Love and Hate: Where Do We Go From Here? by V. Faye Jones, MD, PhD, M.S.P.H. Assistant Vice President for Health Affairs/Diversity Initiatives

The distinction between love and hate was on full display in the month of June. The life and death of Muhammad Ali shows us the glo-ry, the feelings of goodwill in our community, the nation and the world, and what we are capable of as a people. The tragedy of Orlando demonstrated the destruction we are capable of as individuals.

As I watched the processional as it left the funeral home and began its journey for the nineteen mile trek across the county I was filled with pride and happiness, not the usual sadness of observing the passing of an individual. Alas, Ali

was not the typical individual. Ali was a complex man who didn’t shy away from his convictions. A man who used his words to make social and political change. Later in life, a man who silently spoke through action instead of the vibrant voice that made him famous. The streets were lined with thousands of peo-ple. People of all races, ethnicities, religions, nationalities, sexual iden-tities and ages were there. They understood the importance of this one black man; the impact of one man, a black man from Louisville, KY. A black man who grew up in West Louisville; the hope he in-

spired. A person who started out like many of us with dreams and goals but who was an overachiever in every sense of the word. Ali was a man who lived by six core princi-ples (confidence, conviction, dedi-cation, giving, respect and spirituali-ty) and encouraged each of us to

find our own principles by which to live. As I stood in the hot sun waiting for the Ali processional to reach Hancock and Broadway the crowd continued to grow, the excitement was mounting. People were peering from the middle of the street to gauge the progress of the proces-sional. Finally, the helicopters were visible above. Then as they slowly moved in the sky they hovered over us. The energy of the crowd was electric as we knew it was time. We parted from the middle of the street to let the slow moving pro-cessional pass. Flowers were being

thrown on the lead car, the hearse. Only a small area of the driver’s windshield was shielded from the barrage of flowers. People were chanting ALI! ALI! Signs were waved. There was an air of knowing that we were witnessing history. A history of nothing but love. Love in

Celebrating Diversity June 2016 NEWSLETTER

The Aftermath of Orlando: No More Normal P. 3 Reflections on the Legacy of Muhammad Ali P. 5 Upcoming Diversity Events P. 7

Acceptance, Respect, Understanding, Inclusion HSC Office of Diversity and Inclusion, Diversity Committees , & Commission on Diversity and Racial Equality

SPECIAL EDITION: The Juxtaposition of Ali’s Legacy and Tragedy in Orlando

Crowds filled Broadway for Muhammad Ali’s funeral procession

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its purest form from a world that may not be witnessed again by most of us. As the processional passed I followed with my eyes, wanting to make sure I remem-bered every moment that had oc-curred. I thought I had experienced a wonderful gathering and apprecia-tion of a black man from West Lou-isville, then the memorial service began. Although I knew many things about Muhammad Ali, this simple but poignant service gave me a new realization of how im-portant he was to the world. Once again, the crowd was diverse – the famous sitting with ordinary alt-hough Ali considered everyone special in some way; the apprecia-tion of a multitude of religions and the admiration of people in gen-eral. Multiple speakers represent-ed a piece of Ali’s life and the im-pact he had across the world; alias, the influence of one man. One of Ali’s many famous quotes was “Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth.” Ali paid his rent in full and more and left a blueprint for us all to fol-low. I left the memorial with a de-sire to be a better person, to try to live my life in the service of others, to try to make a difference. Then Orlando happened... How could a nation go from love to senseless violence and hate in just 2 days. The shock of waking up Sunday morning to the news of so many people killed and injured was unreal. Could this really be hap-pening? I asked myself, “What type

of person would purposely target a population of people because of someone’s sexual identity?” All I could think was how this was con-trary to what we had just wit-nessed a few days before when we celebrated differences and the na-tion was one. The enormity of the tragedy was unfolding before our eyes. My heart ached as I watched the news over and over again in disbelief. Each hour the numbers seemed to increase. I listened to the mothers as they were asking for help locating a love one. How they could be so brave was beyond reason. I cried with each as they replayed the images one more time. In total 49 people were killed and 53 others were injured that day inside Pulse. They ranged from 18 to 50 years of age. Many were of Hispanic/Latinx ethnicity. It was the deadliest mass shooting by a single gunman in the United States and the deadliest terror attack

since 9/11. So many individuals lost their lives that night, so many dreams unmet. How do you make sense of something that is senseless? A quote from Charles Darwin states, “There are dark shadows on the earth, but its lights are stronger in the contrast.” We see too many dark shadows but we can’t let it obscure the good that has taken place. There are no words to fully express our anguish but we have the ability to reframe how we re-spond. Sometimes the most pain-ful of times reinforces our ability to build upon our strengths. That is what is occurring; the memorials across the nation have shown a nation in mourning, but also a na-tion that is strong and willing to stand up for all its citizens. Like the teaching of Muhammad Ali, we must abide by his principles and remember each of the lives lost and be a beacon of light to rejuve-nate the path yet to be made.

One of the messages of love and support from the UofL community collected by the LGBT Center

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In the Aftermath of Orlando: No More Normal by Chaz Briscoe Program Coordinator, Sr. LGBT Center Satellite Office on the Health Sciences Center Campus

“… try and imagine what it would be like to go to sleep and never wake up. Think about that… if you think long enough about that, something will happen to you. You will find out, among other things, [that] it will pose the next question to you. What was it like to wake up after having never gone to sleep [at first]? That was when you were born… [So] you see, you can’t have an ex-perience of nothing; nature abhors a vacuum. So after you’re dead the only thing that can happen is the same experience, or the same sort of experience as when you were born.” – Alan Watts When struggling with life’s chal-lenges and my place in the world I often look to my all-time guru, Alan Watts, for answers; which lately after the tragedy in Orlando, I’ve found myself needing more and more. Throughout his lectures, and often in interviews, Watts framed death as harder on the sur-vivors than the ones we let go. For those of us still living existence be-comes all we know. Day to day, moment by moment all we know is to survive. We mourn the dead, but more so selfishly – the future we had dreamed they would be a part of, the memories we were go-

ing to make. We miss their pres-ence, hearing their voices, or see-ing them walk through the door. And yet in all of our projection we forget it is us, not them, who are still hurting. We neglect ourselves and save our sympathy for the dead while storing trauma and sad-ness and grief inside our bodies. We forget to look at ourselves as we unpack and repackage our trau-ma. We spend more time thinking about the dead than about how as a community we are all hurt and needing healing. Understandably, picking up the pieces becomes an act of survival. Taking one breath after another becomes an act of resistance. We

practice the mundane until suc-cessfully, gradually, we lull our-selves back to sleep. We tamp down our anxieties and eventually return as best as we can to a state of normality. Often getting back to a normal routine includes going back to work, and for me, similarly, this meant going back to the LGBT Center. As the program coordina-tor for the LGBT Center Satellite Office on HSC, and as a proud queer-identified Black person, my duties revolve around providing trainings through Safe Zone work-shops, the LGBT Health Certificate Series, and in providing trainings to medical providers about the healthcare needs of the LGBTQ

Victims of the Orlando shooting

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community. So as usual, the Friday before the Orlando tragedy I helped deliver a brief training on LGBT health concerns. Like clock-work I ran through my slides fram-ing the disparities, discussing how our assumptions betray our better judgement, and telling students how they might help forward LGBT health equity. But, now, I don’t want to go back to normal. In the wake of this tragedy, all the work I previously saw as important seems inade-quate. What if I take Alan Watts’ perspective and instead of pro-jecting my sympathies I thought about my own privilege to be alive - how I am those 49 people, how I contributed to their death, and how everyday death is all around me. Because isn’t that what the current moment demands? De-spite our busy preoccupation with survival we’ve always lived compli-cated interconnected lives of di-verse realities. Every day we strug-gle with the normal associations of life, our larger role in society, and our expectations as a part of the norm. We wear the masks of socio-economic status, societal conform-

ity, race, gender, and ability. Some-times we are up and sometimes we are down. Still, what if we refused to be complacent with how we see death, and with how we see our-selves? Over the next days and months we will learn more about the shooter, about gun control, our rights, and short-term remedies that could have prevented the massacre. The pull to normalcy will trick us into old narratives that will eventually get drowned out in the news cycle. However how can we remember the victims? How do we decenter the conversation? How can we remember not just their physical bodies, not just their memories, but their connection to humanity overall? The victims of the Orlando shooting left behind millions of LGBTQ brothers and sisters that everyday go unnoticed. They left behind a Latino communi-ty, a Black, Indigenous, Muslim, differently abled, and intersection-al community, that everyday suffers the worst of society: from police brutality to poverty, climate degradation, isolation, and health disparity. In our return to normalcy

how do we stay conscious of that reality? I offer that we continue to re-flect on ourselves. If we don’t know what something means, we will seek the information. We will remain humble on our journey. Be active. Probe the biases in which normality and invisibility allow us to become comfortable in. Consid-er our own societal norms of sexu-ality and masculinity, merit and victimhood. Explore our own be-liefs, the beliefs of our friends and our social environments. Challenge whether the routine settings of our own lives reflect our personal per-spectives of the world: in our workplaces, in our churches, at our schools, the restaurants we fre-quent, and in our homes. If we search these locations and all as-pects of ourselves, we will find that connection to humanity. Search and we will find ourselves amidst our tucked-away trauma. Examine ourselves and we will find our lives worth living. Not for our 49 broth-ers and sisters, but for the rest of us still here.

Stanley Almodovar III, 23 years old Amanda Alvear, 25 years old Oscar A Aracena-Montero, 26 years old Rodolfo Ayala-Ayala, 33 years old Antonio Davon Brown, 29 years old Darryl Roman Burt II, 29 years old Angel L. Candelario-Padro, 28 years old Juan Chevez-Martinez, 25 years old Luis Daniel Conde, 39 years old Cory James Connell, 21 years old Tevin Eugene Crosby, 25 years old Deonka Deidra Drayton, 32 years old Simon Adrian Carrillo Fernandez, 31 years old Leroy Valentin Fernandez, 25 years old Mercedez Marisol Flores, 26 years old Peter O. Gonzalez-Cruz, 22 years old Juan Ramon Guerrero, 22 years old

Paul Terrell Henry, 41 years old Frank Hernandez, 27 years old Miguel Angel Honorato, 30 years old Javier Jorge-Reyes, 40 years old Jason Benjamin Josaphat, 19 years old Eddie Jamoldroy Justice, 30 years old Anthony Luis Laureanodisla, 25 years old Christopher Andrew Leinonen, 32 years old Alejandro Barrios Martinez, 21 years old Brenda Lee Marquez McCool, 49 years old Gilberto Ramon Silva Menendez, 25 years old Kimberly Morris, 37 years old Akyra Monet Murray, 18 years old Luis Omar Ocasio-Capo, 20 years old Geraldo A. Ortiz-Jimenez, 25 years old Eric Ivan Ortiz-Rivera, 36 years old Joel Rayon Paniagua, 32 years old

Jean Carlos Mendez Perez, 35 years old Enrique L. Rios, Jr., 25 years old Jean C. Nives Rodriguez, 27 years old Xavier Emmanuel Serrano Rosado, 35 years old Christopher Joseph Sanfeliz, 24 years old Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan, 24 years old Edward Sotomayor Jr., 34 years old Shane Evan Tomlinson, 33 years old Martin Benitez Torres, 33 years old Jonathan Antonio Camuy Vega, 24 years old Juan P. Rivera Velazquez, 37 years old Luis S. Vielma, 22 years old Franky Jimmy Dejesus Velazquez, 50 years old Luis Daniel Wilson-Leon, 37 years old Jerald Arthur Wright, 31 years old

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Reflections on the Legacy of Muhammad Ali

Each summer, the Health Sciences Center Office of Diversity and Inclusion hosts the Professional Education Preparation Program (PEPP) for rising college freshmen from across the Commonwealth interested in health ca-reers. The 2016 PEPP scholars had the unique oppor-tunity to attend “The Greatest's” funeral procession pri-or to visiting the Muhammad Ali Center the following week. Many of our students were familiar with Ali, but it wasn’t until this experience that they truly understood his impact. What follows are a sample of reflections on Ali’s legacy from our PEPP participants. Dr. Faye Jones and Darryl Young discuss the significance of Ali with 2016 PEPP stu-

dents prior to the June 10th funeral procession

Common Man’s Hero by Maria Shields 2016 PEPP Participant Hometown: Bardstown, KY

Acceptance is a right, not a priv-ilege. For generations, countless collections of racial groups, reli-gious affiliations, and socioeco-nomic assemblies have separated our world into “boxes” predeter-mined by stereotypes and miscon-ceptions. While categories and classification can serve as advanta-geous methods of separating unique qualities from that of nor-mality, the separation of America’s cultures has always been and will continue to be the cause of our country’s social degradation. A simple court case in 1896, de-termined not only the building, facilities, and locations in which a colored individual could reside, but also determined the self-confidence a colored individual would place upon their own exist-ence. Plessy versus Ferguson was far more than an unjust court case;

it was the physical beginning of a period in which people of color lost a sense of identity in society. To many, this Supreme Court deci-sion was the boundary between social isolation and freedom. While many individuals chose to let racial segregation determine their worth, there was an extraor-dinary individual who insisted that he was “The Greatest” despite many of his predetermined char-acteristics. Muhammad Ali was a young man who was born and raised in Louisville, Kentucky; one of the most heavily segregated cities in the nation during his child-hood. As is any other young child, Ali was impressionable beyond meas-ure. However, the impression set forth by those around him were ones in which he held no interest. Discrimination, exclusion, and ra-cial profiling were all ideas that were not in Ali’s functioning vo-cabulary. During my experience at the Muhammad Ali Center, I learned

far more than the timeline of Ali’s life; I began to develop a genuine appreciation and understanding of the type of individual Ali constant-ly strove to be. During my time at the museum, I immediately be-came submerged in the details of the six core values that Ali acted upon in his daily life. These core values included: spirituality, re-spect, giving, conviction, dedica-tion, and confidence. Each of these values of Ali’s life was directly a result of the intrinsic motivation and passion he held for service to others. Even as someone who has lived near Louisville for the duration of my childhood, I was unaware of the immense impact Muhammad Ali has had our society until the PEPP Program. After the unfortunate passing of Muhammad Ali, the city of Louis-ville began an even closer knit community standing for their lost hero. Individuals of all ages, races, religions, socioeconomic statuses, locations, and backgrounds gath-

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ered for one simple cause; the celebration of a true hero. No longer was the community separated my seemingly immobile “boxes” categorizing each of us. While I may have only been living in Louisville for one week, it is evident that Louisville is unparalleled in care, culture, and inclusion for all. While the passing of Muhammad Ali is no doubt devastating, it is crucial to continue to celebrate Ali’s passion in his fight towards justice. I am certain that our generation can learn numerous lessons from Muhammad Ali and his six core values. However, beyond these core values, a legacy remains. Muhammad Ali’s legacy will not only remain eternal in the walls of his childhood home and a functioning museum, but will also remain active in the hearts and minds of the many who consider Ali a true inspiration.

Reflections on the Ali Center by Kelsey Cole 2016 PEPP Participant Hometown: Salyersville, KY

Draft dodger. Arrogant. Lazy. That was the picture that had been painted in my mind of the man by others before I first walked into the Muhammad Ali center; however, seeing the procession Friday, and hearing bits and pieces of Ali’s life that I didn’t know before signaled to me that perhaps I hadn’t been told the entire story. Before you walk into the orien-tation theater in the Ali Center, there is an exhibit of Ali’s poetry; so it turns out, he was a writer. It was Alice Walker who said, “Deliver me from writers who say the way they live doesn't matter. If art doesn't make us better, then what on earth is it for.” As I read Ali’s words and recalled Walker’s, so came my second signal that there was more to this man. Waiting for the orientation thea-ter to open up, I explored some other nearby exhibits. I knew Ali was a religious man; I had heard of his courageous public statement of belief in Islam. When I walked over to an exhibit about his spiritually, however, I learned, beyond that,

Ali was a humanitarian. Out of all of Ali’s words, these were the ones that I took away with me: “Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on Earth.” By the time the doors for the orientation theater opened, my mind was open and my heart was ready. Who was this man, really? I learned Ali was a man of con-viction, not a draft dodger; he stood for his beliefs. I learned Ali was a man of confi-dence, not arrogance; he knew his worth even when no one else did. I learned Ali was a man of deter-mination, not laziness; he was re-lentless in the pursuit of his dreams. I learned Ali was a man of art; we share a favorite poem (If by Rudyard Kipling). I learned Ali was a man of style; he practically danced in the boxing ring. I learned Ali was a man who was a human being, but was rarely treated as such. The story of Ali’s life is one of hard work, of confidence, of poise, of human struggle, of human tri-umph. By the time I left the Ali center, I knew that Ali had in him everything that was right with the world.

I went back to my dorm room and found myself thinking of my upcoming first semester of college. What would my classes be like? Would I make new friends? What kind of clubs should I get involved with on campus? At that last thought, I smiled, slid out of bed, and got a pen. In my planner, I wrote: “Remember to pay your rent.”

Perspectives from an Ali Ambassador by Fadumo Abdullahi 2016 PEPP Participant Hometown: Louisville, KY

As an ambassador of the Mu-hammad Ali Center and a repre-sentative of the legacy of Muham-mad Ali attending his Funeral was one of those to live for moments. The procession and the funeral were both absolutely beautiful and it showed the love and the unity of people no matter what their reli-gion is. To see faces of people from every corner of the world was truly heartwarming. Muhammad Ali meant a lot, a fighter for social jus-tice, and true representative of the religion of Islam. Muhammad Ali has been an influential person in my life. He is a figure that I look up to. Muhammad Ali’s principle of respect has given a sense of wor-

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thiness in myself but also in others around me. He is an inspirational person to me and influenced me to work hard and share my voice. Most importantly Muhammad Ali inspired me to believe that one person can change the world with the principles of respect, confidence, conviction, dedication, spirituality, and giving. As a member of the Muhammad Ali Center Council of Students I’m committed to improving myself and my community through the practice of Muhammad Ali’s six core principles. As a youth-led organization, we make de-cisions that guide the course of our service work and leadership development. Sharing stories with the council of students built my leadership skills and boosted my confidence level. At every meeting we have an opportunity to learn more about civic engagement, to meet local leaders, to participate in fun and exciting fieldtrips, and to dia-logue with our peers on pressing social issues. We meet and engage in dialogue with community leaders and in-spirational speakers. This program helped me find my voice for social change, and understand the value and pow-er of giving. With the knowledge and experience I gained from Muhammad Ali Center Council of students I hope to effect positive public policy and administrative changes. I will use the knowledge I acquired from these leadership op-portunities in college in beyond to create and promote opportunities for civic engagement, and improve the con-ditions that hinder education attainment for economically challenged neighborhoods.

Cooking Matters Thursdays, June 2—July 7 11:00am Redeemer Lutheran Church, 3640 River Park Dr. Contact: Dr. Karen Krigger

Support for Orlando Blood Drive Wednesday, July 20th 1:00—6:00pm Red Barn, Belknap Campus Sign up here

Health Sciences Center Poverty Simulation Wednesday, July 27th 9:30am—12:00pm CTR Room 101/102 Sign up here

Community Festival and Health Fair Saturday, July 30 10:00am—3:00pm Redeemer Lutheran Church, 3640 River Park Dr. Contact: Dr. Karen Krigger

Save the Date: UofL LGBT Health Summit Monday, September 12 8:00am—4:00pm More information here

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Upcoming Diversity Events