Out Impact Magazine Features Hate Crimes Work of Unfinished Lives Project
Out Impact, the Gay Online Magazine, has a feature news article on the work of the Unfinished Lives Project and its Director, Dr. Stephen V. Sprinkle, in its latest issue. Chrishelle Griffin, a graduate of Spelman College, carried out the interview with Dr. Sprinkle for Out Impact. In a portion of the Q & A, Griffin asked Dr. Sprinkle what he believes are the most glaring misconceptions about hate crimes against LGBTQ people. “Let me share two with you,” Sprinkle responded.. “The first is that LGBTQ hate crimes victims were engaging in ‘risky’ behaviors that contributed to their deaths. This is nothing but an internalized version of the old ‘gay panic defense’ that says we are somehow responsible for the victimization we suffer. I never met a gay hate crimes survivor who had a death wish,” Sprinkle said. “These women and men were simply trying to live what is normal for them. They were looking for love, seeking companionship, or whatever. Straight people do the same sorts of things all the time. We, however, live in a culture that makes our lives vulnerable—all of our lives, for every one of us. That is the message most of us never seem to get. As long as the majority culture permits some of us to be killed and maimed, every one of us is at risk.” Sprinkle then shared a further misconception that he wishes would be dispelled from the American mind: “Second,” Sprinkle went on to say, “the murders of LGBTQ people are not ‘tragedies.’ There is nothing tragic about murder. It is an outrage, a capital crime, an attack on the whole human race and the persons of the victims who are targeted, but not a ‘tragedy.’ People don’t get worked up over tragedies. They experience a catharsis from a tragedy, and then move on. Hate crime murder is a human horror perpetrated against some members of a group to terrorize the whole group. We must find our anger about this, so that we will act to stop these senseless hate crimes.” In response to Out Impact’s question, “Who pushes you to be better?” Sprinkle said, “Two groups of people motivate me to be better. The first group is made up of my students. I teach theology at Brite Divinity School, and the wonderful interaction I have with students continually pushes me to be better. The second group of people is made up of the family, friends, and lovers of the LGBTQ hate crimes victims I have met around the nation. Mothers, sisters, dads, children, co-workers, neighbors, broken hearted lovers: many of them have become “accidental activists,” shoved by circumstance into the glaring light of public advocacy because of the unspeakable horror they endured when hate took away someone dear to them. These are great Americans, and the notion of their courage keeps me going.” For the complete interview and a series of photographs illustrating the work of the project, go to: http://www.outimpact.com/activism/gay-rights/hate-crimes/steve-sprinkle-tackling-hate-crimes-lgbtq-community.
Remembering Charlie Howard: Murdered 26 Years Ago
Bangor, ME – Charles O. “Charlie” Howard was drowned to death by three young men at 10 p.m. on July 7, 1984. His murder was the first full-blown hate crime murder against a gay person to be recognized as such in all of New England, if not the whole United States. The young men, Shawn Mabry, 16, Jim Baines, 15, and Daniel Ness, 17, ran him down on the State Street Bridge in the heart of downtown Bangor, beat and kicked him brutally, and then heaved him over the the railing into the Kenduskeag Stream below. Charlie screamed that he didn’t know how to swim. At 12:10 a.m. the next morning, police rescuers found his drowned body a few hundred feet from the bridge. A large eel had wrapped itself around his lifeless neck. An autopsy confirmed that he died of drowning, most probably hastened by a severe attack of asthma, a disease that had plagued Charlie all his life. He was 23 years old. The young attackers spent one night in jail, and then were released without bond into the custody of their parents. LGBT folk and their allies were galvanized by the murder of one of their own, and a fledgling equality organization started in the state in Charlie’s memory. Mabry, Baines and Ness were tried as juveniles, and sentenced to an “indeterminate term” in Maine Youth facilities in South Portland. Because of the nature of the law for juveniles, the convicts had to be released by their 21st birthdays. Mabry and Ness served 21 months apiece. Baines, the youngest, served two years. Fourteen years later, in 1998, Matthew Shepard was murdered on a ridge overlooking Laramie, WY, also because he was gay. Without what had been learned so painfully in the loss of Charlie Howard, there might very well have been no frame of reference for what happened to Matt. Echoes of Charlie Howard still reverberate in Maine. Bangor voted a non-discrimination ordinance protecting LGBT people. Laramie has not done so yet. Maine has a state hate crime law on the books, and the government is fairly scrupulous in enforcing it. Wyoming has never passed such a law protecting its LGBT citizens. Supporters finally won permission to erect a monument to Charlie near the bridge where he died. There is no such monument remembering Matt in Laramie. Matthew Shepard’s story is know around the world. Charlie Howard’s has remained pretty much a New England story. But Charlie’s story has changed lives for the better. And in sheer effect, his supporters have won more respect and practical protection for LGBT people in Maine and New England than Matt’s has yet to achieve in the nation as a whole. We at the Unfinished Lives Project remember lovely, goofy, maddening, flaming, edgy, and graciously generous Charlie Howard today. He did not die in vain. We must work to see to that, for him and for all the sons and daughters of America who died just because of who they were and whom they loved. Rest well, sweet brother. We have not forgotten you.
Dallas Marches to Remember Stonewall
Dallas, TX – Hundreds rallied and marched through the skyscraper canyons of Dallas Sunday night to remember the 1969 Stonewall Rebellion, and to fight for human rights. The Stonewall Rebellion 41st Anniversary March and Rally formed at Founders Plaza near the famous JFK memorial, and marched though downtown Dallas, shouting “Harvey Milk was right/Come out of your closets and fight!” Marchers from throughout North Texas, as well as contingents from Lubbock and Tyler filled the streets with the sounds of activism. The route was chosen to maximize exposure to Dallasites throughout the downtown business and residential areas, and the sidewalks were lined with office workers, bus stop patrons, and café diners throughout the Main Street Corridor, even on a Sunday night. Media including the Dallas Morning News and the Dallas Voice, as well as other media outlets covered the event. Speakers including Jesse Garcia, C.D. Kirven, Michael Robinson, Nonnie Ouch, Rafael McDonnell, and Daniel Scott Cates gave powerful messages to the LGBTQ community as well as elected officials on the local, state and federal levels. They called for the overthrow of DOMA, the repeal of DADT, passage of a transgender-inclusive ENDA bill, and full Marriage Equality. The Rainbow Lounge Raid in Fort Worth last year was a continuing theme of the evening as well. Dr. Renee Baker of Youth First Texas called on marchers to support LGBTQ youth, especially in view of how vulnerable they are. Keynote speaker, Dr. Stephen Sprinkle, professor at Fort Worth’s Brite Divinity School, and Director of the Unfinished Lives Project, summed up the speeches with a call to remember Stonewall and act to expand human rights not only for the LGBTQ community, but also for other minorities, as well. Responding to the noisy Religious Right protestors who kept berating Rally attendees with loud preaching and scripture proof texting, Dr. Sprinkle reminded them that “whoever says they love God and hate their brothers and sisters is a liar, and the truth is not in them!” Spencer Young gave a moving testimony to those who have died violently at the hands of hatred and homophobia during the concluding Vigil portion of the program. He recounted the story of Nicolas West, murdered in Tyler in 1993 because he was gay. Tyler, he reported, has no memorial to West, who was shot multiple times by his murderers and left to die in a clay pit outside of town. But the Tyler community, where traditional values and negative attitudes toward LGBT people has predominated in the past, staged “The Laramie Project” in West’s honor, giving him a living memorial through the famous stage play recounting the aftermath of Matthew Shepard’s murder in Laramie, Wyoming.
Harvey Milk, Slain Gay Rights Pioneer, Honored Across the USA
San Franciso, CA – May 22 marks the first official Harvey Milk Day by action of the State of California. Milk, the first openly gay or lesbian office holder in American history, was elected to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors in 1977. Because of his advocacy for LGBT rights, especially the citizens of his district, Harvey was affectionately known as the “mayor of Castro Street.” In 1978, he was gunned down a few minutes after Mayor George Moscone faced the same fate at the hands of disgruntled former city supervisor, Dan White. The story is compellingly told by the Academy Award winning film, “Milk,” whose screen writer, Justin Lance Black and whose leading actor, Sean Penn, both received Oscars. In 2009, he was posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Honor. Milk’s legacy is immense, and it is only fitting that he is immortalized by this rare distinction in the Golden State. Only John Muir has been so honored in California before Harvey. Milk is the only gay person whose memory is enshrined in a day of festivities, education, activism, and remembrance statewide. Notable among his words was the famous line he used so often to open his speeches, “I’m Harvey Milk, and I’m here to recruit you!” Today, as California and and the nation at large struggle with the full inclusion and equality of LGBT people, racial ethnic minorities, women, and immigrants, nothing could be more pertinent than to recall Harvey’s life, and the qualities of passion and advocacy that continue to inspire and convert us to the cause of justice for all people. First, Harvey Milk was not a quitter. He ran unsuccessfully for public office multiple times, but refused to quit. The race for the finish line of justice is long, a relay, not a sprint, and he stayed the course until the voters caught up to him and to his vision of equality. Second, He refused to remain protected by the dubious security of the closet. Openly and publicly, Harvey owned his identity and culture as a gay man before the world. He called upon gays and lesbians everywhere to come out to everyone they knew, family, friends, co-workers, fellow students. He knew that when LGBT people are known as the real human beings we are, it is harder to discriminate against us than if we are mysteriously hidden by fear. Third, he demanded respect and full equality. Harvey knew that inequality for some of us–gay people, seniors, women, Asians, teamsters, youth–meant inequality for all of us. In his name, we should never support candidates or policies that compromise on equality for all. Rights are for all Americans alike–full rights, equal rights. Fourth, Harvey Milk understood that political and social justice is all about hope. “You gotta give ’em hope,” was Harvey’s most memorable mantra, and it remains true for today. Hope for justice is not about optimism. Optimism is shallow and may be easily frustrated by the unfairness of systems and circumstances. Hope, on the other hand, is realistic and muscular. Hopeful people are anything but passive. They are engaged, as Harvey was, in the effort to make the world a better place, for hope’s sake. Saturday, May 22 marks what would have been Harvey Milk’s 80th birthday. He died an untimely, violent death. But his life and legacy have paved the way for a better America, a more hopeful present, and full equality just over the horizon. That is why in cities and towns all across the United States, Harvey’s hope is rippling out, expressed in events, festivals, teach-ins and social justice rallies to remember the Mayor of Castro Street. Happy Birthday, Harvey! Happy Harvey Milk Day to us all!
Remembering the Mothers of Our Dead: A Special Comment
Mother’s Day is just around the corner. For the women who have lost children to the unreasoning hatred of LGBT hate crimes, this may be the most trying holiday of the year. Perhaps it is because I have met so many of them in the course of my travels and research, but I feel a particular debt of gratitude for the courage and loving tenacity of such great women, everyday, of course, but on this day of the year most of all. I cannot tell you how much I admire these mothers, and the other women related by blood ties and choice to the women and men who died because of hatred. All of them: the ones who kept their griefs private and out of the public eye, as well as those who found their voices to speak out for justice and against hate. But is especially for those mothers and grandmothers, aunts and sisters who have become advocates for us that I feel a keener debt of gratitude. None of these remarkable women dreamed they would ever become advocates for LGBT rights. Outrageous fortune and the deeds of malevolent ignorance forced them to face the worst prospect a mother could possibly face: the loss of a child to hate crime violence. All they wanted to do was grow old loving the children they brought into the world. But the long, crooked arm of homophobia and transphobia reached into their family circles and broke those circles apart. One by one, these brave women have found their voices, raised them in courtrooms, on the steps of city halls, in PFLAG meetings, at Pride events and vigils, before the glare of television klieg lights, and in the halls of Congress. These are the redoubtable women who refuse to let us forget their children, and refuse to let themselves or us rest until justice for everybody’s child finally comes to pass in this nation. They are the staunchest allies the LGBT community has, becoming the mothers of queer kids everywhere. Since they come from out of every class, religious tradition, ethnic background, status cohort, racial group, and region of the country, no single woman can possibly sum up them all. But when Elke Kennedy speaks out in South Carolina for her son, Sean, when Pauline Mitchell appeals to us not to forget her two spirit boy, F.C. in her Navajo gentleness, when Billy Jack Gaither’s sister Kathy Jo pushes her scooter chair toward the podium in Montgomery, Alabama, and when Pat Kuteles refuses to let the U.S. Army get off lightly for the death of her dear Barry, somehow all the women united by such pain gather with them and stand beside them. When Sylvia Guerrero, mother of transwoman Gwen Araujo, spoke in October 2009 on what would have been her daughter’s 25th birthday, she called upon us to honor our LGBT dead by reaching out to bring about a better world, “Light a candle, release a balloon, or do a good deed for someone less fortunate than yourself. Thank you for keeping [Gwen’s] memory alive after 7 years” (Examiner.com). The least that we can do is to honor the witness of these remarkable women by joining the struggle of justice and remembrance ourselves…and then one thing more. We can reach out to these women with our love, as a Psychology Today article suggests we do: “People get so uncomfortable and often feel the need to ‘error on the side of caution’ so as to not upset the person they care so much about. This, however, often leaves the mom simply feeling forgotten. A card, a phone call – even an email – wishing her a happy Mother’s Day can go farther than you could ever know. While she’s on her own path of redefining where she now “fits” on this day, you are helping her to know. She fits where every other mother fits – in the spotlight. She’s still a mom, and she still needs to know that she is viewed this way by everyone else.”
Pat Mulder, Ryan Skipper’s mom, once told me that for a grieving mother who buried her slain child, “there is no closure.” She and her husband, Lynn, soldier on, turning their sorrow into advocacy, wrapping their arms around gay and lesbian kids wherever they go to let them know everyone deserves to be remembered and loved. On this Mother’s Day, reach out to the women (and men} who have borne so much, and remind them with acts of loving kindness that like their children, they, too, are not forgotten. ~ Stephen Sprinkle, Director of the Unfinished Lives Project
The Long Ordeal of Craig Cohen
Fort Lauderdale. Florida – Over a year ago, Craig Cohen, 47, “the little guy with a big heart,” lost his life to a gay-bashing. He died October 7, 2009 in a coma from complications suffered from the fatal attack that crushed his skull in Oak Park on April 6. Since the night of his assault, Cohen never regained consciousness. Surrounded by his human family and friends, and the rescue animals who were his beloved “kids,” gentle Craig breathed his last in a hospice room. Six brain surgeries failed. The awful vigil by his bedside had come to a close. But the Ordeal of Craig Cohen is far from over. The four young men accused of attacking him, Pargu Leandro, 25, Victor Gonzalez, 21, Brandon Edwards, 19, and Chad Olah, 18, are still in the Broward Sheriff’s Main Jail, charged with first-degree murder. The courts, according to fresh reports on the Facebook honor site, “Love for Craig Cohen,” are moving at a glacial pace, plagued by motions to postpone hearings. Nothing can be resolved until two things are finally accomplished: First, the trials must bring to light the facts and the motives that prompted these four suspects to target Cohen and a second victim, David Villanova, and brutally beat these two gay men who were each alone and vulnerable on a dark street. The quartet are charged with stomping in Cohen’s face and skull, crushing his facial bones, blinding him, leaving him paralyzed and severely brain damaged. Reports suggest that the suspects took turns kicking him, laughing about what they were doing to the little man. The Broward Sheriff’s Office has considered this attack a robbery, and has investigated it that way, although the alleged robbers never stole a thing from Cohen. His Facebook friends write, “when Craig was found and taken to Broward General, he had his wallet, credit cards, cash and his watch.” Apparently one of the attackers kicked his cell phone out of his hand as he was trying to call 911. According to a report given to the Broward Palm Beach New Times, one of the bashers lifted the phone and gave it to a homeless man down the street. As the informant said to BPBT, that “doesn’t sound like a robbery to me.” From the beginning, his friends have firmly believed that their beloved Craig was killed because he was gay. Second, the cause Craig Cohen dedicated his life to must be supported: his determination to provide shelter and a home for animals who lost their human parents due to illness or sudden death. Craig was a long-time senior employee of the school board. He had barely a year to go before he could retire with 25 years under his belt, and open the shelter of his dreams. Since he was a boy, Craig had loved and rescued animals. He had purchased a tract of land out in the country in northern Florida for his animal sanctuary. Craig left behind his dog Eddie and his five indoor cats, orphaned by his death, just as the many pets left behind after the deaths of other human parents had been. Eddie was adopted by close friends. The cats, some of them 14 years old, were harder to place. The Craig Cohen Animal Advocacy Project (CCAAP), http://www.petprojectforpets.org, has been founded in Craig’s memory to find new parents for orphaned animals, in fulfillment of this gentle gay man’s dream. The LGBT community of Wilton Manors and Fort Lauderdale miss Craig Cohen. So do the food banks, the homeless shelters, and the animal protection agencies he worked so tirelessly to support. Craig will have his day in court, many days to come, it seems. Craig’s cause has found and will continue to find support among those who loved him, and those of us who have come to admire the “little guy with the big heart.” But his ordeal will not be over until senseless attacks against LGBT people in Florida and around the nation finally cease, and in their place we finally learn to treat each other at least as mammals, and not as things.
Remembering Sean William Kennedy (1987-2007)
April 8 would be Sean Kennedy’s birthday, if someone hadn’t killed him for being gay. Sean would have been 23. He would be doing all those things he loved to do on his birthday, according to his Facebook Profile: “Hanging Out, Music, “Playing” Music, Talking, Being Crazy,Going Out, Movies, Driving Around Being Crazy, Listening To Music, Watching My Shows, Clubs (When Im In The Mood)” But in the wee hours of May 16, 2007, a fun night at Croc’s Bar in Greenville, South Carolina turned deadly when a homophobic young white man took it upon himself to punish Sean for being “other.” Sean’s mom, Elke Kennedy, relates what happened that night on the home page of Sean’s Last Wish, a foundation she and the family established so that Sean’s memory would live on, and his story would continue to change hearts and minds about LGBT people in America: “[That night] Sean was leaving a local bar in Greenville when a car pulled up beside him, a young man got out of the car, came around the car, approached my son, called him a ‘faggot’ and then punched him so hard that it broke his face bones. He fell back and hit the asphalt. This resulted in his brain [being] separated from his brain stem, ricocheting around in his head. Sean never had a chance. Sean’s killer got back in his car and left my son dying there. A little later he left a message on one of the girl’s phones who knew Sean, saying, ‘You tell your faggot friend that when he wakes up he owes me $500 for my broken hand!'” Stephen Moller, Sean’s 19-year-old killer, was given virtually every break the legal system in South Carolina could give him. He was sentenced to 5 years for involuntary manslaughter by subtly shifting the blame to his victim, and pleading for special treatment because he had fathered a child. The sentence was shortened to 3 years, he was given credit for time served and for being a good prisoner. Moller was given an early release parole hearing in February 2009, but thanks to the efforts of his mother, his stepfather, and hundreds of letter-writing protestors from around the nation, he was denied parole. Even then, Moller, who had gotten his GED behind bars, was released on July 7, 2009, a full week early from the already short sentence he had served for killing a young gay man who did him no harm other than being who he was. The justice system failed Sean as it has failed so many before and since. Elke Kennedy has gone on to become one of the most courageous and effective witnesses to the rights of LGBT youth in the United States. Sean’s Last Wish Foundation is making a difference for LGBT young men and women every day. But Sean is gone. The loss of his life is inestimable to his family, to the queer community, to his friends, and to the world he made a better and happier place because of his unquenchable spirit. One of his favorite sayings rings as true today as it did when he first published it on MySpace and Facebook: “We Could Learn Alot From Crayons” he wrote: “some are sharp, some are pretty, some are dull, some have weird names, and all are differant colors… but they all exist very nicely in the same box.” Who was this funny, wise, vivacious gay soul? We read his words about himself, and catch just a glimpse of what we lost when hatred and ignorance took Sean away: “i am 19 and my name is sean. i live in greenville, sc. it is a boring city. i love to meet new people. i love hanging out with people, chilling, shopping and having have a crazy fun time. ill do anything , i can have a fun time doing anything. i can have a fun time doing anything. i am a fun and crazy guy. ill do almost anything.im always on. so dont be scared to leave me a message.” We wish we could, Sean, today on your birthday. It will have to suffice that we will work in your name, remembering you, until justice comes for all your people and ours.
Billy Jack Gaither Humanitarian Award Given to Birmingham Human Rights Champion: Hate Victim Remembered
Montgomery, Alabama – David Gary, a noted bank officer and dedicated LGBT activist well-known throughout Alabama, was awarded the Third Annual Billy Jack Gaither Humanitarian Award on Sunday, February 21, 2010. Mr. Gary is a master networker, and a true humanitarian. He is one of the founders of Integrity Alabama, the LGBT Episcopal advocacy group. The award was officially conferred during the 12th Annual Vigil for Victims of Hate and Violence, held on the steps of the state capital to commemorate the murder of Billy Jack Gaither of Sylacauga. Gaither, a gay man, was bludgeoned to death with an axe handle on the banks of Peckerwood Creek by two homophobic assailants on February 19, 1999. His body was burned like trash on a pile of tire carcasses. Both of his murderers remain in prison serving out their sentences. The Gaither murder, one of the most heinous anti-gay hate crimes in Alabama history, made news throughout the United States. Though Mr. Gary could not be present for the presentation because of a bout of ill health, his remarks were conveyed to the crowd. They are published here, in full: “I was very humbled when hearing of the honor given me by this group today and deeply regret not being able to attend. My life has changed and been dramatically enriched through my association of many, both here and absent, who have worked tirelessly for decades to ensure people who have fallen to hate did not die in vain. There are times when tragedy opens doors of association that we would have never known before. My friendship with Kathy Gaither is golden to me, as was my friendship with Ken Baker and the numbers of like-minded people he introduced me to. From Ken, Marshall Johnson and the Rev. Tim Holder, I learned the need of quick response and coordinated action. A more recent association is with the Rev. Dr. Stephen Sprinkle, associate professor of practical theology at Brite Divinity School, Fort Worth, Texas who has been researching LGBT hate crimes. Dr. Sprinkle visited Alabama to prepare his anthology of stories for his upcoming book, Unfinished Lives: Reviving the Memory of LGBT Hate Crimes Murder Victims. From him, I learned the importance of never, never, never allowing the stories to disappear. These horrific stories are very important and must not be forgotten. There are so many others we can discuss, but the important thing to remember, in my opinion, is threefold: The work we do here is important, sacred and necessary. It is important because we should never ever allow the stories and memories of those who are victims to be forgotten. It is sacred, because of how we reverently assemble to not allow them to be forgotten. Unfortunately, our work remains necessary because we all know that any morning we may awake to the news of yet another person how has fallen to hate. Extremism still exists and we can not stop our work as long as its ugliness lives among us. I invite all here to find the place to put your talents to work in the advocacy necessary to prevent yet another Billy Jack Gaither, whose name this award carries, along with the memory of many others, both with us and deceased.” Upon hearing the news of Mr. Gary’s selection for the Billy Jack Gaither Award, Dr. Stephen Sprinkle, Director of the Unfinished Lives Project, said, “The reason Billy Jack’s important story has not been forgotten is due in large measure to the tenacious advocacy of a small group of dedicated humanitarians and human rights activists in Birmingham, Tuscaloosa, and Montgomery. David Gary is a key figure in this group: strong, trusted throughout the state of Alabama, and dedicated to ushering in a better world for LGBT people and everyone else. No one is more deserving of this honor than Mr. Gary.” The sponsors of the vigil in Montgomery were Alabama NOW, Color It Pride, Equality Alabama, Immanuel Presbyterian Church (Montgomery), New Hope Metropolitan Community Church, PFLAG (Parents, Friends, and Families of Lesbians and Gays) Montgomery, and the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Montgomery. Keynote speaker for the event was Dr. Gwynedd A. Thomas, the first openly intersexed or transgender faculty member at Auburn University.








Summer 2009 – Dr. Sprinkle responded to the Fort Worth Police Department and Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission Raid on the Rainbow Lounge, Fort Worth’s newest gay bar, on June 28, 2009, the exact 40th Anniversary of the Stonewall Rebellion. Dr. Sprinkle was invited to speak at three protest events sponsored by Queer LiberAction of Dallas. Here, he is keynoting the Rainbow Lounge Protest at the Tarrant County Courthouse on July 12, 2009. 


Indiana Teenager Bullied To Death
Billy Lucas, Bullied to Death in Indiana
Greensburg, Indiana – Fifteen-year-old Billy Lucas, pushed beyond the limit by bullies at Greensburg High School, committed suicide on September 9. His mother found his lifeless body hanging in the family barn. Waves of regret are sweeping over the Indiana town, too little and too late for Billy, but, pray God, not too late for many other youth who are targeted by bullies because they are believed to be lesbian or gay. Fox News 59 reports that Billy was harassed for being gay since the day he entered the troubled school. Dillen Swango told reporters that Billy was singled out for being gay, harassed mercilessly with taunts like, “You are a piece of dirt,” and “You don’t deserve to live.” Student Bobby Quinlan said, “He got a chair pulled out from him and was told to go hang himself.” The Greensburg school has a troubled past when it comes to bullying. An anonymous graduate of Greensburg High, interviewed on Fox 59, said that he had been similarly hounded for being gay when he was Billy’s age, and reported the harassment to school officials, who did nothing with the information. The former student is now 21, and counts himself lucky to have lived. School Principal, Phillip Chapple, claimed not to know about the way Billy was targeted by bullies, but acknowledged to reporters that it was well-known that bullying was going on in the school. Local people and concerned citizens across the nation are outraged that school officials tolerated bullying in the school. Calls are being made by lawmakers to toughen Indiana’s anti-bullying law for schools. Yet there are not plans to charge anyone for the anguish and harm done to Billy at Greensburg. As is common in these instances, blame is shifted, apologies are muttered, flowers are sent to a grave, and, because this was a suicide, little change follows except the inestimable loss to family and friends of a fine young man who students say was dogged by harassment since he was in the fourth grade. As quoted by Towelroad.com, Charles Robbins, Executive Director of the Trevor Project, the nation’s largest anti-teen suicide advocacy group, released this statement following Billy Lucas’s death: “We are saddened to once again hear of another young person who died of suicide as a result of school bullying. Billy Lucas, a 15-year-old at Greensburg High School stood out among the 630 students in the school because he was different. Other students perceived that Billy was gay and he was relentlessly tormented as a result.While the school district does have anti-harassment and anti-bullying policies, the policies do not specifically protect youth from harassment due to real or perceived sexual orientation, gender, gender identity or expression. Only eleven states in the country offer fully inclusive anti-harassment and anti-bullying education policies, and Indiana is not among them.” The Trevor Project offers a resource page listing warning signs of possible teen suicide, which may be accessed here. Students have opened a memorial page on Facebook, and readers are encouraged to visit the site. Most of all, school officials must be compelled to institute a ZERO TOLERANCE policy for harassing behavior in their schools, and law makers in Indiana and around the nation must enact comprehensive, tough laws criminalizing bullying behaviors and school official negligence when they suspect bullying is taking place, but tacitly agree with the bad behavior by doing nothing to prevent it. Billy Lucas’s death may have been his own act, but the bullies and impotent school officials who created the toxic environment for this needless suicide are clearly to blame. What Billy Lucas suffered was an anti_LGBT hate crime, plain and simple. The LGBTQ community and its allies must find the outrage within, strong enough to press for safe schools for everyone until change comes about in Greensburg and around the nation. (The Unfinished Lives Team thanks Richard W. Fitch for contributing to this post).
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September 15, 2010 Posted by unfinishedlives | Anglo Americans, Anti-LGBT hate crime, Blame the victim, Bullying in schools, gay teens, harassment, Hate Crimes, hate crimes prevention, hate speech, Heterosexism and homophobia, Indiana, Legislation, LGBT teen suicide prevention, LGBTQ suicide, Mistaken as LGBT, Perpetrators of Hate Crime, Remembrances, Slurs and epithets, Social Justice Advocacy, Special Comments, Trevor Project | Anglo Americans, Anti-LGBT hate crime, Blame the victim, Bullying in schools, gay teens, harassment, Heterosexism and homophobia, Indiana, LGBTQ teen suicide, LGBTQ teen suicide prevention, Remembrances, Social Justice Advocacy, Trevor Project | 13 Comments