How to support your LGBTQIA+ friends today
This post was based on my earlier post, How to Support Your Black and Non-Black Friends Today, because the need is the same, and the advice is equivalently applicable to any group of marginalized people that you want to be an ally to.
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My name is Kat Vellos, and I am alive today. There is air in my lungs, and I’m in a place where I feel safe.
I’m Black. And queer. And a woman. And from another country. Maybe you are some of these things, too.
The prevailing white hetero culture in America says that the things that make me different also make me less than. Some would even like to see me dead, just because of the things that make me different from them. Or simply because of the way that I love.
I fear that writing this letter will place a target on me, but I will write it anyway because I am alive, and I have the privilege of writing, speaking, and being heard. I always aim to use my privilege for good, and I hope you will do the same.
If you don’t identify as a member of the LGBTQIA+ community and you’re reading this after the shooting at Club Q in Colorado Springs or after any other instance of hate-based violence against our community, I’m writing to ask you to pay attention and help out.
Today (3 min read)
Today, my heart is heavy. My work is usually centered on friendship and the cultivation of healthy teams, and I’m wondering what some people’s idea of friendship and connection means on a day like today. Friendship isn’t just about getting brunch and dishing about celebrity gossip. Friendship shows its true depth in times of crisis and real need.
Once again, a rain of bullets have been fired into at a gathering of people who are already marginalized and oppressed in this country. There seems to be a recurring schedule for mass shootings. They come like the most dreaded of storms, without warning, leaving anguish in their violent wake. They come for people dancing and singing to music behind the closed doors they were told to hide behind so we wouldn’t “flaunt” the joyful truth of our existence in your faces. They also come for Black people and Jewish people worshipping in their most sacred sanctuaries. They also come for teenagers and young adults walking across college campuses on their way to study at the library. They even come for innocent children, singing the alphabet and learning to read in elementary schools. If mass shooters will slaughter innocent children, who will they not come for? What will it take for this madness to end? When will murder become unacceptable enough?
A couple nights ago, a man with an AR-15 pushed behind closed doors to kill people at Club Q in Colorado Springs who were singing, dancing, and celebrating the experience of being alive in a private space that exists for them to express their joyful hearts. It is not lost on me that one of the people slain had the last name Loving and one of the survivors’ last names is Loveall. We gather in a spirit of love, and we are killed because of the way we love. Why is our love so damn frightening?
The terrorist who killed and wounded patrons was stopped by Richard M. Fierro, a retired military veteran who was there with his family, supporting his daughter’s friend’s performance. He sprang into immediate action and was assisted in subduing the shooter by a trans performer who sent her heels thundering down. The cops thanked the veteran hero in an unusual fashion, by handcuffing him and locking him in a police car for over an hour. After being released, he was quoted in The New York Times saying, “These kids want to live that way, want to have a good time, have at it. I’m happy about it because that is what I fought for, so they can do whatever the hell they want.” The whereabouts of the trans performer are unknown but I hope they become canonized for their fiery strength and courage. When I think of these two rushing towards danger so they could prevent more people from being killed, I’m grateful for and awed by their courage, but today I’m also sick to my stomach that this kind of courage is even necessary.
Today, I imagine what might happen if every straight and cisgender person stood up and demanded an end to homophobia, transphobia, and all the underlying phobias-of-anyone-and-anything-different.
The oppression of queer and trans folks goes hand-in-hand with the oppression of every other underrespected population in this country: Indigenous, Black, Latinx, Asian-American, disabled, neurodiverse, and more. If enough people said “enough is enough,” I believe we could begin to see real change in our lifetimes. This would be more than friendship, and it would go beyond allyship — it would be accompliceship, and it’s what we need right now.
Today, I am asking everyone who is reading this who cares about justice, equality, respect for humanity, and the belief that queer lives matter — that my life matters — to move beyond caring and to move into action. Sitting around feeling shocked, helpless, guilty, pity, or even just ‘caring a whole lot’ won’t change things. Taking action will.
Today, I am tired of having this conversation. Whenever some horrifying violence like this happens, I appreciate the straight friends who thoughtfully DM or email to let me know that they’re thinking of me or asking if I want to talk to them about what’s happening. TBH I don’t. I don’t need to have another conversation about how hate-based violence is awful. I already get it. I’ve experienced it personally. It happens every day in America. And most of the time it doesn’t make headlines. LGBTQIA+ folks are four times more likely to be victims of violent crime — we experience 71 victimizations per 1,000 people, compared to 19 victimizations per 1,000 straight folks. Queer and trans women are five times more likely than cis straight women to experience violent victimization.
As GLAAD has reported, “Assaults and criminal acts may involve only a single victim [or a single event], but perpetrators often intend to send a message that LGBTQ people are legitimate targets for abuse and violence.” This is why it’s not enough for you to be upset. You need to have conversations about this with other straight and cisgender people who need to be engaged into action. I need you to join hands and fight for us the way you would fight if the same kind of destruction was coming for you. The way things are going, it already kinda is. There is hardly any group left in this country who hasn’t become the target of hate-based violence or a mass shooting. Except, well, y’know, that one.
How you can help (3 min read)
There are many ways to fight back. It would be a mistake to feel helpless just because marching in the streets isn’t something you want to do. Here are a few ideas if you’re drawing a blank:
You can set up recurring donations at organizations that work to make it possible for LGBTQIA+ people to thrive. Where to donate:
GoFundMe for the funeral expenses and medical expenses of Club Q victims
Community United Against Violence
National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs
The Center for Black LGBTQ+ Equity
The Marsha P Johnson Institute
Sage (Supports the care and well-being of older queers for a community that often lacks elders)
You can also give directly to queer and trans folks who have active GoFundMe campaigns. Countless numbers of LGBTQIA+ people who have been kicked out, shut down, and discriminated against, and could use your support.
You can call and write your politicians. You can do everything in your power to demand gun control.
You can stop tolerating homophobic jokes, and you can have hard conversations with the people in your life who make them. You can tell them that you will not accept hateful words because they fuel hateful violent actions.
You can educate yourself. You can read books to get past whatever internal blocker has prevented you from having these conversations with people in your life so far. You can also read books by queer authors in all genres. Learn more about what our lives are like. It ain’t always rainbows and sunshiney days.
Please don’t disregard the power of direct communication with people in your life. Speak to the people who you think it will be hard to talk to, especially the ones who secretly or not-so-secretly harbor homophobic, transphobic, and prejudiced views that contribute to making the world continually unsafe for queer and trans people and other marginalized groups.
Speak to that friend who made a fucked up comment at a party last year.
Speak to the liberal friends who think voting Democrat once a year is enough.
Speak to the family members that you never talk about this topic with.
Speak to the “really nice” people who you’re certain couldn't be biased but who you’ve never had a conversation with about queer and trans rights with.
Speak to your straight friends and family members about why it is not queer people’s responsibility to dismantle homophobia and transphobia.
When someone says a homophobic/transphobic slur or remark in front of you, let them know in clear language right away that it’s not ok with you. You can say:
“That kind of language isn’t ok with me.”
“Those kinds of jokes aren’t ok with me.”
Asking someone to further explain homophobic jokes can also be effective. Example:
You: “I don’t understand the joke. Can you please explain it to me?”
Them: [more homophobic comments]
You: “So…why is that funny?”
Them: Because [further homophobic comments]
You: “Well, people get killed because of prejudices like these, and I don’t think that’s very funny, so please don’t make comments like this around me any more. I have some friends who are in the LGBTQ community and I don’t like you saying hurtful things about them, any more than I’d want someone saying hurtful things about you.”
I know these conversations are hard. I have had many conversations over the years (thankfully many years ago) with friends or acquaintances who made homophobic comments. Sometimes they were able to come around and be more respectful and inclusive, and our friendship got stronger as a result of these hard conversations. Sometimes my friends weren’t able to learn, or they chose bigotry over respecting me so we’re not able to be friends anymore.
It may give you jitters to broach these conversations but please do it anyway. It gets easier with practice. You’ll likely need to do it multiple times. I sure have. But it’s worth it. The alternative is the heartbreak we are living through right now, knowing that it won’t end and it might come more frequently.
Make a list, check it twice (1 min read)
Notice how many comments or posts you’ve read or made on social media post regarding the latest mass shooting at a gay club. Or, if at the time you’re reading this, the news is about some other mass shooting at fill-in-the-blank setting where this should never happen (because this should never happen at all).
For every headline or online comment you’ve read or posted, make a list of 5 friends who are not from the affected community. Then go initiate a real conversation with them directly about what you’ll do to support the affected community.
Every time you hear something in the news about violence against the affected community, initiate a conversation with someone on your list. When you run out of names, list more names. Don’t only tell people in the affected community how much the news bothers you — go tell people who aren’t in the affected community. The more powerful, financially resourced, and well-connected those people are, the better. I am not kidding.
Obviously, I don’t know your race, gender, or sexuality, but if 1,000 people read this post and initiated five conversations each, that would be 5,000 conversations that would never have happened otherwise. If each of those people initiated five more conversations, it would be 25,000 conversations that never would have happened and potentially 25,000 more people making a commitment to anti-violence, pro-humanity action in an ongoing way. As it rippled outward, it could seed millions of opportunities for meaningful change where it matters most: with the people who are not already engaged... with people who have settled into complacency, thinking that because they don’t do explicitly prejudiced things, then they’re not benefitting from privilege or contributing to the senseless violence of our current reality.
"But I don't know what to say" (2 min read)
When you initiate these conversations with other straight people in your life, try not to get stuck in a loop saying stuff like, “Wow, things are so bad. Aren’t you shocked? I’m shocked. This is unbelievable, this has to stop…”
Ask your non-LGBTQIA+ friends:
• “Will you join me in making a long-term commitment to making the world safer for our queer friends?
• “Can we brainstorm ways to take action for LGBTQ rights and safety on a consistent basis?”
• “Will you hold me accountable and bring it up to me when I stop being focused on this?”
• “Can we role-play tough conversations and share our most successful conversation starters and responses?”
• “Will you keep me from getting complacent when I start to act like being an ally just means being a nice person?”
• “Will you join me in creating an ongoing allyship book club, donor circle, and action group that won’t stop until our queer and trans friends are truly safe in this world?"
Here is a primer on the basics of using inclusive language when speaking to or about LGBTQIA+ people. Also worth checking out: What to say and not say when someone comes out of the closet to you.
Websites and resources where you can learn about the LGBTQIA+ experience and how to support your LGBTQIA+ friends
Articles and blog posts that will educate you about privilege and how you can use yours to create a safer, more equitable world.
Many of the books, articles, and resources on this list will help you figure out what to say. The more you say it, the easier it gets. Add one item on that list to your calendar daily or weekly until you’ve completed the entire list, then make a new list.
Supporting your LGBTQIA+ friends (4 min read)
Here are a couple of tips for engaging with your LGBTQIA+ friends right now, or after any time of violence against our community. Obviously, I can’t speak for everyone in our community, but I really think I’m not alone here...
When checking in: Take a break from asking your LGBTQIA+ friends the overly broad and generic question “How are you?” That question sucks. I’ve always been irritated by the vagueness of it, and it’s especially frustrating right now. “How are you” never has an easy answer, and the answer “fine” is garbage. “How are you?” can be especially triggering right now since any reasonable person can make an educated guess about how queer and trans folks might be feeling after our community has become a target for murderous violence. This question is also difficult because it puts the person you’re talking to in the position of having to explain themselves to you when they might not want to. It’s a way for the asker to take something that the other person may not feel ready or open to giving.
LGBTQIA+ folks who are angry, sad, afraid, or grieving are likely being inundated with that question and it can be triggering to hear it repeatedly from straight folks. But by all means, please reach out with loving kindness and offer your support. (Otherwise, all we notice is your silence.) If you know your friend’s love language, do something or give them something they would appreciate. If you send a text or DM, don’t be offended if you don’t get an answer back, and answer quickly, or if you get a very minimal answer. The person you’re reaching out to may be feeling overwhelmed and not up for talking much.
Do not say: “OMG, THIS IS INSANE. I'M SO SAD AND FRUSTRATED I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. ARE YOU FREAKING OUT? LETS TALK”
This is ok: “I saw the news about _____. I’m thinking of you and I’m here if you need anything at all.”
Even better: “I saw the heartbreaking news about _____. I’m thinking of you and I’m here if you need anything at all. I’m sorry that I haven’t shown up for you fully around this issue in the past. I’m dedicating myself to making the world safer for queer and trans folks. I initiated XX conversations with people in my life that I’ve never talked about hate-based violence with before and I won’t stop bringing this up in my network. I’ve reached out to XX of my political representatives to demand protections for LGBTQIA+ people. I set up recurring donations and am doing XYZ as well. I’m embracing the hard changes I need to make within myself so that I can be a part of the solution. I invite you to ask me direct and hard questions on this topic in the future. If there are other things you think I should do, I’m open and ready to hear. No need to respond if you don’t have energy or capacity, unless you want to. Thank you for your patience, and for your friendship. I love you.”
👉🏾 Important Note: Only say any of this if it’s true. If it’s not true, have some hard conversations with yourself about why. Also, some people won’t like this strategy since it puts some of the focus on the speaker instead of the person they’re reaching out to, but I personally like it because I literally don’t know which of my straight friends actually take action to be allies, and which of them just post on social media and think that’s enough. Not knowing, and wondering if I’m surrounded by straight folks who are “all talk, no action”, makes me feel even more alone. My love language is acts of service, so I want to know what action you’re taking. When I learn that a friend is doing more than I thought they were, it really means something to me. But don’t assume everyone who is queer or trans feels like I do. Ask your queer and trans friends what would be supportive for them. If you don’t have any queer or trans friends, then you can just check out my lists of actions above and use that as a cheat sheet.
In IRL conversation: If you have a call or hangout booked with a queer and/or trans friend that was initially set up as a time to talk about something else, and you now feel like talking about the most recent act of violence against our community, you must ask if your friend is open to conversation about that. Don’t assume that we want to talk about it with you all the time — or at all. If the purpose of the call was to talk to you about something else, definitely do not catch us off guard by launching into a long venting session about yourself and how many queer friends you have. Pause before you center yourself when you’re in the presence of someone who is likely to be grieving at a more intense level. Ask for our consent to enter this conversation with you, and offer to listen to your queer and/or trans friend first before you start talking about yourself. Ask if there are things that we do or do not want to discuss or hear about right now.
In the future, some good replacements for “How are you?" are “What's present for you in this moment?” or “You’ve been in my thoughts” or my personal consent-seeking favorite: “What would you like to talk about or not talk about today?” Here are hundreds of other alternative questions to ask.
Consider changing your default opening greeting in a conversation from a question that makes someone explain themselves to you (such as “how are you”), to an invitation for them to define the boundaries of the conversation around what would feel supportive for them.
Moving forward
While it may feel awkward or tiring to have conversations and make commitments like this, consider how tired we feel. Queer and trans folks don’t get to take a break from being harmed by homophobia and transphobia so you shouldn’t take a break either if you’re truly opposed to it.
And if you get any pushback from people who say they’re tired of hearing about violence against queers, tell them: “If you're tired of hearing about violence against the LGBTQIA+ community, work to create a world in which they are safe to live their lives without the threat of violence.”
Don’t take action because you feel sorry for us. Do it because you know that as long as we’re not free, you’re not free. Acknowledge that when you live in a society that accepts oppression and hate-based violence, you don’t live in a healthy society. Even if it doesn’t affect you personally, it affects the world that your friends, neighbors, coworkers, classmates, and constituents live in, which determines the lives that they — and you — are or are not able to freely live.
“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere…Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly.” — Dr. MLK Jr.
Thank you for being a friend.
Kat Vellos
Author of We Should Get Together: The Secret to Cultivating Better Friendships
and one last thing…
1. If this resource will help you have even one important conversation, I accept your donation for the value that you think this guide provides. It has been a very long day but I’m up late writing this because it matters. I created this resource because I want this post to be the solution for anyone who says “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say.” Now you do. Creating this resource took multiple hours of work and emotional labor. I want to be helpful—and my labor is also worth something. After you have donated to the GoFundMes and organizations that I’ve listed above, you can thank me with a tip on Venmo at @katvellos or at paypal.me/katvellosauthor
2. Please amplify this piece. I want it to help as many people as possible. Here’s how to do that in a way that would feel supportive:
If you’re an individual who wants to reshare it on your personal social media account or emails, you have my permission — go for it and thank you — just tag me on it. I’m @katvellos_author on Instagram. I’m on LinkedIn as Kat Vellos, and though I anticipate leaving Twitter shortly, my profile is still there as @katvellos.
If you’re a business, membership organization, or media institution who wants to syndicate this piece on your blog, newsletter, magazine, social media or other media: I will likely say yes but please request permission first before sharing. Email is fine but even faster is to send me a DM on Instagram. Consider offering a donation with your request to reuse my content. If it’s good enough to share, then it’s good enough to make a contribution for the work that went into creating it.
