I Am A Puerto Rican, Dominican, Gay Male And I'm Terrified Of Gun Violence
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Politics and Activism

I Am A Puerto Rican, Dominican, Gay Male And I'm Terrified Of Gun Violence

Death doesn't just affect those immediately around someone, it echoes through the entire world.

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I Am A Puerto Rican, Dominican, Gay Male And I'm Terrified Of Gun Violence
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About two years ago an event happened that changed my life.

1,100 miles away, I never could imagine the emotions this event would instill. Now more than ever this piece I wrote speaks volumes about the dangers of gun violence, and how nothing is being done to stop it.

I hope you read this and realize something needs to be done because death doesn't just affect those immediately around someone, it echoes through the entire world.

June 12th, 2016. Orlando, Florida.

It’s Latino night in Pulse, a gay nightclub. The couple hundred people in attendance were simply enjoying their night.

2:02 AM the first reports of shots fired are reported to the police.Messages exchanged between Pulse patrons and outside personnel reveal the extent of the situation. Eddie Justice, 30, texts his mother from the club bathroom: "Mommy I love you." Then: "In club they shooting." "Trapp in bathroom." "Pulse. Downtown. Call police." And then: "I'm gonna die.”

5:15 AM. Finally, after 3 hours of chaos, the shooter is shot by enforcement officers and pronounced dead at the scene.

Silence. Speechless. Afraid.

The top three words that come to mind when recalling my intake of such information. The first thing I did when hearing the news was cried. I cried, and for longer than I’d like to admit. People, my people, were killed. 90% of victims were Hispanic, over half Puerto Rican, and 4 Dominicans were killed.

My name is Michael Morales. I am a Puerto Rican and Dominican Gay Male.

The emotions instilled after that night were like nothing I've experienced.

Fear.

For the next week, I refused to leave my house for anything there than school, and most definitely not alone. I couldn’t even do my laundry die in my basements ominous feel. Now, while I can’t get into any clubs and I do live in a predominately accepting area with low crime rates, I somehow couldn’t shake the idea of me being next. Not only did I identify with the LGBTQ+ community, but I was Latino.

Anger.

How could this happen? Here, in my country, in my home. Why were these firearms so accessible to him? But more importantly; What is being done about this? Those questions are sadly unanswerable. But, that doesn’t change the fact that they aren’t fixable. So what’s being done? Nothing. Weeks pass and still no change. Instead, it seems that just about the whole world forgot about what happened. But I will never forget my emotions when I learned the news that night.

Disappointment.

Of course, this happened here. What else did I expect? We might have finally won the right to get married but that changed nothing. Just showed small progress. We were still hated by the masses. Outcasts. The ones with the courage to be themselves and stand up for what they believe in. My country, most importantly, my people failed me. Not my fellow classmates or the ones in my neighborhood, my species. The Human Race, as always, failed me.

The failure of my species reminded me of important lessons. Whether it was my sexuality, race, or personality, I was constantly reminded I was an outcast. I was different. I was wrong.

Most importantly, I'm in danger.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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