Dear Reader,
I’m sure you heard the news that last Saturday five people were killed and 17 were injured at ClubQ in Colorado Springs. If you visit ClubQ’s website, you’ll find a note that they’re closed until further notice, but you can also find their regular dinner menu.
ClubQ has a menu because it’s a place to hang out and spend time with people, and it turns out that LGBTQIA+ people will eat burgers with waffle fries and grilled cheese and spinach dip and chicken tenders, and sometimes we want to add chicken to our nachos or salad for an extra $2. Some of us are vegetarians who will opt for the Beyond burger, but some of us are unabashed carnivores who want our beef burger pink in the middle; and if you want to order your burger on the rare side, there’s that same warning on the menu that you’ll see in any other restaurant.
Probably there was someone on Saturday who placed their order and said, “Hold the pickle please,” and then their friend said, “Ooh, can I have their pickle?” and the first person said, “Oh, I didn’t know you like pickles! Yes, can they have my pickle?” and the waiter smiled and said, “Of course!”
Probably there was someone who said to their date, “Do you want to just split a couple appetizers?” and their date said, “Yeah, perfect. How about the super nachos for one? Does something else look good to you?”
Probably someone was thinking about getting that brownie sundae for dessert, and their friend said, “Do it! You only live once!”
There have been 612 mass shootings so far in 2022 in the US. The school shooting in Uvalde, Texas was May 24. From May 25 through November 18, there have been another 373 people killed in mass shootings, and 1,579 more people injured. On November 19, the same day as the ClubQ shooting, there were also two other mass shootings. One happened early in the first hours of the day, a little after midnight, at a bonfire in Mississippi where one person was killed and six injured. The other was a drive-by shooting in the afternoon in Illinois, where a 13-year-old kid was killed and three others injured. Since November 19, as of this writing, another 18 people have been killed in other mass shooting events, and another 29 have been injured. In the time that I’ve had a draft of this letter in progress, I’ve had to update these numbers twice because Americans keep shooting each other. You can find all this on the Gun Violence Archive’s list of mass shootings.
Other places in the world have state-sponsored terrorism, but here in the US, we’ve got that independent, do-it-yourself mentality. Bootstrap terrorism. It’s not that the state instigates violence against the people, heaven forbid. Those victims have our thoughts and prayers! It’s just an innocent coincidence that certain entrenched interests disproportionately benefit politically and financially every time gun violence reaches a new pitch.
The thing about being out as queer, gay, lesbian, bi, pan, trans, non-binary, gender fluid, genderqueer, ace, aro, and/or other identities and vocabulary embraced under the pride flag — the thing about being out is that you know it might make you the target of violence.
When I started dating the woman I ultimately married, Nunya1, I came out to my family right away as bisexual (like I finally got my bi-card punched, like Ok, I get to use this label now, like before I might have been faking it all those years merely admiring women but not wanting to date them), and I knew my family would be supportive. I came out to friends right away; I told my boss right away. I have been lucky and privileged to have about as open and welcoming a coming-out experience with everyone important in my life as it’s possible to have.
And I still knew that we could be subjected to violence. That I could be, I suppose, but it was the we that got to me. I don’t think I really told anyone at the time, but I grappled with intrusive thoughts big-time for at least the first several months that Nunya and I dated. I imagined her getting beat up or murdered, or her reaction to me getting beat up or murdered, or being forced to watch each other get beat up or murdered in assorted horrible ways.
I knew these thoughts weren’t real, but I also knew exactly where they were coming from. Plenty of queer people are subjected to violence. Horrible stories abound.
Some of our community would prefer to reject the term “queer” because of its use as a slur and its association with bigotry and violence. You can see that I am on the “reclaimed for the community” side — because I know some folks who strongly identify with that term and prefer it over others — but I am very respectful of the counterpoint. If a person feels that a term evokes the threat of violence, then it does a small violence to that person to use it.
This is why pronouns are so important — because willfully misgendering a trans or nonbinary or genderqueer person isn’t merely rude. It feels like a threat. When you have to fight for the recognition of your existence, and you live in a world where others feel entitled to openly deride and despise you, and you know that some of those people would happily see you brutalized or murdered, then yeah, being treated with basic respect and recognition for who you are as a person are pretty fucking important.
But there isn’t some magical “us” versus “them” line between the queer community and the threatening external world. Just as I had started to write a bunch of stuff about queer courage and resilience, I clicked through to a different article about the ClubQ shooting and finally learned that, oh, the shooter is a nonbinary person.
So. That sucks.
Definitely it unravels the whole set of assumptions I was making about what kind of homophobic bigot would shoot up a club for queer folks; but with that lesson, I’m also going to resist the temptation to construct a whole new imaginary narrative about what happened here. We make up these explanations to feel like we understand, to construct this illusionary shield of our pretended understanding, because maybe if we can explain why the bad thing happened, then the bad thing won’t happen to us, won’t happen in our safe spaces.
What happened is the same thing that has happened 611 other times so far in the US in 2022, which is that someone decided the solution to their problem was to shoot a bunch of people.
America, please stop romanticizing guns. Please.
The solution to the problem of violence is not more violence, the same way that the solution to the problem of plastic pollution is not more plastic, and the solution to the problem of carbon emissions is not more carbon, and the solution to economic inequity is not more billionaires.
Be kind. Be generous with other people, and be kind to yourself. Sometimes it’s the most disruptive, most revolutionary, most courageous thing you can do.
Ok, books. Ooh, actually I have a really good one to pivot to, on the theme of the revolutionary impact of kindness. If you are looking for a warm-hearted low angst read that is easy on plot and very beautifully steeped in time and place, allow me to recommend the recent release from Cat Sebastian, Daniel Cabot Puts Down Roots, set in 1973. Daniel and Alex fall into being friends joined at the hip after they meet by happenstance. Daniel is struggling with meaning and purpose after having been drafted then sidelined in a desk job, and building a neighborhood garden helps him start to feel like a real person again. Alex is a driven doctor who runs a local clinic along with his one other friend; he has Mary and his work and Daniel, and the idea of trying for more is a little terrifying. The characters are lovely, and the evocation of New York in 1973 is remarkable. This is a standalone read though it’s connected to the previous Cabot books, Tommy Cabot Was Here (a second-chance-at-love novella) and Peter Cabot Gets Lost (gorgeous classic road trip).
Not much else new in my world. Making slow progress on my writing. Had to take my car in thinking it might have some catastrophic wheel or bearing problem, and no, turns out the sound it was making was just probably the hubcap slowly falling off. Anticlimactic in the best possible way.
Hope you’re well. Take care of yourself, ok?
Love,
Beas
As in Nunya Business because don’t ask her about her business.
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