Colorado Springs opens new LGBTQ community center nearly 18 months after Club Q shooting

A mass shooting inside a popular LGBTQ nightclub more than 30 years after Colorado earned its “hate state” moniker raised questions over whether Colorado Springs could resolve its legacy as a place of faith-infused conservatism, where the queer community did not mesh with the most vocal leaders’ idea of family values.

Now, a new central hub, called the Prism Community Collective, intends to build a sense of belonging and reflect the open-ended needs of people who survived the Club Q shooting in 2022 and others in the city’s LGBTQ community.

“It’s kind of putting them in the driver’s seat to figure out what the next steps are and what their journey looks like,” Prism site director Stoney Roberts said. “And that can be playing PlayStation for a couple hours during the week, that could be coming to get clothes that affirm you or that you don’t have access to, or being able to take a therapy appointment here in a safe environment.”

The center was formed after 18 months of conversation with the queer community following an attack that left five people dead, 18 others wounded and shattered the little sense of safety that some felt. 

“With a community that’s been so under-resourced and so underserved, it was important to allow folks the grace to come to us whenever they were ready. And I think this year and a half has really been that,” Roberts said. 

The need for community connection and sense of belonging were top requests, he said. The center will also help people access a range of resources, including counseling and gender-affirming care.

Colorful stars, many of them painted by Club Q survivors, line a doorway in the front of the center, one with the message: “You are not alone.” Several rooms inside the building are named after the lives lost in the Nov. 19, 2022, shooting: Daniel Aston, Derrick Rump, Ashley Paugh, Kelly Loving and Raymond Vance Green. 

One room, called the gender-affirming closet, offers a place for people who identify as trans or nonbinary and may not feel comfortable shopping in public, to try on and take donated clothes home for free. People can read in the “Lavender Library,” where donated books about LGBTQ issues line rainbow-colored shelves. 

First photo: Goddess puts donated books on the shelf of Prism Community Collective’s Lavender Library. Second photo“Stars of Hope,” many of which were created by Club Q survivors, decorate the walls of Prism Community Collective during an open house celebration May 22, 2024. .(Mark Reis, Special to The Colorado Sun)

Roberts said he found his queer identity at Club Q, one of the few places he could go to connect with people like him. But as a recovering alcoholic, he found himself looking for more sober queer-friendly spaces. 

Being queer and Black, he also remembers the struggle to feel heard by a primary care doctor in the city.

“It was something that, for a while, was just very daunting to navigate,” Roberts said.

Prism also offers a free online database designed to connect people with inclusive health care professionals who prioritize LGBTQ+ people and their needs.

The story behind the name “Prism” highlights the staff’s commitment to reflect the needs of the community, Roberts said. 

“We’re listening, we’re learning,” he said. “This is a two-way mirror — we’re looking and folks are looking back and we need to make that a collaborative process.”

“A place where we can live our truth”

In developing Prism, organizers had to be open to criticism, lean into discomfort and center community voices to understand the flaws in the existing systems designed to support the LGBTQ community, said Amber Ptak, CEO of Colorado Springs-based nonprofit Community Health Partnership.

“We have to learn how to take accountability as leaders for the failed systems that we perpetuate every single day,” Ptak said during an open house for Prism last month.

In the aftermath of the Club Q shooting, a group of people began meeting to talk about the need for greater access for resources for the queer community and possibly resurrecting a pride center that was shuttered in 2015, leaving a gaping hole in the region, said Rachel Keener, the nonprofit’s LGBTQIA2+ Health Equity Project Manager. 

The acronym in Keener’s title is for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer and/or questioning, intersex, asexual, two-spirit and other affirmative ways people choose to self-identify.

The group advocated for something different from a resiliency center, which are often created in communities after major traumatic events, like in Aurora following the 2012 theater shooting. 

First photo: Jo V Killian, left, and Ash Kruse join others during Prism Community Collective’s open house celebration. Second photo: Attendees play a game in the Lavender Library. (Mark Reis, Special to The Colorado Sun)

“I think this community is really resilient, they’ve been resilient, they’ve continued to be resilient,” Roberts said. “But the truth is, they shouldn’t have to be resilient in the face of some of these barriers, in terms of access and things of that nature. So this is a space where a community can be empowered to access the things that they need.” 

That group, made entirely of LGBTQ+ people, also helped create questions for a survey that was distributed online and in a more accessible print format. The data, which will be made available to the public online, will help the Community Health Partnership advocate for resources and funds, Keener said. 

The nonprofit, which is the lead sponsor of Prism, has hired four staff members, including a Club Q survivor, who will guide the work at the center and gather feedback to continue addressing community needs. The center is funded primarily through state, federal and private grants. 

I also just love being queer. I think it’s one of the best things in life. This is a place where we can live our truth and we can be the colorful people that we are.

— Sarah Banta, community resource specialist

Sarah Banta, a community resource specialist at the center, said she grew up dreaming of a place like Prism after realizing the spaces she could feel accepted in her hometown of Colorado Springs were few and far between. 

She said she believed people in Colorado Springs had the capacity to create a safe space and organized a support group for the queer community to come together.

“When I found out about Prism, I just wanted to be here so badly because it’s something I dreamed of my whole life. I think it’s super important for us to have sober spaces as queer people,” Banta said. 

“I also just love being queer. I think it’s one of the best things in life,” she said. “This is a place where we can live our truth and we can be the colorful people that we are.”