We can have mixed feelings about Charlie Kirk's death

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Therapists say it's normal for marginalized communities to feel shared, even indifferent, after the death of someone who persecuted them for years.

For many LGBTQ+ people, Charlie Kirk was the epitome of hostility. This far-right political commentator and founder of Turning Point USA frequently denigrated LGBTQ+ people, calling trans people from” True fingers of honor to God ”, describing homosexuality as a danger for children and calling LGBTQ+ identities a “social contagion”.

Kirk also made racial remarks, including wondering if He would feel safe if a pilot were black And claiming that God had cursed black people by making them “servile”.

As a resident of Arizona and the founder of one of the most important conservative groups in the state, both on Capitol Hill and on college campuses, his death was met with mixed feelings, especially among the LGBTQ+ community.

Charlie Kirk was shot dead this week while speaking at a university event, in what appears to be a political assassination. Shortly before he was murdered, he answered a question from a member of the public about mass shootings.

Reactions to his death highlighted deep divisions in American society. While the media and political leaders called for peace and recollection, often minimizing or glossing over Kirk's racist and homophobic remarks, there was little sadness among some members of the LGBTQ+ community and other groups targeted by his rhetoric.

“It's normal to not feel a lot of empathy for someone who has made a career out of refusing to empathize with others,” therapist Jeff Guenther said in a message posted on his very popular TherapyJeff Instagram account. “That doesn't mean you're celebrating their death. It does not mean that you are insensitive. It just means that your compassion has limits, and those limits are often determined by how compassionate a person has been in their lifetime.”

Online, many messages don't go anywhere: a meme circulating on Instagram has this message: “This ultra-violent country requires that we grieve for the people who wanted us dead.”

Other messages from people Queers, quickly pointed out that Kirk had called for Nuremberg trial against doctors who provide gender-affirming care, or qualified trans people as” Groomers ” (people who prepare children for sexual abuse) or pedophiles.

Bre Wandrych, a Phoenix-based social worker who works with LGBTQ+ clients, said that her reaction reflected greater complexity: “Part of me is sad because a man is dead as a result of an act of gun violence—I think that no one should die in such circumstances,” she said, explaining that she had taken the time to fully understand his emotions. “But part of me feels nothing for the a man who stood up for white supremacy and bigotry. Part of me may be horrified at the sight of an explicit video of a shooting, and another part may be resentful because our community does not have the same level of support when they are victims of violence.”

According to M^Me Wandrych, conversations about empathy are key to overcoming moments like this.

Researchers define different types of empathy: cognitive empathy, which allows people to understand the perspective of others; emotional empathy, when people reflect the emotions of others; and compassionate empathy, which motivates people to take action. But trauma, grief, and what's called “empathic fatigue” often determine how much empathy people are capable of.

“When customers ask me, 'Should I be ashamed that I don't care about him dying? ' , I see this as a personal judgment that adds to emotions that are already difficult,” says M.^Me Wandrych. “Often, these questions come from people who pride themselves on being empathetic, but who feel conflicted when they are unable to extend that empathy to someone who has hurt them,” the therapist continues.

She compares this to how survivors of domestic violence may respond to the news that their attacker has died. “If you have experienced repeated abuse, it's understandable that you don't feel sad when that person goes away,” explains M^Me Wandrych. “That doesn't mean you're cruel, it just means you're human. Our ability to empathize is influenced by the extent of the damage someone has done to us and how safe we feel,” she says.

According to M^Me Wandrych, for LGBTQ+ people, these conflicts are amplified by collective trauma. “This year alone, more than 900 bills that could have a negative impact on transgender and non-conforming people were introduced,” she recalls. “This is in addition to decades of systemic discrimination. When you carry this historical weight, it changes the level of empathy you can—or should—expect from yourself,” she points out.

For M^Me Wandrych, the bottom line is that empathy is not unlimited, and that doesn't make someone immoral. “They're complex emotions. Almost every feeling that people are having right now is valid,” she adds.

Psychologist Travis Munnerlyn, who works with patients Queers in Arizona, shares this view, saying that the assassination of Charlie Kirk creates what is called a “complex trauma.”

“This death makes no sense, we didn't expect it, and so it's complicated,” he says. “There are many things that make this situation complex. So it's a complex trauma for different people, for different reasons, and how we grieve someone who has died is personal and individual. It is ridiculous to think that there is a model that we are all supposed to adhere to,” he said.

He notes that, for communities frequently targeted by Kirk's words, the lack of empathy is less about cruelty than about survival. “It's not insensitivity. It's self-protection, explains Mr. Munnerlyn. Expecting targeted communities to empathize with their attackers is ignoring the traumas they have experienced. They've built stories to protect themselves, which basically say, “This person is dangerous.” Therefore, when the abuser dies, their reaction may simply be, “Good for me.””

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