Sometimes as a straight female, I am surprised by violence in safe spaces like Pulse because I am used to having at least one place that’s untouchable. I start to assume that everyone has at least one place that is untouchable. And maybe Pulse was untouchable for people–maybe that’s why they went there. Maybe that’s why the shooter went there. I say shooter because he deserves to remain anonymous and fade from everyone’s memory.
I feel the upsetness of a young person watching other young people die. Most of the victims were my age. They were doing things I do. They were loving the way I love, and living good, beautiful lives. And now they’re all gone. I have a really hard time with this because it scares me and fills me with this sorrow that cannot be described.
I know two things for certain though: First, I refuse to be a bystander any longer. I’ve offered up enough prayers and enough well-wishes. I’m done. From now on, each upset will be met with the suggested meditation from the Dalai Lama: Critical thinking followed by action.
And second, I’m done waiting for a better time to be more loving, compassionate, and brave. Those people were good people and now they don’t get to laugh anymore, cry anymore, or even do things like have ice cream or pet a dog. They don’t get anything anymore. I have everything, and you better fucking believe I’m going to change some shit around.
The librarian who’s thinking critically and acting