But sometimes you move to San Francisco or wherever San Francisco is for you and you still die. Sometimes you find the community that could save you and you still die. Sometimes your straight mother is so supportive of your sexual orientation that she comes with you to the club and you live but she dies. LGBTQ folks have been attacked in our homes and gathering spaces for decades, and usually by people motivated by religious fervor, internalized homophobia or a perceived affront to their masculinity, even in “safe” places like New York, New Orleans, San Francisco, London, Minneapolis, Los Angeles, Atlanta and Seattle. Our nightclubs and meeting places have been bombed, burned down and bloodied. LGBTQ people have been killed by their own family members as recently as two months ago. More trans women — mostly trans women of color — were reported murdered in 2015 than in any year prior, and already 12 trans women have been murdered in 2016. Their killers have rarely, if ever, been brought to justice.
At Pulse Nightclub this weekend, men and women who had found their community were enjoying it during a month dedicated to being proud of who we are, rather than scared of what we fear we’ll never be. A crowd comprised mostly of Latinx LGTBQ people had come out to dance and celebrate and nearly 100 of them were shot while doing so, and half of them died. When you read the stories of the Orlando victims it is striking how they differ from those of LGBTQ people murdered fifty years ago, which were often sad and lonely and cut off from home — these are stories of happy people with jobs, full lives, friends, relationships, families who loved them and so many eager to tell reporters about their beloved humans. Things have gotten better, but things still aren’t good enough, because they still died. Because LGBT people remain the most common targets of hate crimes (particularly trans women of color).
This attack has inspired us all to discuss the importance of safe spaces, as if such a thing has ever existed, or could ever exist. No space is ever truly safe in every sense of the word, even the ones we create ourselves, even the ones comprised entirely of people “like us.” The most we can ask for, really, is Space, period. But we do need Space, and we do need Community, and we must demand and treasure it. We should be intentionally cultivating spaces of understanding until every queer and trans person can access them.
