My queer friends have expressed sadness at the lack of posts, and outrage, and public anger by their straight allies in the wake of Orlando. If you haven’t called or texted your friends in the LGBT community to see how they are doing, it’s not too late. Just do it. Just ask if they are okay. They will appreciate it.
I try to process the shooting and I can’t. I hear things on the radio and they make me deeply sad. My daughter was sick all week and while normally her toddler-y illnesses enrage me because of the time spent away from work, and the increased whining from a small human, this week I minded less than usual. We went to stroller strides and the art museum and the splash park and simply focused on the things that are beautiful and wonderful and interesting to a 20-month old. And I think about how hard it is to be raising a child right now, and to be raising a daughter. And I try not to think about the fact that I will have to send her to school and to the movies and that she may go dancing at clubs and all of those activities, done in America, increase the chance that she will die at gunpoint.
A friend shared this poem and it helped me start to feel the mission of the collective parental subconscious.
And so let us together raise small humans, whatever role you want to play in that, to believe that the world could be beautiful and that they could make it so.