shepard

I’ve become news-averse over the past few years, but I recognize that ignorance isn’t doing me any good. So, I still follow a few feeds and try to sort out the value from the crap.

One item that I saved related to Virginia Foxx – a representative from North Carolina. In addition to wanting to dismantle the Department of Education, she’s also infamous for her statement about Matthew Shepard – calling the crime:

“a hoax that continues to be used as an excuse for passing hate crimes bills.”

politico |  Wikipedia  | Washington Post

More recently was a statement by writer Chadwick Moore who claimed it wasn’t a hate crime – instead, a drug deal gone bad:  joe.my.god

This appears to be based on much debunked book about Matt Shepard from 2013: Wikipedia

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In 1998, a 21 year old man named Matthew Shepard was kidnapped, robbed, beaten, and tied to a fence post on a cold October night and left to die. He never regained consciousness and passed away 6 days later. During the trial, it was determined that his attackers had pretended to be gay in order to lure him from the bar so they could rob him. When he responded, they panicked and attacked him.

The incident and trial made national headlines for shedding a light on crimes against members of the LGBT community and for those that proclaimed his attackers as “heroes” and “justified in their actions”. There was a made-for-tv movie, documentaries, and books as people tried to make sense of what happened. And, eventually, a law was passed that made this kind of attack a “hate-crime”.

In 1998, I was 25. A late bloomer, as it were, who was still wrestling with his sexuality and trying desperately to figure who he was. When I heard about this, I empathized with Matthew deeply. “That could have been me” echoed over and over in my head – and I was afraid.

Afraid of saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. Afraid of letting anyone know who I really was – and what I really was.

Afraid that someone would beat me to death because I was gay.

It would be years later before I got the courage to date, even circumspectly. And longer still before I would let my friends know. And even longer before I was ready to come out to my family.

I was ruled by that fear and spent a spectacular amount of energy in double-checking everything I said or did to everyone I knew or ever met. My backup plans had backup plans and I was always aware of where I was – and the nearest exit. Like Matthew, I have a slim build and knew that I couldn’t defeat those presumed attackers, but I was always ready to run.

Slowly, cautiously, and oh so carefully, I started to work past my fears. I felt safe with my friends and began to let people past those carefully constructed walls. After a not-great coming out to my family I’m in a much better place with them now. Some of my co-workers know and have been nothing but supportive. I’ve had several relationships and I’m in a great one now with a great guy.

And when Jim and I are out somewhere and I introduce him, I refer to him more and more as my “partner” instead of the safer “friend”.

But, we don’t hold hands in public.

That fear still lingers because every day a gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender person is mocked, attacked, beaten, or killed just because of who they are.

And so, to further some deeply twisted personal agendas, people like Foxx and Moore call into question what happened Matthew to diminish the impact. To blame the victim.

When I first read the article about Virginia Foxx I went into a murderous rage. I wanted to find her and I wanted to destroy her. No matter the cost.

“How dare she?” I thought, “How dare she mock what happened?”

Because it wasn’t just about Matthew – it was about me too. And about every single LGBT person that knew fear because of what happened. Everyone that lived a life being afraid of being themselves.

Needless to say, I didn’t make a road trip to NC. Instead, I’m trying to be a little more brave each day. Being a little more open and a little more out. It isn’t easy – my inclination is still to hide and look for those exists.

But I’m trying, a little all the time, to not be afraid anymore. And I’m still here.