Our school’s response to the massacre in Orlando.
- C = colleague in the LGBT community
- F = childhood friend in the LGBT community
- DH = dear husband
Yesterday I told C, who reads my blog, that I wanted to post about the massacre in Orlando, but that I didn’t know if I should just include a photo of our school’s card or if I should also share how the past week has played out for me personally. “It’s never ‘all about me,’ ” I said to her, “but this time it’s REALLY not about me. As someone in the LGBT community, what would speak more to you?” C encouraged me to tell my personal story. “People who read your blog want to know about you,” she said. “Write your response. Make it clear that you’re writing as a white woman who is hetero and Christian, and acknowledge the privilege in that identity.”
So that’s what I’m doing.
Where I was when I found out
F is a childhood friend I hadn’t seen for five years. She lives in the U.S. now, but she and her siblings returned to town a couple of weeks ago to attend a family wedding. They stayed together at a house in the old neighbourhood, and F made arrangements to get together with some of her friends from school days. She asked me if she could stay overnight at our place last Saturday night. Her brother and his friends were going to be having an old style house party, and she didn’t want to stick around for it.
So F came to our place last Saturday afternoon. She, DH, and I had a wonderful visit. Faith and finances ended up being the centre of much of our conversation. F has explored different religions, and she has a unique insight into the message of Christ, to which she is returning. She’s also had a financial wake-up call, and she was very interested in hearing about our journey out of debt. F listened to the podcast of our talk at church from 2014, and she cried. “I can relate to this SO much!”
Our low-key visit included three meals, a long walk with the dog, and a failed effort to watch a movie. (I fell asleep.) Sunday afternoon, I drove F back to the house where she was staying with her siblings. She would be flying home on Monday, and she promised it would not take another five years for her to come back to town. As I started my drive back home, I turned on the car radio. So for me, it was just after I’d dropped off my dear friend – who identifies as a lesbian – that I found out about the mass murder in Orlando of people targeted for their sexual orientation.
What could I do?
The news left me in a fog of shock for days. Too much to process. So much hate.
As I drove to work Monday morning, my head swimming with new details that kept emerging, I was determined to harness within me a simmering chaos of sadness, rage, incredulity, powerlessness . . . – and to DO something. I’m a teacher, and I work in a high school library. I thought of staff and students in the LGBT community. If I was feeling this raw, how were they feeling?
The idea of a card came to mind. I’d write a card to establish a stand against the hatred of the weekend’s massacre, and to extend empathy to the the LGBT population in our school. Only one voice – but hopefully one that would be magnified by the signatures of others. A big card. With lots of white space for names.
As soon as I could get to my computer in the school library, I started to write the words for the card in great big font. “I’ll need to ask someone else to read this before I do anything with it,” I thought as I approached the end. A voice surprised me. “OK, now I have to hug you.” It was C. I stood up to hug her, sensing the brutal impact that the shooting had had on her. “There’s something I want you to read,” I said. “I’ve already read it,” she told me. “I could see it over your shoulder.” I shared my idea for the card with her, and she was behind it.
The principal gave his approval. I glued the message to a bristol board along with pieces of blank paper. And by the time the 9:00 bell had rung to signal the beginning of the school day, staff and students in our very multi-cultural school had started to sign it.
My first devotional reading after the Orlando massacre
I have never succeeded in establishing a daily habit of reading the Bible, but I want to. It had been many days since I had done a proper devotional reading when I finally picked up my Bible again Tuesday morning. I found my bookmark half way through Acts 10. It’s a long chapter, and clearly, I hadn’t made it through the whole thing last time I’d read. Starting at verse 23, I soon came to these words, spoken by the apostle Peter, in verse 28: “But God has shown me that I should not call any man impure or unclean.” I am keenly aware of other verses in scripture. This is nevertheless the one that my readings brought me to just at that time.
To the LGBT community in the bloggosphere
Communities overlap. And within this pf bloggosphere, there is an LGBT community. I want you to know that I stand against the targeted hatred of last weekend’s massacre. With you, I mourn the loss of lives cut short. With you, I will continue to strive towards a world in which such atrocities have no place.
Your comments are welcome.