Jerro Brought Happiness Just Before Tragedy

Content Warning mentions of: transphobia, homophobia, gun violence, recent events

My name is Frankie Rose. I am raving, concert working, autistic, music obsessed, nonbinary transgender 90’s kid writing this just a few days after another LGBTQ+ club shooting. Delivering this late article from Saturday November 19th through any other lens is simply impossible.

Going out, especially to a club, has not been a frequent thing for me since the events at Pulse in Orlando, and then topped on with pandemic precautions and gov’t events. I was absolutely stoked to be invited into Jerro – and at Colorado’s Meow Wolf Convergence Station, in the Perplexiplex! Learning some time ago that this massive creation harboring venue would also host music, I knew stopping in was a must.

I was absolutely stoked to be invited into Jerro – and at Colorado’s Meow Wolf Convergence Station, in the Perplexiplex!

The building entry experience isn’t something I would normally pen in, but now it is forever important and completely relevant. Being a queer person, security isn’t always a pleasant thing to go through so I look for the other “queer” people and choose their line. Sometimes this could mean simply that their hair is teal or they have a rainbow pin on their lanyard – I’m looking for safety. The person who checked my camera-junk-filled bags gave me zero hassle and sent me to the ticketing counter to show my (binary) driver’s license. Two people checked me in, and even after seeing it, they just called me “friend.” I cannot tell you how much this means to a person like me and how much we undoubtedly notice and think about it later when addressed in such a fashion. Stresslessly into the magic music room, I floated.

The forest painted walls were enchanting. Projecting nature’s growth – mushrooms, color, movement – made the room feel alive and breathable. More crowd shuffled in as we waited for Jerro. A few people types stood around as security guards. It was nice and noted seeing different ages and variances in those positions. I also appreciate the bar being outside the party doors to sort of separate that commotion from the show.

Saying “hello” and sliding us into his world with originals, Jerro came out energetic and ready. The mass of dancing people started to wave into itself. Meshing sunrise feels in the progressive melodic house, he moved happiness through the space. Layering his tracks, he was getting us closer to the seaside vibes. Pushing us through feelings with sound, he bonded us together for just a little while. Sometimes I think we feel like we can conquer anything if the music moves us to tears just right. Eventually, I had to talk myself out the door and back into normal life.

Jerro came out energetic and ready. The mass of dancing people started to wave into itself. Meshing sunrise feels in the progressive melodic house, he moved happiness through the space.

Waking up on Trans Day of Remembrance to find an active shooter and hate crime had occurred at Club Q in Colorado Springs with five dead, was completely devastating. It solidified exactly why I have been afraid to go out. LGBTQ+ people aren’t safe in the places we are told to hide to be safe. We have to blend in at the places we already aren’t safe. Imagine what it’s like to be one of our Black or Brown friends in the queer community – facing racism and homophobia and transphobia all the time. Some of us can “pass.” Some of us refuse to look how homophobes and transphobes want us to. Some of us MUST pretend to be things we aren’t purely for our own safety.

Until there are more (real) safe spaces for us in the real world, like Meow Wolf felt, we are not safe. We are not safe in our own spaces. Until we are safe in society, we will not be safe in our own segregated places. Until guns are regulated in a reasonable manner, we will not be safe. Media’s constant fake news push of our community of being groomers, encouraging violence on us when we just want to exist, and lying about our healthcare being damaging is only making everything worse for this incredibly marginalized group of humans.

I woke up and read the news of people like me being murdered in the place they were told it was safe to be themselves. I had not been out for years to a show like this. I stay away from them because I’ve already been afraid. I’m afraid every day that I might not “pass” well enough for the wrong person. I get scared I’ll have to go to the bathroom in public because what if I choose wrong? The internet tells me every single day that I’ll “never be a man” or “never be a woman.” No matter how much I agree, the attacks come in.

I’m not sure who said it but “visibility without protection is a trap.”

Your queer friends just want to be themselves (and go to the bathroom when we need to), but you have to protect us. Yes, you. Don’t get me wrong, a transgender woman hero stomped that gunman down with our Veteran friend’s help and no cops in sight, but we need to know we’re safe with you. Yes, it’s personal. Yes, it matters how you vote. Yes, it matters personally to us who you choose to represent you.

After I thought about my night at Meow Wolf, I couldn’t help but remember all the LGBTQ+ people I saw and how lucky we were. Mustaches with rainbow scarves. Short hair holding on to their tall person. Nonbinary people, looking fashionable as always. Then I remembered the teal colored hair at the entrance, where at most places I tend to get hassled. And then the two people who called me “friend” instead of trying to figure out my gender, even after seeing my ID. Then standing in the venue next to a security person with lots of piercings and tattoos and probably 10 years younger than me. I felt safe there. Not because they had guns, because they didn’t. The people who looked like me and let me be me, made me feel safe.

Thank you Meow Wolf for your visibility. Thank you Jerro for playing for us. Thank you friends for checking on your LGBTQ+ family. We need you now more than ever. 

To the 5 who had their lives stolen: 

Daniel Aston (he/him)

Raymond Green Vance (he/him)

Kelly Loving (she/her)

Ashley Paugh (she/her)

Derrick Rump (he/him)