What is There to Say?
I haven’t posted or spoken about Orlando in any way after the horrifying events this week. I haven’t said names like Miguel Honorato, or Deonka Drayton. I haven’t written about gun control, or media representations of minority communities. I’ve not said anything.
And there could be many reasons for that. I could say that others have said it better – that every opinion has, somewhere, been shared. I could say that it was my birthday, and I couldn’t reconcile the multitude of conflicting feelings I was having at once. Both are true, I suppose.
I could say that, ultimately, there is nothing to say. Because there is nothing to say. What words are you supposed to say when 49 lives end; when 49 families have lost a member. What do you say when a hospital is filled with those who survived, and their families. What words make any of that OK?
I begrudge no-one their op-eds and think pieces. It is vital to analyse, and understand, and desperately try to ensure that this never happens again.
And I begrudge no-one their silence. Because sometimes you just can’t understand. Sometimes there is just nothing to say.
