A Community United: The Colorado LGBTQ Family Moves Forward

By now, we in the LGBTQ community have read about or experienced the heartache of the November 19 event that occurred at Club Q in Colorado Springs. Many of us in this mountain state awoke on the following Sunday morning to messages from friends or family as we took in the news and promptly reached out to the next person. Whether we reside in Colorado Springs, neighboring Denver, or in cities or towns across the world, reminiscent feelings of discrimination or violence from earlier times or more recent injustice towards our community, like Pulse in Orlando, has undoubtedly sparked emotional waves.

During the 18 years since I came out, I have often referred to our collective queerdom as a global community. In my early days of discovering my own identity, I found that I could walk into an LGBTQ establishment anywhere and be greeted with an instant sense of welcome—an attribute that is perhaps more unique to our group than any other.

I remember my first gay bar, while visiting Montreal at the age of 19, when I struck up a dazzling conversation with two bartenders and was finally able to connect with others over feelings I had only kept inside. I recall venturing out to my first LGBTQ nightclub in college, and to my surprise, realized that friends I had made around campus all knew each other as we conversed and laughed about our busy week. Or my first gay bar in Denver, JR’s Bar & Grill, which I visited solo while I scoped out my future city and was welcomed to join a vibrant group of friends on their evening outing.

These establishments all had something in common—safe spaces for people like us. Places where someone like me can put his arm around or share a dance with a person of any gender. My stories in these spaces are like many others’ in our community—memories of finding ourselves, making lifelong friends, and simply having a place to express ourselves in truth and freedom. For LGBTQ youth, stories like these must be allowed the chance to be written.

On Monday after the events of Club Q, I attended a vigil at Tracks Nightclub/Reelworks Denver, a place I have frequented with friends over the last 15 years. Images of brightly flickering candles and the pride-flag lit Club Q logo adorned screens around the event center. Bartenders poured fizzy vodka sodas, smiling to patrons like me through the weight of what they must be carrying to support our gathering spaces.

Despite our shared solace, faces lit up as eyes met those of familiar community members. Statements like “I’m sorry that we’re here for this, but it’s good to see you” and simple but assured affirmations of “I love you” filled the air. Queer and straight allies from our community and government lined up beside the stage to express their continued fight for our right to live as who we are. Passionate voices echoed our shared pain and dreams of a safer world from the microphone. As many as three thousand were estimated to have gathered here on this chilly November night, one of many remembrances; in each, its attendants taking comfort in each other’s presence.

Our Colorado LGBTQ community, and our global community, is collectively mourning both the loss of life of five beautiful individuals and the invasion into our sacred spaces during this season. While the words to adequately describe what many are feeling may escape us, I also have taken notice of an unparalleled uprising of support from our chosen families.

I, for one, have experienced indescribable appreciation for simply being able to share some conversation or presence with our people. Our safe space owners and staff have given us their absolute best and continue doing so as we move forward. While this event never, ever should have happened to us, I also believe that we may grow closer together than ever before, defying a dark action meant to fracture by instead uniting us with luminous resilience.

Before I left the vigil that evening, I looked across the gathering in that space and remembered that while we may feel despair at times like these, our network of hopeful individuals spanning this state and this planet is an immovable force of character and spirit unlike any other. Beneath the multicolored lights of this usual dance floor, I was encouraged again to do what I do and to be part of our queer family—unashamedly, outrageously, and proudly.

If you are struggling right now, OFM is here to support you. Information on resources available to our community can be found here.