To my LGBTQIAP folks... I'm sorry

I have to get something off my chest.  This is not only for my own comfort, but also to acknowledge and take responsibility for places where I have fallen short in the past.  

To my LGBTQIAP folks.My friends, coworkers and associates.  I see you and your life matters.

It has taken me far too long to say that out loud. I could argue that I’ve been too wrapped up in giving a voice to people of color to say this, but it would not be totally  true.  It is an embarrassing admission to make, but in some ways, I just didn’t understand. I lacked understanding. 

I have moments of revelation where some truth is shown to me instantaneously.  It’s like a download that has been running in the background of my brain finally finishes and I am upgraded with instantaneous new knowledge and understanding.  When this happens, I credit God.  It’s my belief that God aids me in gaining understanding, wisdom and empathy when I lack what is necessary.  Last week, a bit of understanding was dropped into my spirit. 

I had recently attended a virtual workshop on the subjects of gender, race and bias and had been in inquiry around all of it.  I had finished a phone call with a friend who is non-binary and as I got in the shower, a wave of divine understanding just hit me. 

“We miss the mark because we demand understanding before giving empathy.”

This was finally able to land with me as I reflected on my experience as a Black person in America.  I have always gone to school with white people.  Being the “safe” person that I am, I am often asked to engage conversations around race because it seems accepted that I won’t become combative even if I get frustrated.  All too often, I am met with an opener of “I don’t understand why black people do __________.”  Sometimes it is an honest observation of a behavior a person doesn’t get.. Other times, it's really thinly-veiled racist assertions.  Either way, I have listened and responded.  Another opener is “help me understand ____________.”  Again, I understand the sentiment, but the burden of proof is then on me to explain an idea or justification for a behavior or set of principles. 

It is not my intent to center this post on me and my experience, but it is pivotal to use my experience to expand my understanding.  White people often aren’t willing to engage with the construct of race and racism unless they feel like they have full understanding.  I believe it is a different version of this same experience that plagues people and keeps them from being able to empathize with the LGBTQIAP population.

I am a heterosexual, cis gendered female.  I have always loved stereotypical “girly” things.  I have only ever dated men.  I have never felt like I was in the wrong body.  My pronouns were never in question and I’ve never worried that loving who I love would lead to the loss of support from  my friends or family.  

I admit that I have neglected to take a strong stance in favor of LGBTQIAP  lives because some aspects of other folks’ realities were lost on me.  I just didn’t understand.  Even now, I admit that it stretches my brain when I think about being non-binary or even transgendered.  As someone who has identified strongly as a female for as long as I can remember, it is like a brain exercise to think outside of boxes that have been ever present for me. I reinforce, this is not an excuse, and is just the result of inquiry and reflection.

My support does not depend on my full understanding.

Even if someone does not fully understand the intricacies of race relations and systematic racism, I (as a Black person) am not wrong for expecting to be called Black instead of “colored.” The same holds true for LGBTQIAP folks navigating this world.  Using correct pronouns, and terminology may feel like work at first, but as a lover of people first, I will do what is necessary to build love and inclusion for all. 

Another way where I’ve fallen short is in the idea that supporting loudly within my circle is enough.  My family is among the most accepting people I know.  Family gatherings are often filled with discussion on America's failure of some underserved group.  We’ve been loud in our support of marriage equality and job protections, but usually we’re loudest when we’re together.  I have not done my part to continue this loud dialogue outside of the comfort of my family.  It reminds me of growing up as a Christian kid and hearing everyone talk so badly about Halloween.  I knew that my parents would still let me don a costume and get candy because they understood that free candy was great and that I wasn’t going to end up worshipping the devil.  Still, we never spoke of it at church because I didn’t feel like defending my position. I have retreated to the safety of my family group text instead of shouting my position from the rooftops.  I commit to changing that. 

I spoke of this with a member of leadership at the yoga studio where I work.  Her take was that we sometimes minimize how important it is to make our position known.  “We think, ‘well WE know where we stand.. And that’s what’s important right?’”  Those close to me have always known where I stand.  As I learn more and live longer, there’s a tug in the pit of my belly that tells me that practice is no longer enough.  

So here I am.  First to apologize.  I can and will do better.  

And second to say it loudly.  LGBTQIAP Lives Matter.  

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