MY ATTACK CHANGED MY LIFE. LET’S WORK TOGETHER TO MAKE SURE THIS NEVER HAPPENS TO ANYONE AGAIN.
Christian Council, Oklahoma City
Photo by Sarah Phipps for The Oklahoman
In the blink of an eye, we sometimes find ourselves in situations that we never would have imagined we’d be in. Just like a car accident, the sudden passing of a loved one, or losing your job, these moments can materialize in a matter of seconds and bring us to our knees. Leaving you stunned, and not knowing where to turn or what to do next. On June 27th, in the blink of an eye, I found myself in this exact situation.
Getting out of my car in a dark parking lot, I was brutally beaten by three people. These people were in a truck, parked in the middle of the lane. I honked so they would move. After moving, they followed me to my parking spot and exited their truck. As soon as they saw my friend and me and could tell that we were gay, the gay slurs started flying. “Are you two a couple of c***suckers?” And, “You f*ggots think you can honk at us?” Before I knew what was happening, I was being shoved into a parked car. When I tried to push the first attacker off of me, the other two joined in and beat me. They pinned me down and didn’t stop beating me until I was unconscious. They broke my rib, gave me a concussion, broke my teeth, gave me a black eye, and gashed my face open in three places. They screamed hateful and demeaning gay slurs as they kicked, punched, and kneed me. One of them restrained my friend from helping me, and they continued beating me even after I lost consciousness.
The next couple of weeks were very hard. As I recovered, I laid in bed with the drapes shut and the lights off. I struggled. I cried a lot. My mind wandered into some places that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I kept thinking, “Was this my fault?”, “Why did these people hate me so much?”, “Why wasn’t I strong enough to defend myself?” The list goes on. My mind would flip-flop almost daily between: “Just get over it, Christian. Sometimes people get beat up. Stop making this a big deal.”, and “What happened to me IS a huge deal, and I’m not going to stop until these people are punished for what they did to me.” The mental back-and-forth was exhausting. The anxiety was debilitating.
During the days and weeks after my attack, I received so much love, support, and kindness from hundreds & hundreds of people around the country, and even around the world. What I witnessed was so raw, and so beautiful, it still moves me to tears to this day. It was genuine, selfless, human compassion. It was love in its highest form.
People rallied behind me. Total strangers sent me cards, love letters, money, food to my doorstep, etc. A lot of the support came from beautiful people right here in Oklahoma. People that I had never met came to my side and took care of me. Among those who came to my aid were my new friends at Freedom Oklahoma. Freedom Oklahoma staff called me right after the attack and asked what I needed. They called/texted me daily. They told me about Freedom Oklahoma and explained that it existed for people like me. Executive Director, Allie Shinn and I became fast friends. With her calming voice, she told me that she loved me. She told me that Freedom Oklahoma’s mission in life was to make a world where nothing like this happened to a queer or trans person ever again. A friendship was born here. Through Freedom Oklahoma, I’ve been connected to all kinds of resources. They coached me through media interviews. They made me laugh and listened to me cry.
In our talks, Allie explained to me that I was not alone, and educated me on the fact that atrocities like what happened to me are still happening to queer and trans people all over the country. With the largest percentage of the victims being Black, trans women. I had to make a decision on how I wanted the rest of my story to play out. Do I let it die, or keep taking it to the next level? Because my story received so much news coverage & social media attention, I decided that I wanted to use my assault as an opportunity to raise awareness and create a voice for all those victims that came before me, and for the victims that will, unfortunately, come after me.
You see, in the weeks I spent working closely with Freedom Oklahoma, and observing the organization and staff’s passion for the queer/trans community, I came to a harsh realization about myself. For 28 years, I have not been an advocate for my community. Sure, I’ve attended the galas and happy hour fundraisers, but what have I REALLY done for the underdogs in my community? Who have I DIRECTLY helped? It was a moment that made me check my priorities and my privilege. And make no mistake, just because I grew up in trailer houses and we had no money, doesn’t mean I don’t have a heck of a lot of privilege. I’ve been living in my bubble, paying little attention to what’s happening to the people in my community facing the greatest vulnerabilities.
One thing I know to be true is that people will grow into the conversations you create around them. My assault, and Freedom Oklahoma, both created a conversation around me that I’ve had to grow into. And it’s forced me to face some things about myself that I need to change. On the flip side, it’s motivated me to do more. To be more. To help more. So, ask yourself, “What conversations am I creating around the people in my life?” “Am I an activist and advocate for ALL of my community, or am I a bystander?” You may be surprised at what you discover. It’ll be the honor of a lifetime to join this battle with Freedom Oklahoma and, I hope, with you.
Much love,
Christian Council
pronouns: he/him/his