Just Imagine

A dream for peace on National Coming Out Day.

Dear Diary,

I’m sick today with a sore throat and a cough, so I’ve been hibernating inside. It’s National Coming Out Day, and I wanted to write something about my experience as a fairly new member of the LGBTQ+ community.

I wanted to write about how it feels to live as a lesbian in a bright red state after spending 45 years in a privileged, heteronormative existence. (Short story: It feels right and good to be who I truly am, and it also feels scary and intimidating to have to look over my shoulder at times. The good definitely outweighs the bad, but living in a marginalized community that many still hate and condemn is an experience that’s vastly different from the one I knew for multiple decades.)

But the Jews in Israel just suffered a horrible, bloody, violent attack at the hands of Hamas, an extremist terrorist group intent on death and destruction, and Israel has responded with retaliatory attacks in the Gaza Strip, and Palestinians—50% of whom are children—are now dying horrible, bloody deaths as well.

I read a great deal today about the history of the Palestinians and the Israelis because it’s been more than a few years since I studied world history. Although I know the basic historical context for this ongoing conflict, I will not claim to be an expert. I am just trying to understand.

But nothing—absolutely nothing—I read can help me understand the horror experienced by young people dancing at a peace festival while terrorists paraglide in to kill or rape or kidnap them. I cannot understand entire families murdered in their beds. I cannot understand elderly women being held hostage. I cannot understand beheaded babies. I cannot understand.

I also cannot understand such hate. Such disregard for human life. 

All marginalized communities, to some extent, feel the hatred of others and experience fear for their well-being… but… all those beautiful babies, all that promise…gone forever.

There is no measuring stick for pain and fear. We all experience it.

But today, speaking of my own marginalization while I sit safely in my air conditioned home with chicken soup and a snuggly pup and hot tea just doesn’t feel right. Not while Jews are being slaughtered for who they are. Not while innocent Palestinian children are experiencing the same.

That doesn’t mean I don’t care about LGBTQ+ rights. It just means my heart is heavy with more pressing injustices. 

I would have said today that “love is love is love.” I would have asked everyone to set aside fear and prejudice and embrace empathy.

When will human lives matter more than borders and belief systems? When will we stop killing each other in the name of a god or a piece of land or beliefs that are not universally shared?

When so much death and destruction is possible, how can peace and love not be possible? 

I cannot understand. I will never understand.

On this National Coming Out Day, I will dream about all of us—every human on this earth—coming out of our worlds of hate and fear and war and weaponry with open arms for humanity.

Just imagine.

Love,

Katrina