Why the queer community needs to stand with Black Lives Matter
Five cops were killed on Thursday night at a Black Lives Matter rally in Dallas, Texas by snipers who targeted officers in an “ambush-style” attack. Seven other cops were shot alongside two civilians, according to the Associated Press. One suspect died in a standoff with police, and three other suspects are in police custody.
Let’s clear something up real quick: this was not an attack planned or encouraged by the Black Lives Matter movement. The shooters were radicals. The shooters acted on their own accord. The shooters put a crowd of peaceful protestors in danger, and killed five men.
Friday morning during a press conference, Dallas Police Chief David Brown said:
The suspect said he was upset about Black Lives Matter. He said he was upset about the recent police shootings. He was upset at white people. He wanted to kill white people, especially white officers.
The suspect stated that we will eventually find the IEDs. The suspect stated he was not affiliated within groups and he stated that he did this alone. The suspect said other things that are part of this investigation so that we can make sure that everyone associated with this tragic event is brought to justice.
We must not let this tragedy change the conversation.
It’s going to be easy for people to turn this conversation onto the Black Lives Matter movement — and black people — blaming them for the slaughter of five white officers. The actions of few do not define an entire race.
When white men — Dylann Roof, Adam Lanza, James Holmes, Jared Loughner, Eric Harris, and Dylan Klebold — commit these crimes there is no outcry against the white community. When a minority does them, that entire community is damned.
As a community, this is something we have to pay attention to, show our support, and stand alongside people of color and Black Lives Matter. Queer people, no matter if they are black or not, know what it is like to be marginalized, persecuted, beaten, broken, and even killed. We share similar struggles from the same oppressor.
It’s not uncommon to hear, “we have our own struggles to deal with.” This is fundamentally wrong. Comparing our own battles to the other marginalized groups causes a riff in an already unstable ground. For years, both the queer and black communities have been struggling. We have been painted as prime examples of American unacceptability.
Our histories share similar timelines. Both burned at the stake for simply existing. Both faced marriage discrimination. Both face the discrimination and ignorance surrounding HIV. Both turned away from businesses, not because of our merit, but because we represented the ‘disgusting.’ To our oppressors, however, they were keeping us in our place and protecting their ideal America.
So as we both fight for equality, we have to do so together. Not only do our communities share members, but we share the battle. They are trying to silence us. They are trying to belittle us. They are killing us. By standing together, not only do we scare them, we pose a serious threat. We have to welcome each other ceremoniously, and start making changes on all fronts.






