I spent my train ride home from work today scrolling through TIME.com reading vignettes about the 49 victims from the shooting in Orlando. Smelling of chicken grease, my hair tied up in a ponytail and my dirty Chucks propped up against the train rail, I fell into a daze reading and realized how many Hispanics died that night. I’d read that Pulse was hosting a “Latin Night,” but I’d failed to realize that many of the victims were most likely Hispanic.
Fernandez, Ayala, Flores, Martinez, Rodriguez. Their deaths seemed suddenly more personal. Of course it is sad when fellow Americans are slain, but much like those who identify as gay and connected with the victims over this fact, I was suddenly grieving on behalf of my culture.
This was all so sudden. I was still processing Christina Grimmie’s death, which I also don’t understand. These are tragic endings for innocent people.
I watched Shane Dawson’s video about Christina. I’ve been unsubscribed to him for over a year now due to the drop in quality of his content, but his reflection about the loss of his friend brought me to this video, which I had watched when it was first posted:
My heart fell into the pit of my stomach watching them sing and laugh together, and I can’t even imagine how Shane is feeling watching this again now.
My condolences and prayers go out to the family and friends of the victims. I wish there was something I could do. As Dumbledore said, “We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, Harry, but battle on.”