I have kept quiet because I don’t know what to say. I’m afraid I might offend people by saying the wrong thing. I don’t know how I can help. I don’t know how I can make things better. I don’t know how to get people to remember. But I know this: I cannot stay silent any longer.
July 11, 2016
When I was a teenager, just starting to question, there was a horrific crime committed in my hometown where two brothers broke into the house of a gay couple and murdered them while they slept in their bed. I believed then that it would never be safe for me to be out. As a teenager, I expected ...
Self-inquiry is uncomfortable. It's easier for me to blame police officers with guns than it is to look at my own hands and question my own actions. How am I culpable? How am I complicit? Can I do more? Can I listen more? Can I love more?