LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
Student CAMP |
by Kristen Minor |
Five Years a Martyr
I was sixteen years old when Matthew Shepard was murdered. His death has become one of those "where were you when" moments in the queer community. I was at home watching television. I could tell from my mother's face that she was superimposing my head over Matt's; his death only confirmed her notion that my activism was going to get me killed. The gay youth email list I managed was in shambles; the out kids were, like me, trying to downplay the fears of their parents while freaking out themselves. The closeted kids, meanwhile, were horrified at the pervasive, "well, the faggot deserved it" mentality that was being tossed their way by people who had no idea that they were gay, which was arguably worse than that same comment given to those of us who were out. I spent the night crying that people who didn't know me wanted me dead, that there was a nebulous group out there who thought that girls who liked girls deserved torture and death. I think that for a lot of us who were teenagers at the time, Matt's death was a wake-up call. At my high school I was regularly harassed, slammed against lockers, and threatened with all kinds of violence, but as scared as I was at times the thought of getting killed didn't enter my mind at all, nor did it generally enter the minds of my friends in similar situations. All of the sudden every newscast carried a reminder that we too could have our brains on pavement. What was even more surreal was the attention paid to this skinny blonde kid from Wyoming. Out of all the antigay murders every year, his was the one that caught everyone's eye. The things that his murder inspired were incredible, ranging from The Laramie Project, one of the best pieces of theater in recent years, to a memorial scholarship (which I was awarded as a high school senior), to countless books, songs, television specials, and hate crime legislation that occasionally actually passed. He never asked to be a martyr, but his name is often the only one out of the thousands killed by homophobia that is remembered. Every year on the anniversary of his death I have acquired a habit of reflecting on major events of the gay community in the past year. It's as good a time as any and I often find a great deal of hope in tracking our progress. This year was terribly bitter, and this is for two reasons. The first is that Fred Phelps, everyone's favorite hate-slinging "servant of God," the man who thinks that the central tenant of Christianity is "God Hates Fags," wishes to erect a memorial commemorating "Matt's entry into Hell" at the place where he was found tied to a fence. The horrified town of Casper has no legal reason to deny them this ability, as they currently have a Ten Commandments memorial in the park. The town's options are to remove the Ten Commandments, an act which they are reticent to do, or to allow the memorial. I find the legality of having a copy of the Commandments in a public park somewhat dubious to begin with and think that their best option would be to remove them immediately. Matt's "memorial" will surely be torn down almost immediately after it is erected if the town allows it, yes, but that's not really the point, now is it? I also find it appropriate that my other favorite homophobe, GW Bush, decided that the anniversary of Matt's death (as well as the day after National Coming Out Day) would be the perfect time to announce "I Spit On All Homosexuals Week." I'm sorry, I mean "Marriage Protection Week." Nice sense of timing, Mr. Presidentfor your next trick, how about posthumously pardoning James Earl Ray on Martin Luther King Jr. Day? Or are we supposed to find this timing coincidental? The whole business makes me sick, outraged, and even more ashamed of the current administrationdidn't think that was possible. Yes, marriage can use all of the help it can get these days. But defending marriage in this way seems a bit like pointing at a condemned house and celebrating that it hasn't burned to the ground. You do not elevate marriage by undercutting everything that isn't marriage. Nor should anyone believe that our administration thinks that "we must continue our work to create a compassionate, welcoming society, where all people are treated with dignity and respect" without mentally adding the addendum "because homosexuals aren't people and must be stopped at any cost! It's disgusting, and I plan on celebrating this week by being as queer as possible. Us damn homos and our wanting civil rights, go figure. As I don't want this to turn into a thirty page rant, let me just say that I am furious over this turn of events and you should be as well, gentle reader. So it's been five years. I'm sure this doesn't surprise you, Matt, but there's still some work to be done around here. Kristen Minor, a member of the class of 2004 at Dartmouth College, is experiencing her last New England fall for the forseeable future. She can be reached at kristen@youth-guard.org. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 13, No. 14 October 17, 2003 |