are in deep sorrow.
Oscar Montero, Enrique Rios, Javier Reyes. Jean Rodriquez. Rodolfo Anaya. Juan Velasquez, Juan Guerrero, Frank Hernandez, Juan Martinez, Simon Fernandez, Martin Torres, Peter Gonzalez- Cruz
These are but a few names of lives lost forever. I may not know them but I recognize their surnames and their faces. These are Latinx who were mostly Puerto Rican, some had partners, some died with their partners, some were there on the “down low”…exploring who they really are through music, dance, color and collective community and in secrecy. Some had children and some were undocumented migrants.
Black, Brown, and White they were. Most were Latino, Latinx...Black, Brown, White.
There are so many complexities to this tragedy most of us aren’t hearing, considering, understanding and certainly not inviting the space for conversation and grief.
Spaces, like at Pulse Latino nights are sacred spaces for our community still. They’re spaces of respite, of safety, of camaraderie, of community of solidaridad. Because we don’t have other spaces for this. Other places that play our music and where we dance merengue, bachata and cumbias. Places where we can dance to our music, in our language: literally or metaphorically. These are places where we find our Queer Familia because often our family does not accept us or those we love as partners.
Mainstream White Gay organizations expect us to acculturate to some kind of white gayness that erases who we really are while they exploit our intellect, culture and story. They include our story as an after thought or when convenient to their campaigns. There are few gay organizational spaces that provide relevant and real time specific programming/services for basic things we need.
Often we are not welcome in places like churches, temples, mosques, places of faith. And if we are, we have to protest loudly to be invited, to be included.
So places like Pulse become sacred spaces, they become the pulse of our identity. Now these spaces are threatened, now we have to think twice before we enter these spaces, when they’re already far and few between, when we’re already under vigilance. When we’re already over policed, when we’re already feeling that our lives are threatened due to state violence, interpersonal violence, domestic violence, gun violence, racism, deportation, gentrification, arrest.
Now, now, NOW...Where do we go?
All this is happening amidst a growing conservative movement that has demonized us, names us as public enemies in our own hometowns and homes and draws the blueprint for white supremacist, homophobic, and transphobic attacks, violence, and now extermination that many of us have been fighting. But also, it's happening amidst a neo-liberal movement when our "progressive" allies appropriate our identity, culture, labor and resources for their profit for our vote and for preserving their power.
Meanwhile the media gets the story wrong by ignoring racialized violence based on gender and sexuality and replacing it with profit-driven motives that rely on inaccurate racialized profiles of Islam and Muslims. erasing the Latinx thread to this story.
The good news is that our community of Latinx are resilient. We will keep pushing, fighting, agitating and creating our own spaces of power, inclusion and respite. This resiliency comes from many places. For some of us it comes from faith. Faith in ourselves, faith in our families, faith in our history, our culture, faith in the hope and love that is in our blood, our body, our soul and our story as a people.
Our liberation and freedom will come from a collective resistance. One that intersects with all fights for freedom. That's what a Latinx is to me.
Today, I amplify the stories of our people, both the living and the dead. I’m here because I know that queer people. Latinx people, people of faith (however you define that) are brave, we are strong, we are resilient. But this is also a call to action embedded in power filled questions:
What will it take to build a safety many of us have never experienced?
What would we need to call on each other instead of the police?
What would it take to have saved every person inside of Pulse?
How do we hold the cultural and political architects of this deliberate tragedy accountable?
What’s it going to take to start or continue with this fight right here in Columbus, Ohio?
What will victory look, smell, sound, taste and feel like?
What are you willing to do? To give up, to make it happen?
As the national media winds blow to the next story, I pray we will continue to ask ourselves these questions. We must keep learning, side by side with each other and all with those affected by this tragedy.
In Spanish the word "Coraje" means 1) ANGER but it also means 2) COURAGE. We must hold the corroboration and collusion of these emotions.
As for me, I will continue, to fight until things are "well with my soul" and with the soul of my community.
Soy #Queer y #Latinx #HastaLaVictoriaSiempre
