Where do I start?

A couple weeks ago, after posting a status that probably should have been used as a blog post, I promised some sappy blog posts would be coming soon.

Unfortunately, a couple things got in the way. There were the obvious issues: A weekend away from home, a car accident, a stomach bug, more time away from home, and work.

Of course, those things (with the exception of getting sick) would have just added on to the sappiness of any upcoming post. They weren’t really the problem, though.

The thing that kept weighing on my mind was how I would choose to respond to the non-indictment of Officer Darren Wilson, who shot and killed an unarmed, Black teenager named Michael Brown. It seemed frivolous (and disingenuous) to post about how loved and accepted I felt when so many of my friends were screaming at the top of their lungs about how unsafe they are.

What terrifies me is that there are people who see the #BlackLivesMatter hashtag and claim it as and example of “reverse racism,” or worse, dismiss it altogether.

Let me be clear, although I identify as White, if you continue to believe that #BlackLivesMatter or that the protests (not the riots and looting) across the country are unnecessary, you disrespect Black lives and you disrespect my own life.

How many years have people of color had full “protections” under the law? And yet Black people are still being killed without punishment for their killers. I can empathize with the terror so many people of color must be feeling.

Trans* people of color have been thrown in jail for walking down the street, prosecuted for using self-defense, and even slaughtered for daring to live.

In the decade-plus since Lawrence v. Texas abolished laws against LGBT sexual activity in the US, dozens have been arrested under anti-sodomy laws and at least a dozen states still have so-called “anti-sodomy” laws still on the books.

As the LGBTQ community rushes toward greater and greater acceptance and achieves more and more victories giving us equal rights, I wonder what my world will look like in 50 years. Are we doomed to repeat our mistakes? Will my sheer existence put my life in danger even with full protection under the law?

I have a lot more to say, but I don’t want to dilute the message. So, for the moment, let me just say this: My rage will not be contained. My fear will not define me. My existence will continue to shatter your boxes.

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