Nancy Haque's parents understood discrimination — after moving to the U.S. from Bangladesh, they endured threats, even glass under the tires of the family car. But Haque says the discrimination she faces as a queer woman is different.
"As the child of immigrant parents, it's not like I had to come out as being South Asian," Haque laughs. "But I think that we didn't talk about discrimination."
Every time there is a mass shooting in the United States, there is a flurry of concentration on those who died, the alleged or confessed perpetrator, and the sobered, devastated town that will be forever changed.
Then at some point, the press caravan moves on — from Sutherland Springs, from Orlando, from Las Vegas. And within weeks, or sometimes just days, another mass shooting is being reported.
The public attention moves on, but those affected families don't.