It has been four months.
On June 12th, 2016, I woke up to the sound of my father’s voice.
I was groggy and a little incoherent, but it was not difficult to distinguish. My partner was talking to him on the phone, which was not a common occurrence. I became concerned, but figured maybe I slept in too much, which was common, and I wasn’t answering the phone. I remember him asking if I was okay, something I also thought was strange.
My partner hung up the phone, and still groggy I asked why he was talking to my dad. Without any other way to put it, he just stated: “Well, last night there was a shooting at Pulse, and over 20 people died.”
I was suddenly very alert.
My initial thought was to grab my phone off the charger cord. Before I could account for my own loved ones, my mom called, her voice urgent and stressed. Of course, she was upset that I had just responded. Like I would do throughout the rest of the day, I assured her of my safety and hung up. I went to contact the individuals I was concerned for, to see they were already messaging each other. These messages were how I learned that in minutes, the death toll had risen to 49, and that I was now living in a city with the deadliest mass shooting in U.S. history.
I took to social media, where I encountered post after post, article, after article, update after update, image after image. Being the daughter of an assistant state attorney, I needed to know every detail of the crime. I was glued to my phone for the next few hours, heavily digesting every piece of information I could. Trying to remain objective proved a challenge this time.
Throughout the next few hours, I received a phone call from my cousins, my aunts, family friends, parent’s co-workers, and people I have not spoken to in quite a while. I was heavy with serious emotions of sadness and numbness. 49 People have died, in two communities I am a part of. There is no easy way to not take that personally.
My partner went to work, and I laid in bed attached to social media. It was hard to get up, to eat, to do household chores or even my homework. All I could do was lay there and ingest social media. Amidst the sadness, the images of people in tears, the videos from CNN and Wesh2, I fell asleep, exhausted from the toll this was taking on me emotionally, and physically.
I woke up once again, and became attached to my phone. This time, however, there was a different narrative and agenda to the stories attached to the Pulse shooting. In these images were long lines of blood donations. People were posting flyers about where to donate blood, and that they needed individuals to donate snacks and water to those in line simply because of how long this line was. I remember trying to motive myself to get out of bed. Telling myself that it would be good to be around people. Telling myself that if I do anything today, it should be this. Maybe helping would fill this gaping hole in my chest.
I drove to Waterford Lakes, inclined to buy water and snacks for the blood drive going on there. When I arrived, there were coolers filled to the brim with water and juices, a mountain of snacks, and Chik-fil-a employees handing out chicken sandwiches. When I tried to help, they strongly encouraged me not to buy anything. Instead, I met with someone who had an abundance of supplies, and drove all her supplies to the UCF police station for the drive that would be happening on campus tomorrow. Even though I felt like I had not helped much, I can always tell myself that I at least did something.
This was how I spent my day on June 12. I was sad, I was in shock. I felt personally attacked, and I was scared, for my race and my sexuality. These two communities, the Latino community and the LGBTQQIA++ community are foundations of my personality that were personally attacked on this day. This was a hate crime, and almost everyone living in Orlando felt it as such.
The shooting left me with a gaping hole in my chest. I reacted emotionally to every post on social media, to every hushed conversation about the shooting I witnessed in grocery stores. Hearing Spanish music made me imagine the fun those individuals were having until the shooting. I wept on my back home from work the day after, passing the 408 and seeing buildings dressed in rainbow light.
But something difficult to distinguish was whether my emotions were from the shooting itself, or the community response. I remember being flooded with emotion when I saw that line at Waterford. Or when police officers were grabbing cases of water left and right from my car. How strangers were putting shyness aside, in order to help each other is something I will cherish.
Besides seeing all the volunteering involved, I was most moved when I attended the Lake Eola vigil. I left my dad early on Father’s day to make it on time. It was there where I experienced people from all walks of life, handing me water, snacks, brochures, flowers. I cuddled therapy dogs. I danced to Spanish music, showing people I was not afraid to embrace my culture, even though it was attacked. I embraced these aspects of life, showing the world I was not afraid to continue to express myself. After the main portion of the vigil was completed, I was drenched in emotion, love, and candle wax. I had these two bouquets of flowers. I remember handing one to a lesbian couple, where one girl was just sobbing and sobbing. I remember telling her that although I could not cure her sadness, I wanted her to have them in case they would make her feel better. She gave me a hug and cried in my arms. We left the embrace with shoulders dripping in tears.
The vigil was a tremendous event I needed for closure about what happened at Pulse. However, I experienced this closure at the end of the event, when I was able to relive one of the most important memories of my life.
At the end of the vigil, my friends and I decided on the whim to go with the crowd and hold the World’s largest Pride Flag over our heads. In the beginning, we were only going to hold onto it for a while. Before I knew it, we were so overwhelmed and emotional from the “Thank yous” and “I love yous” in the crowd, the peace signs and high fives, the tears and smiles, we ended up at the Lake Eola stage, miles away from our car but completely, emotionally satisfied. This meant a lot to me, being from Key West, Florida. I have held this flag before, in times of happiness and pride, from one end of Duval Street to another. But to hold it as a sign of bravery, to show that there is no backing down in the face of hate, was something I needed to do. This moment was when I felt the hole in my chest start to close up.
Overall, the Pulse shooting shook me to my core, but I was so filled with love from the community response. It lead me to think, however, how sad it is that a disastrous tragedy has to happen in order for us to put down the barriers and express love for one another. We should be expressing this love, this community, every day. If we lived with as much love as we did the week after the shooting, I truly believe this world would be a better place.
Four months after this shooting happened, I have tried to dedicate my life to expressing more love. I have tried to use this tragedy as a lesson, and I believe our city has done the same. Orlando has become a beacon for diversity and expression, more so than it already was. Orlando showed that this hate crime has not won.
As for my individual goal, I am continuing to try to spread love as best as I can. Even though my utopic version of a community is somewhat of a fantasy, I believe that love can make this world a better place. For Latinos. For the LGBTQQIA++ community. And for our One Human Family.
Spread love, not hate. Orlando United, Orlando Strong.
Stanley Almodovar III, 23 years old, Amanda Alvear, 25 years old, Oscar A Aracena-Montero, 26 years old, Rodolfo Ayala-Ayala, 33 years old, Antonio Davon Brown, 29 years old, Darryl Roman Burt II, 29 years old, Angel L. Candelario-Padro, 28 years old, Juan Chevez-Martinez, 25 years old, Luis Daniel Conde, 39 years old, Cory James Connell, 21 years old, Tevin Eugene Crosby, 25 years old, Deonka Deidra Drayton, 32 years old, Simon Adrian Carrillo Fernandez, 31 years old, Leroy Valentin Fernandez, 25 years old, Mercedez Marisol Flores, 26 years old Peter O. Gonzalez-Cruz, 22 years old, Juan Ramon Guerrero, 22 years old, Paul Terrell Henry, 41 years old, Frank Hernandez, 27 years old, Miguel Angel Honorato, 30 years old, Javier Jorge-Reyes, 40 years old, Jason Benjamin Josaphat, 19 years old, Eddie Jamoldroy Justice, 30 years old, Anthony Luis Laureanodisla, 25 years old, Christopher Andrew Leinonen, 32 years old, Alejandro Barrios Martinez, 21 years old, Brenda Lee Marquez McCool, 49 years old, Gilberto Ramon Silva Menendez, 25 years old, Kimberly Morris, 37 years old, Akyra Monet Murray, 18 years old, Luis Omar Ocasio-Capo, 20 years old, Geraldo A. Ortiz-Jimenez, 25 years old, Eric Ivan Ortiz-Rivera, 36 years old, Joel Rayon Paniagua, 32 years old, Jean Carlos Mendez Perez, 35 years old, Enrique L. Rios, Jr., 25 years old, Jean C. Nives Rodriguez, 27 years old, Xavier Emmanuel Serrano Rosado, 35 years old, Christopher Joseph Sanfeliz, 24 years old, Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan, 24 years old, Edward Sotomayor Jr., 34 years old, Shane Evan Tomlinson, 33 years old, Martin Benitez Torres, 33 years old, Jonathan Antonio Camuy Vega, 24 years old, Juan P. Rivera Velazquez, 37 years old, Luis S. Vielma, 22 years old, Franky Jimmy Dejesus Velazquez, 50 years old, Luis Daniel Wilson-Leon, 37 years old, Jerald Arthur Wright, 31 years old.
Photo credit: Main Image, Image 1, Image 2, Image 3
EDITED BY JJ