A week ago, on the morning of Sunday, June 12, I woke up to see a breaking news alert blinking on my phone screen. I lazily tapped the icon, expecting merely another frustrating headline about the upcoming election. Instead, I discovered that 49 people had been killed that night in the largest mass shooting in U.S. history.
I soon found myself scrolling through Facebook statuses and news articles. Everyone had something different to say. I discovered the shooting occurred at a gay nightclub. I found out there were over 53 people injured. I found people screaming for gun control, and I watched as people yelled back against anyone who tried to use these 49 deaths for politics. I found people screaming about radical Islam. I found people who wanted everyone to know their opinion. I found people who were angry. I found people who were scared.
And now it’s time for me to write this week’s article, and I’ve found I have nothing to say. What hasn’t already been said? Everyone is already yelling. I don’t really feel like adding my voice to the chaos – thousands of voices yelling at closed ears. No one is listening, because we’re all too focused on trying to formulate and declare our own opinions.
When tragedies like the Orlando shooting happen, it sometimes seems as though no one is willing to shut up for 10 minutes to actually feel the pain – the horror – of what’s happened. We immediately jump on the tragedy and raise it like a banner as we scream, “I told you so! I demand that you listen to me now.”
I’m not saying that people don’t have valid, amazing, helpful things to say about the shooting or possible ways to prevent similar tragedies in the future. I’m simply saying this: 49 people died that night. Those deaths are far too heavy to be lightly sewn onto any banner. It doesn’t matter right now whether you’re straight, gay, bi, trans, lesbian, conservative, liberal or independent. Your politics or lack thereof cannot bring those people back. Your yelling and screaming don't mean a thing to them. It’s just noise.
Yes, there are things that we can do as a people – as a nation – to reduce the chance of this happening again. But can we please stop hating everyone who has a different solution than you? It’s alright to be passionate, but hatred towards different opinions than yours does nothing to help the problem. Hatred is the precursor to violence – never healing. Just take a look at the Trump rallies if you don’t believe me. No amount of policy or argumentation will erase what the Pulse survivors saw that night. The only thing with the power to heal our country from tragedies such as this is love.
Sure, I sound like a Disney movie, but maybe *insert your favorite Disney princess here* is right. Maybe we don’t need everyone shouting opinions over each other. Maybe what we need is a moment of silence where we actually stop and listen; where we stop our shouting and bickering and consider the actual gravity, the actual pain of what happened last Sunday. Can you close your eyes and feel the victims’ fear? But, even more importantly, do you feel overwhelmed by love for people?
Yes, a tragedy like the Pulse shooting may support your ideas by adding statistics in your favor. I don’t deny that. However, I believe that victims make the transition from “murder victim” to “political pawn” far too quickly. And I would further challenge us to never allow a victim to become merely another pawn – merely another statistic – in a giant, political game of chess. We’re not dealing with numbers, we’re arguing over flesh and blood humans.
Life is certainly fragile. And life without love is no life at all but a living death in which we isolate ourselves by dehumanizing those around us. Further, I strongly believe that anyone who focuses on tearing down the beliefs of others - anyone living this "living death" - perpetuates the same violence that prompted this and other tragedies.
Do you feel the need – not merely desire – but an overwhelming need to show love to those around you? We can yell and scream and point fingers until our throats bleed and our hands fall off, but it won’t mean a thing to anyone but you unless your opinions and actions are prompted by love. There is no issue with your love of people leading you to a political conclusion. I respect that. The issue I fear arises when we use tragedies to support our agendas rather than shape our beliefs and lives – when we manipulate a tragedy into evidence rather than letting that tragedy integrally change the way we live.
So please join me in a moment of silence.
