Words: Oli Spleen, B&W Images: Estate of Fred W. McDarrah
Ten years ago this June, a gunman walked into Pulse, an LGBT+ venue in Orlando Florida and opened fire. Forty nine people died as a result. Deeply shaken by the news of this tragedy I was honoured to be asked to write a poem for a charity record “Disarm Hate” which raised funds and awareness for the massacre. The original version of the poem “Let That Bullet” opened with a quote from LGBT+ rights activist Harvey Milk and read as follows:
November 1978, Harvey Milk’s last speech foretold his end: “This tape is to be played only in the event of my death by assassination,” America’s first openly gay elected official intoned into his hand-held tape recorder.
“I fully realise that a person who stands for what I stand for—a gay activist—becomes the potential target for a person who is insecure, terrified, afraid or very disturbed…. Knowing that I could be assassinated at any moment, I feel it’s important that some people know my thoughts. I cannot prevent people from feeling angry, frustrated and mad in response to my death, but I hope they will take the frustration and that five, ten, one hundred, a thousand would rise. I would like to see every gay lawyer, every gay architect come out, stand up and let the world know. That would do more to end prejudice overnight than anybody could imagine. Only that way will we start to achieve our rights. … All I ask is for the movement to continue, and if a bullet should enter my brain, let that bullet destroy every closet door…”
Nine days later Harvey Milk was assassinated.
I went on to describe an afternoon in 1999 when I was drinking in a gay bar, Comptons of Soho on the day of the Admiral Duncan nail bomb attack where three were killed and seventy nine severely injured. As I write this, yesterday (30 April), was the twenty-seventh anniversary of that day. I feel sure that, had the nail bomber known the Soho gay bars better, he would have laid the bomb in the bar where I was, as Comptons was the more popular of the two. I recall feeling the earth move that day and witnessing a horrific scene unfold in the street outside:
This was an act of sheer terror. An explosion of shrapnel. White hot flame, metal and nails bursting out of the blue, indiscriminately lacerating all in its path.
Gay bars had been safe spaces for us from the prejudice, the violence and hatred which many of us received on the street. All of a sudden nowhere seemed safe.
This week it felt as though these types of attacks are not just resigned to history when, last Sunday (26 April) an LGBT+ club Pink Punters in Fenny Stratford near Milton Keynes was set on fire when it was at its busiest. Thankfully no one was hurt. Thames Valley Police said a joint investigation with Buckinghamshire Fire and Rescue Service found no evidence of criminality following the blaze. However for those of us with living memory of those other targeted attacks and the knowledge that certain factions of society would sooner see us dead, the reassurance from those in power that this was not a targeted homophobic attack are understandably viewed with suspicion.
In the ten years since the Orlando Massacre, LGBT+ rights have been increasingly stripped away. Trans people in particular have been the target and scapegoat of the right who consistently whip up fear and hostility toward the LGBT+ community as a smokescreen to distract from the widening gulf of inequality and austerity. Particularly in America under Trump these last ten years, we’ve seen transgender people have their identities erased and passports amended with their birth gender restricting their potential for travel.
Across North America rainbow crosswalks have been painted over (including the one to commemorate the victims of the Pulse nightclub shooting) and moves are being made to dismantle all hard-earned LGBT+ equality legislation, including marriage rights. Information on LGBT+ rights and resources was removed from several government websites, including the White House, immediately following Trump’s inauguration.
The Trump administration also opposed the Equality Act, which would have added sexual orientation and gender identity as protected characteristics under federal civil rights law, and The Department of Labor issued a rule allowing federal contractors to cite religious beliefs to fire LGBT+ workers.
If the Reform party gets into power here in the UK I feel we can expect to see much of the same. Yet some people wonder why we need a Pride Month.
Pride Month takes place every June to commemorate the Stonewall uprising of 1969. This was a series of spontaneous protests by members of the LGBT+ community in response to a police raid that began in the early morning hours of 28 June 1969. These riots lasted for six days and were primarily led by trans women and LGBT+ people of colour who had had enough of police brutality. Its immediate aftermath led to the formation of activist groups like the Gay Liberation Front and the Gay Activists Alliance. The following year on June 28 1970, the first anniversary of the riots, activists held the Christopher Street Liberation Day March, which is now recognised as the first Pride parade.
In my tribute to the fallen of Orlando’s Pulse nightclub I concluded:
“As an LGBT+ person growing up in a world of binary gender and sexuality, where you are told there is only one “right” way to be, it is hard enough first to come to terms with yourself, to yourself. Then to have the guts to come out to family, friends and loved ones who may disown you. Then to have the strength to love yourself enough to love another and to hold their hand and kiss in public when there is a very real possibility of violence. All of this takes tremendous bravery.
“Children are not born homophobic, sexist or racist. These are ideas that are passed on to them. We are taught to hate. Prejudice is something we learn. That which unites us as human beings is far greater than the superficialities of race, religion, sexuality and gender which divide us.
“Our sexuality is not a ‘lifestyle choice’, we are what we are. Our only choice is to hide our true nature, or to confront it. We will never give up the fight to love those who our nature dictates we should love.
“We have been fighting all our lives just to be who we are and we are strong and many. You can kill individuals but you can’t erase us. To be true to ourselves in a world that seeks to invalidate us and make us ashamed is an act of great bravery, an expression of freedom and no amount of violence will stop us.
“Let no bullet silence us. May we unite as our voices rise ever stronger in defiance. For those of us globally, some condemned to die, simply for what they are and who they love. For Harvey Milk. For the wounded and dead of Orlando, and for all of us around the world today who are struggling against all the odds. Just to be our authentic selves.”
