The three-year anniversary of the Pulse nightclub massacre came and went this summer.
Now, plans are beginning to crystallize for a memorial at the shooting site and a museum several blocks away to honor the dead and injured. Organizers are set to unveil design proposals to the public on Thursday.
Good. The time has come for a proper and enduring tribute to those whose lives were ended or altered on that terrible Orlando night.
Done well, a memorial and a museum can pay homage to victims and provide information and context to help us understand not just what happened but what we can learn from it.
We’re aware of the contrary view that while a memorial is appropriate, a museum is not. That a museum will capitalize on tragedy and become a lurid tourist attraction. That an entrance fee and a museum gift shop would capitalize on human loss.
Some opponents of a museum prefer just a memorial as quiet place for reflection. We respect the opinions they’ve earned through profound grief and loss.
But a memorial alone would limit the ability to preserve the memories of those who died. It also wouldn’t provide a place to learn, which is the role a museum can play.
The debate over how to memorialize tragedy isn’t new.
The greatest tragedy of modern human history was the targeted, systematic killing by the Nazis of 6 million Jews in the mid-20th century.
President Carter’s decision to appoint a commission to study creating a Holocaust memorial was followed by arguments over the commission’s membership, who should be memorialized, where the museum should be located, how it would be funded, even how much technology would be appropriate.
But the effort endured and today the museum is considered among Washington’s best, a tribute to those who suffered in the past and an educational resource for today.
The World War II memorial in Washington faced criticism because of its location on the National Mall between the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument.
The design of a memorial in Pennsylvania for the United Flight 93 passengers — whose heroics stopped a plane from reaching Washington, D.C., on Sept. 11, 2001 — was criticized by some who believed it contained “Islamic symbols.”
The National September 11 Memorial Museum in New York City was criticized on a variety of fronts, from its design to its exhibits to its gift shop, which at one point featured a tacky cheese platter shaped like the United States, with points marking the locations of the terrorist attacks.
Gift shops are a tricky business. They produce the revenue a museum needs to keep its doors open and fulfill many tourists’ desire to take home something as a keepsake.
The Pulse museum will have a gift shop, which the museum’s operators will need to curate with the same care as the exhibits. That’s especially true because of the museum’s location in Orlando, well known for its tourist tchotchkes.
The strongest argument for a museum, however, is the human and social context it can provide. Pulse wasn’t just a nightclub. For some it was a refuge, a place of acceptance, especially for the Hispanic LGBTQ community.
The poisonous atmosphere in our country today provides an even more powerful argument for telling the story of communities that endure mistreatment because of who they love or the color of their skin or an accent in their speech.
We understand the challenges this effort faces. It needs to have leadership that’s effective, credible and diverse. Its decisions and actions must be open and transparent. Opposing voices should be heard, not dismissed.
So far, the leaders of this effort have largely adhered to those ideas. They seem both sincere and compassionate.
But there’s little room for error. Orlando’s emotional wounds are still raw.
We’re looking forward to seeing the designs, and ultimately to seeing a memorial and museum that help the city heal from its worst day.