| |
Preventing Hate Crimes
by Geov Parrish
So Matthew Shepard is now a member in good standing of the Martyrs to Hate
Crime Hall of Fame. The national attention seems to mark a breakthrough in
straight people's willingness to put a human, sympathetic face on queer
America. Part of me is ecstatic that a reported 700 people cared enough to
come out on a rainy night, on less than 24 hours' notice, for a vigil to
remember the life of a complete stranger 1,500 miles away and to express
revulsion at his brutal and senseless murder. Vigils were also held in Los
Angeles, San Francisco, on the steps of the U.S. Capitol, and 2,000 showed
up in his adopted home town of Denver.
But part of me is troubled by this phenomenon, at least in Seattle. Here's
why:
The queer community can't have it both ways. We can't say, on the one
hand, that Shepard's death is remarkable, and on the other, that lethal
gay-bashing is a major societal problem. If it is, why aren't we vigilling
every week? Why the reaction to this particular case? In point of fact
there have been other vicious gay-bashing deaths that haven't gotten this
sort of national attention--but they, too, have been isolated incidents.
The real dangers, and hassles, of being gay in a homophobic world are
generally much less stark.
OK, so groovy hip liberal Seattle turns out when a gay man is brutally
murdered. When a black man was brutally murdered in a small town halfway
across the country in a remarkably similar circumstance--clearly motivated
by bigotry--a few months ago in Jasper, Texas, there was no such outcry, no
lawmakers working the phones as Ed Murray did to turn out vigillers, no
repeat promotional announcements on KUOW, no extensive local TV coverage.
Why? The answer, or at least one of them, seems obvious: when privileged
white gays are scared and angry in Seattle, it's news. When African
Americans feel the same things, well, what's new?
The statement being made by those 700 folks is, presumably, that there's
still bigotry and hatred in our society. Then why have the turnouts for
public events opposing I-200--an initiative premised on the idea that
racism no longer exists--been so comparatively sparse?
The vigil was organized in direct conflict with another vigil, three
blocks away on Capitol Hill at the same time, that had been planned for
weeks. That was for the less popular cause of opposing state killing:
namely, to commemorate the assisted suicide of convicted killer Jeremy
Vargas Sagastegui, as well as all victims of violence. Due to uncertainty
over an appeals court stay of execution, lousy weather, and the conflict
with Shepard's vigil, nobody showed up except the organizers and speakers.
No media, no vigillers, nobody.
What does this tell us about our priorities? As citizens of Washington
State, every one of those 700 or so folks who came out to remember Matthew
Shepard were having a murder committed in their names (and with their tax
money) that very night. Not one connected the events and chose the
public murder yet to happen as the more important one to protest. It raises
a host of troubling questions, about what constitutes an "innocent" life,
and who decides who deserves to live or die. If it's a couple drunk bar
assholes, that's bad, If it's some judge who's a bigoted creep (as some
are--and a high proportion of the executed, like Sagastegui, are
non-white), that's a death fueled by bigotry, too, but so what?
Which brings us back to hate crimes. Bill Clinton, proving he can still
sniff political opportunity when his nose isn't jammed between some
intern's thighs, pounced on the Wyoming murders as a chance to promote a
federal hate crimes bill, the Hate Crimes Prevention Act. (Which, you'll
note, prevents nothing--it merely punishes.) The bill has death
penalty provisions. Clinton has already shown he can execute the retarded,
so expect that he will play to the crowd by urging that we expand the death
penalty yet again to include thugs like the perpetrators in Laramie and
Jasper.
The problem is, capital punishment is still murder. What state-sponsored
executions lack in messy brutality they make up for in sheer
cold-bloodedness. And this raises a troubling question: how much of that
vigil's attendance was a recognition of the fragility and sanctity of life,
and how much of it was self-centered fear and rage? A racist death penalty
is a form of hate crime, too. Such a crime should not, with the Hate Crimes
Prevention Act, be celebrated in Matthew Shepard's name.
|