What Pulse Means to Me: One Year Later

Life, as we all know, is a precious and fragile gift. Tomorrow is never promised to anyone. For me, June 12, 2016 started off as a normal day and it ended in heartbreak and confusion. I was working as a dishwasher and a cashier at the Campbell-Stone North Apartments in Sandy Springs, Georgia. Little did I know, nearly 456 miles south of where I was located, carnage and tragedy ensued. The Pulse nightclub on 1912 South Orange Avenue in Orlando, Florida was supposed to be a haven for the LGBTQ community and its allies. It was supposed to be a place for people to congregate and dance in peace. Sadly, in the two o'clock hour early that morning, it would become the place of the deadliest mass shooting in American history. 49 people were killed and 58 people were injured in a vicious act of hate and terrorism...

It is difficult to put into words how I feel about the Pulse massacre. Even now, on the eve of its one-year anniversary, words are not adequate enough to describe the pain I have in my heart for the innocent victims, survivors, and their families. I ask myself, "Why did this have to happen?" The truth is, no one but God knows the answer. I can tell you that as a gay man, the events of June 12, 2016 left a scar on my soul and put in me the fear that the same thing could happen to me. That ever-present fear will probably never go away. Each time I went out to a gay-friendly establishment like Bulldogs of Midtown Atlanta, GA or the Monster Bar of Manhattan in New York City since the massacre, the thought of a crazed gunman coming in and shooting at the crowd of people never left my mind. That may be abnormal to some people, but for me, it is, unfortunately, a new normal. I hope and pray that I will find the peace that will ultimately dissipate those thoughts.

For the victims of that heinous crime, my tears won't stop flowing. I didn't know any of them personally, but I do know that we all shared the commonality of believing that love is love and that it transcends sexual orientation. As I think about Pulse itself, I think of more than just a nightclub or a memorial site. Pulse means that despite death and desolation, life is still worth living. Pulse means that in a tragic loss, there is a chance for new beginnings. Pulse means that as we honor and remember those who were lost, we can prepare ourselves to gain a rebirth of strength and PRIDE. That is my fervent prayer for all of us who were and still are affected, both directly and indirectly.

In Memoriam...

• Stanley Almodovar III, age 23
• Amanda Alvear, 25
• Oscar A. Aracena-Montero, 26
• Rodolfo Ayala-Ayala, 33
• Alejandro Barrios Martinez, 21
• Martin Benitez Torres, 33
• Antonio D. Brown, 30
• Darryl R. Burt II, 29
• Jonathan A. Camuy Vega, 24
• Angel L. Candelario-Padro, 28
• Simon A. Carrillo Fernandez, 31
• Juan Chevez-Martinez, 25
• Luis D. Conde, 39
• Cory J. Connell, 21
• Tevin E. Crosby, 25
• Franky J. Dejesus Velazquez, 50
• Deonka D. Drayton, 32
• Mercedez M. Flores, 26
• Peter O. Gonzalez-Cruz, 22
• Juan R. Guerrero, 22
• Paul T. Henry, 41
• Frank Hernandez, 27
• Miguel A. Honorato, 30
• Javier Jorge-Reyes, 40
• Jason B. Josaphat, 19
• Eddie J. Justice, 30
• Anthony L. Laureano Disla, 25
• Christopher A. Leinonen, 32
• Brenda L. Marquez McCool, 49
• Jean C. Mendez Perez, 35
• Akyra Monet Murray, 18
• Kimberly Morris, 37
• Jean C. Nieves Rodriguez, 27
• Luis O. Ocasio-Capo, 20
• Geraldo A. Ortiz-Jimenez, 25
• Eric I. Ortiz-Rivera, 36
• Joel Rayon Paniagua, 32
• Enrique L. Rios Jr., 25
• Juan P. Rivera Velazquez, 37
• Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan, 24
• Christopher J. Sanfeliz, 24
• Xavier E. Serrano Rosado, 35
• Gilberto R. Silva Menendez, 25
• Edward Sotomayor Jr., 34
• Shane E. Tomlinson, 33
• Leroy Valentin Fernandez, 25
• Luis S. Vielma, 22
• Luis D. Wilson-Leon, 37
• Jerald A. Wright, 31

The Chocolate Aspie's Question Of The Day #9

Question #9:

In the wake of the protests and chaos in Ferguson, Missouri, what does America need to do to improve race relations?

The Chocolate Aspie Questions America

I, as a young Black man in the United States of America, am very hurt and flabbergasted by the grand jury's decision of no indictment of the officer who shot and killed Ferguson, Missouri teenager Michael Brown. Last night, I was once again reminded that I am an endangered species in my own nation and that I have to constantly be on guard for my own life every time I leave my house or if I have an encounter with law enforcement. While watching the news coverage on CNN last night, seeing the sea of protesters and the chaos that ensued, I thought of the late civil rights activist and freedom fighter Fannie Lou Hamer. 50 years ago on August 22nd, she gave a first hand account of the cruelty and abuse she faced while fighting for her basic rights as an American citizen at the Democratic National Convention. The words that she spoke which resonated with me were, "I question America." A half of a century later, I find myself saying those same words. Is this truly America, where unarmed Black teens get murdered in cold blood by the law and get no justice? Is this truly America, where race relations are very much sour and tense, even in 2014 under the leadership of a Black president? I question America...

#JusticeForMikeBrown
#PrayForFerguson