Pulse Memorial Crosswalk: More than Concrete

   9 years ago, on June 12, 2016, 49 lives were lost, 53 innocent victims were wounded, and an entire community was shaken by the Pulse Nightclub tragedy in ways no one could have ever fathomed. Pulse was more than just a nightclub—it was a community for minorities under many umbrellas. Whether that meant being part of the LGBTQ+ community or a person of color in America, Pulse was a sanctuary in a world too often filled with hate. On the night of the shooting, Pulse was hosting Latin Night, largely attended by people of Latino descent. This heinous act of violence was a large-scale atrocity against two communities that continue to face some of the most extreme discrimination in present-day America.

     In 2017, a year later, the Florida Department of Transportation approved a rainbow crosswalk on the street next to the nightclub in honor of those whose lives were taken and those who continue to carry the pain of losing loved ones. The crosswalk was maintained and kept painted until 2025, when U.S. Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy issued a directive that all crosswalk art must be removed, claiming it posed a safety hazard. Overnight, the rainbow crosswalk was painted over, erasing a powerful symbol of honor for those we lost and for a place that once served as a refuge of solidarity and remembrance. Florida Governor Ron DeSantis criticized the crosswalk, saying, “We will not allow our state roads to be commandeered for political purposes.” Yet, there is nothing political about the fact that 49 people lost their lives in a space built for acceptance and love, regardless of sexuality, race, ethnicity, religion, or gender identity. The crosswalk was never intended as a political statement—it was a memorial for innocent members of our community forced to endure the very wickedness they sought to escape. The rainbow was not a “political statement”; it became a symbol of remembrance because Pulse was an LGBTQ+ club.

     A short stretch of rainbow pavement is a small token of appreciation in exchange for over 100 wounded hearts. These victims were people with families, friends, jobs, and futures they will never get to experience. Their families and friends must now live with the pain of seeing a memorial once dedicated to their loved ones stripped away overnight. While this crosswalk may mean little to the majority, it means everything to a mother whose child was taken too soon. It means everything to a closeted teen hoping for acceptance when they leave an unwelcoming home. It means everything to Orlando locals who bravely color the crosswalk in chalk, even while facing arrest and police surveillance.

     Continue to color the crosswalk. Continue to speak about Pulse and the impact it had on every community. We cannot allow history to suppress the tragic events of that day or the lasting pain that will endure for decades to come.

By Kyla St. Andrie