Queer Grief

I start this morning with a heavy heart, having just read a news article about a local boy, nine years old, who recently committed suicide. This summer he had come out to his mother, who had affirmed his identity. Sadly, some of his classmates didn't, and they bullied him. Subsequently, he killed himself.

Leia Pierce with her son Jamel Myles, 9. (Photo from the Denver Post, courtesy of Leia Pierce via Facebook.)

It's tragic beyond words when any person, any young person, any young queer person, takes their life, but in the context of a course on queer justice, it's especially so. And to be honest, we can never really know all the factors that go into such an act, but it's hard not to see a connection between homophobic bullying and the pain and desperation I imagine Jamel Myles felt.

In this exact moment, there's not much we as a community can do, except grieve. And honor this young person and his family. Hold them all in the light. Sit with a mother's pain and acknowledge the deep loss that Jamel's death represents.

And yet, we must also do more. We must hold ourselves and our communities accountable. We must continue to fight for our lives and create a world in which queerness can flourish. We clearly have much more work to do. And as we start this course together, let's hold Jamel close to our hearts. And in some small way, dedicate our learning this semester to resisting the inhumanity that killed this child. It's the least we can do.