Isolated and Afraid in a Small Town

Abstract

Living in a small southern town, my narrative performance explores the anger, pain, and, at times, privilege of isolation when not having a queer community with whom to publicly mourn following the massacre at Pulse nightclub in Orlando. Complicating this further is my dissonance as to whether or not the Orlando Latinx community is, in fact, my community at all to mourn. When finally finding and attending a vigil a town away, my identity as a queer femme woman was pushed to the side to make way for anti–second-amendment speeches, a political campaign opportunity, and a Muslim man trying to prevent Islamophobia. Weaving the metaphor of the brewing storm with my narrative of the problematics of small town advocacy, what unfolds is a collision of my identities crashing into my prejudicial thoughts and ideas, despite espousing “good liberal,” antiracist, and intersectional politics. Ending with more questions than answers, I narrate the ways in which difference is erased in my small town, and yet, how simultaneously those of us fighting for social justice learn to negotiate challenges together, forging coalitions between people of differences.