Take a stand against hate crimes and gun violence.
June used to be my favorite month. Now it brings a flood of mixed emotions and heartbreaking memories. My best friend, Drew, was born on June 1, the kickoff to Pride Month. We promised to always be together to share these special occasions. But that all ended on June 12, 2016, when Drew became one of the 49 victims killed in the Pulse Nightclub shooting. He would have turned 35 this year. Now, instead of celebrating with Drew, I’m honoring his memory with action, fighting for equality and freedom from gun violence. I met Drew Leinonen the very first week of college at a gay-straight alliance meeting. It may sound cliche, but we had an instant connection. Right when we met, I knew we’d be friends forever. We spent the next four years doing everything best friends do in their formative years. We stayed up late talking about life, relationships, and what we wanted to do after college. We’d go out dancing at least twice a week, Drew hitting the dance floor like a maniac with what I called “loving force.” He took me to Pulse nightclub for the first time and we spent endless nights there, dancing until we could barely walk.
When I learned Drew was killed in the very place we shared countless memories, so many questions filled my head. What were Drew’s last thoughts? What was the last song he danced to? Where was he in the club when he was shot? In time, most of my questions were answered. All but one. Why are people targeted for who they love? I still don’t know.
Drew’s death and the shooting at Pulse nightclub garnered national attention, but the LGBTQ community is the target of hate-motivated violence every day. And hate, when armed with a gun, too often becomes deadly. In an average year, over 10,300 violent hate crimes involve a gun — more than 28 each day. Hate crimes have risen every year for the past several years, and anti-LGBTQ bias-motivated 17 percent of hate crimes in 2017. Already this year, at least six transgender women have been shot and killed in the United States — all of them black women.
After Drew’s death, I spent my days looking at photos from college, replaying memories in my mind and barely having the energy to walk my dog. But after a month I decided I had enough of feeling hopeless. I knew I had to get back into advocacy and remind people we are still fighting hate crimes and violence against LGBTQ people, and why common-sense gun laws are so important.
Drew started the first GSA at his high school in Seminole when he was 17 years old, and won the Holocaust Museum’s Anne Frank Humanitarian Award for his efforts. In his memory, I co-founded the Dru Project with Drew’s friends, a nonprofit organization to provide scholarships to LGBTQ+ youth. To date, we have provided over $30,000 in scholarships and have created and distributed curriculum for gay-straight alliances in Florida to honor Drew’s legacy.
I also got involved with the Everytown Survivor Network and Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America. I spoke at rallies and testified against dangerous gun bills. I met other survivors and learned that gun violence affects every community in America. And while bullets do not differentiate for race, religion, or sexual orientation, some communities are impacted more disproportionately than others.
The month of June has taken on a deeper meaning for me than ever before. The combination of Pride month and Gun Violence Awareness month, coupled with Drew’s birthday and the anniversary of his death gives me a renewed sense of purpose. This June, and every June to come, I will recommit myself to saving lives. And doing it with pride.
So happy birthday, my darling Drew. I hope you’re proud of what we have done. We won’t stop fighting for you — or for an America free from hatred and gun violence.