When Safety Is Violated in Plain Sight
Today, many of us are carrying grief, anger, and disbelief after watching footage and reading reports out of Minneapolis.
Renee Nicole Good, a queer woman and mother of a six-year-old boy who had already lost his father, was shot and killed by federal agents while attempting to leave a parking space in front of her own home. She had paused to allow another vehicle and a federal vehicle to pass. As she continued to pull away, agents rushed the driver’s side window and pointed a gun directly at her face. She was killed in front of her wife and their dog.
There was no visible weapon in her hand.
There was no imminent threat apparent in the video.
There was no justification that makes this acceptable.
What makes this even harder to absorb are the details that followed.
A neighbor, who is a physician, attempted to reach Renee and assess her vitals after she was shot and was blocked from providing care. An ambulance was also prevented from accessing the scene. Paramedics ultimately had to approach on foot.
Medical care was delayed when every second mattered.
This was not only a violent loss of life. It was the obstruction of care after harm had already occurred.
We also learned small, tender details about who Renee was: her glove compartment reportedly filled with small stuffed toys that belonged to her little boy. A person who thought about joy. About connection. About kindness.
Renee Nicole Good was someone’s wife.
Someone’s mother.
Someone who brought softness into ordinary places.
She deserved to leave the parking spot in front of her own home to avoid the danger ICE agents posed.
Her wife and small child deserved to keep her.
Their life together deserved to continue.
For Queer Families: Your Nervous Systems Are Not Wrong
If you are queer, raising queer kids, or deeply connected to queer community, your body may already understand what your mind is still trying to process.
When violence happens in broad daylight (especially when it is captured on video) and when authority is involved, it activates deep survival instincts for communities that already know what it feels like to be scrutinized, targeted, or dismissed.
Your reaction might look like:
Anger that feels volcanic
Fear that settles in your chest or gut
Numbness or dissociation
Hyper-vigilance
Grief that feels personal even if you didn’t know Renee
None of this means you are overreacting.
It means your nervous system recognizes danger and injustice.
That’s not fragility.
That’s intelligence.
For Parents: This Is Why Safety Cannot Be Abstract
Parents often tell me they want to protect their kids from “politics.”
But safety is not political.
Violence is not theoretical.
Power misused is not an academic debate.
Our kids live in bodies. They live in communities. They absorb what they see.
When queer kids witness violence - especially when medical care is obstructed, when authority escalates instead of protects - their nervous systems quietly ask:
Will this happen to me?
Will anyone protect me if it does?
Will help be allowed to reach me if I’m hurt?
Am I safe in this world?
This is why we don’t minimize reality.
This is why we tell the truth with steadiness and care.
This is why we grow parents so children don’t have to carry adult fear alone.
We Can Hold Grief Without Becoming Numb
You are allowed to be devastated by this.
You are allowed to say this should never have happened.
You are allowed to feel furious about systems that repeatedly produce preventable harm.
What we don’t do here is normalize violence, excuse it, or pretend it is inevitable.
We honor Renee Nicole Good by refusing to look away.
If You Need Support Right Now
If this news is bringing up fear, anxiety, grief, or overwhelm - especially for LGBTQ+ youth and families - support is available:
The Trevor Project (LGBTQ+ youth): 866-488-7386 or text START to 678678
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: call or text 988
Crisis Text Line: text HOME to 741741
LGBT National Help Center: 888-843-4564 (Youth: 800-246-7743)
VictimConnect Resource Center: call or text 1-855-484-2846
You do not have to carry this alone.
We hold Renee’s wife and child in our hearts.
We stand with queer families carrying this weight today.
We remain committed to building real safety, not comforting illusions of it.
Rest when you can.
Hydrate.
Breathe.
Your nervous system deserves care too.
- Rainbow Roots
