Today, reflecting again on these notes as debate wages around me, I realize my impact has been too insignificant. I realize the uniqueness of my story is not that my dad is Muslim and I grew up in small town Iowa, it’s that I came out with the luxury of time and allies in the form of friends and siblings. [...]
Another young man wrote me to say my video is the first time he heard the words “gay," “Muslim,” and “Palestinian” from the same mouth. He thanked me for making him feel so not alone. What initially made me feel good now makes me feel sick: It’s not acceptable that an agonistic, 30-something, New Yorker who works in advertising is one of a handful of people this young gay Muslim can look to for hope. We need more visibility urgently. [...]
When I spoke with my dad briefly on Sunday night we mutually expressed grief and disgust, but our conversation was limited to the literal act of terrorism, the tragic loss of life, and the horrific ease of getting a gun. Any mention of the LGBT victims was noticeably absent from our chat.
We love each other, we accept one another, but we don’t confront his discomfort with my gayness. He doesn’t ask me who I am dating, and I don't tell him because I’m uncomfortable, too. Even passiveness on such a small scale can no longer go unchecked.
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