{"id":36,"date":"2019-03-22T17:26:03","date_gmt":"2019-03-22T17:26:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lgbtqhistoriesofviolence.com\/?p=36"},"modified":"2019-03-22T17:26:03","modified_gmt":"2019-03-22T17:26:03","slug":"marching-and-mourning-together-uniting-in-the-face-of-violence","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lgbtq2shistoriesofviolence.buildingthearchives.ca\/index.php\/2019\/03\/22\/marching-and-mourning-together-uniting-in-the-face-of-violence\/","title":{"rendered":"Marching and Mourning Together: Matthew Shepard, Barretta Williams, and Uniting in the Face of Violence Against 2SLGBTQ+ People"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

On the evening of Friday October 8th, 1999, the Chicago Anti-Bashing Network (CABN) sponsored a march to commemorate ‘GLBT murder victims’ throughout the U.S., and specifically to mark the one-year anniversary of the brutal murder of Matthew Shepard<\/a>. Though it was not the only march honouring Matthew Shepard that week in Chicago (“Symbol of Violence”), it was significant in its explicit focus on violence against the broader 2SLGBTQ+ community, specifically violence against trans women (“Violence march Friday”).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Outlines<\/em><\/a> <\/em>— a prominent LGBT newspaper in Chicago in the late 1980s and through the 1990s — published the following article written by Tracy Baims<\/a>, the founder of Outlines<\/em>, about the march (article courtesy of the Arquives<\/a>):<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

Background<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

In July of 1999, Frank Rich of the New York Times<\/em> wrote that “the homophobic epidemic of ’98… has turned into the homophilic explosion of ’99.” He described a wave of gay politicians, along with other politicians, preaching inclusion and dwindling support for the (homophobic) religious right, as signalling a ‘decline in overt homophobia’ in American politics. But, that did not mean homophobia in politics ended in 1999 – notably, while “eschew[ing] bigotry,” prominent political candidates failed to directly address anti-gay violence and other civil rights issues (Rich). 2SLGBTQ+ news outlets, coalitions and groups, on the other hand, strongly argued for the need to address past and continued homophobic violence. What is interesting to note is that the surface-level ‘homophilic’ trend in US politics, and continued discussions of violence against 2SLGBTQ+ people in activist events such as the CABN march, were framed as responses to the same pivotal event: the famous murder of Matthew Shepard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Matthew Shepard: A Symbol of Homophobic Violence<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

On October 6th, 1998 near Laramie, WY, 21-year-old gay man Matthew Shepard was driven to a remote area, brutally beaten and left for dead tied to a fence; he died in hospital 6 days later<\/a>.
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There has been much mainstream media coverage of Matthew Shepard’s violent death (Dakine; Rich). His death quickly became a ‘symbol of (homophobic) violence.’ Though it was later contested whether Shepard’s murder was motivated by homophobia (see [here<\/a>] and [here<\/a>]), the anti-hate crime legislation and vigils named for him endure, both within 2SLGBTQ+ groups (“Symbol of Violence”; “Violence march Friday”) and externally; Rich’s article, for example, posits that Shepard’s murder made “the pathology of anti-gay violence … a mass-audience subject … much as AIDS became one in the aftermath of the death of Rock Hudson.” Shepard’s murder has also continued to be recognized as a significant event 20 years later (Dakine), and in all likelihood, will remain symbolic for years to come.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Barretta Williams: Naming Transphobic Violence<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

On July 27th, 1999 in Chicago, IL, 26-year-old trans woman Barretta Williams was shot to death in her apartment[efn_note]The number of times she was shot is unclear, with one source stating she was shot 14 times (Davis), another 16 times (Rabbee), and in another it is unclear (Hawkins).[\/efn_note] (Hawkins; Rabbee).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In stark contrast to Shepard, Barretta Williams and her death were not recognized by mainstream news media outlets. Outlines<\/em> mentioned Williams and the transphobic attack that led to her death on several occasions: an article on the CABN march highlights how little Williams’ death had been reported on (Thayer); an overview of LGBT news of 1999 mentions her death, the frequency of transphobic killings, and Lorraine Sade Baskerville carrying a sign commemorating her during the CABN march (“1999 … Looking Back”); and a report from 2001 presents Williams’ friend Pebbles’ recollection of the killing and the justice that was served (Hawkins). These mentions, while important, are all quite brief, lack the kind of detail given to reportings on Shepard, and also indicate that most of the attention given to Williams’ death was from local LGBT news outlets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The contrast between how Shepard and Williams’ deaths were taken up differently on a national<\/em> level is apparent in the National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs’s list of gay and transgender people (including Williams) killed in the year after Matthew Shepard’s death<\/a> (Rabbee)- Shepard’s death is a point of reference, while Williams’ death is a point among many, ‘post-Shepard.’<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Against All Forms of Hatred and Hate Violence”<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Yet, despite this disproportionate attention given to these two murders, both are taken up in the reporting on the CABN march. It is interesting to note that while the march took place on the one-year anniversary of Matthew Shepard\u2019s murder, two of the images included in the article relate to Barretta Williams. Perhaps this visual artefact points to how 2SLGBTQ+ solidarity has historically been built – through recognizing different forms of violence impacting the community, understanding how<\/em> and why <\/em>violence against particularly vulnerable groups within the larger community goes un<\/em>recognized, and speaking out against these multiple violences, together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Fig. 1. Lorrainne Sade Baskerville (left) shows a sign of Chicago murder victim, Barretta Williams, to Dorothy Hajdys (right).<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A Close(r) Look at <\/strong>Outlines<\/strong><\/em>‘ Visual Artefacts<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Baims’ Outlines <\/em>visual coverage of the CABN march (for the purpose of this blog post, we focus specifically on figure 1) paradoxically underscores a cross-solidarity between vulnerable groups, which has arguably been somewhat deficient within a twenty-first century context, and also raises questions about the limitations of this solidarity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the top-left image, Lorrainne Sade Baskerville, a Black trans woman activist (founder of transGENESIS<\/a>) shows a sign of Chicago murder victim, Barretta Williams, to Dorothy Hajdys, mother of Allen R. Schindler Jr<\/a>. As suggested by the image of the two women connecting over their personal and collective losses during the CABN rally through the sharing of a sign encoded with violent death (Rosenberg, “Meditations on turning towards violently dead”), they have translated their compassion and pain into action.<\/em> The women’s desire for action, as Susan Sontag suggests (in Regarding the Pain of Others<\/em>), has been spurred by their proximity to this violence (Baskerville is more vulnerable to violence because of her positionality<\/a>, while Hajdys has been unwittingly bound to this legacy as the result of her son’s murder). Further, the image of Baskerville and Hajdys signals movement<\/em> through its syntagmatic placement underneath the large, bolded title “March honors…,” and above and adjacent to images of other protesters. The visual composition of the article reveals that rather than being stagnated, mired in the past by the deep pain of losing their loved ones, the women are able to march onward<\/em>, emboldened by their collective experiences of loss. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

However, the productive potential of this solidarity, as implied by the image and description of Baskerville and Hajdys is somewhat hindered. For, as Sontag muses, the viewer who holds merely “imaginary proximity to the suffering inflicted on others that is granted by images” (102) might not be inured by this double removal from suffering (in viewing the image of an intimate interaction between those who were directly affected by the losses of Williams and Schindler, and not, for example, an image of brutalized bodies). In being far-removed from the sufferers of this violence, the privileged viewer (the white cis homonormative or heteronormative subject) might not reflect upon ways in which they might be an accomplice to, or even inadvertently perpetuate, transphobic and homophobic violence. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

That said, we are by no means proposing that viewing the image(s) of these crime(s) will somehow conjure greater cross-solidarity between all. These images of the repulsive, sights of “degradation and pain and mutilation” (Sontag 97) most often quell the appetite of the curious voyeur<\/em>, without challenging their indifference–“I suppose there is nothing that we <\/em>can do about it.” <\/em>With limits to each and every way we attempt to visually encapsulate the pain of others (those whose experiences we do not share), we must therefore ask ourselves how we might sustain the spark of action, whilst simultaneously acknowledging our potential complicity in sustaining the destitution of (unassimilable) others? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Segment: A Coming-Together <\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The Outlines<\/em>\u2019 segment describes a coming-together of community-based 2SLGBTQ+ organizations with state players to address the proliferation of violence against 2SLGBTQ+ communities in Illinois and the United States at large. The participants nonetheless had diverging agendas, from exposing the U.S. military\u2019s investment in anti-queer and trans violence, to putting pressure on the state of Illinois for the passage of a \u2018gay rights bill,’ to challenging how media and police report on anti-2SLGBTQ+ hate crimes. The segment places emphasis on two of the march\u2019s speakers: the trans activist Lorrainne Sade Baskerville, and Dorothy Hajdys, mother of a former U.S. Navy member who was murdered on account of his homosexuality. Reading these activists together, a trans woman of colour (Baskerville) and \u2018a mother from a white, working-class Republican town\u2019 (Hajdys), not only offers insight into the breadth of activists\u2019 stakes in 2SLGBTQ+ rights, but further underscores the necessity of cross-solidarity in exposing state investment in queer and trans necropolitics (according to Achille Mbembe, a politics in which some members of the population are marked for death). <\/p>\n\n\n\n

An Intersectional Entry Point<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Baskerville\u2019s own identity as a racialized trans woman offers a different entry point into trans resistance that is often whitewashed (Ware 172). Baskerville, the 1995 founder of transGENESIS, was a notable advocate for people of trans experience in Chicago throughout the nineties. transGENESIS was a safer space for trans youth and adults alike to discuss issues of gender identity and self empowerment. T-PASS (trans-People Advocating Safer Sex), a sub-group of the organization, centred harm reduction, working to educate and support trans sex workers and other trans women living with HIV and AIDS, whose precarious bodies might be otherwise deemed \u201cdegenerate and [thus] killable\u201d (Snorton and Haritaworn 67), or at the very least, disposable. In 1997, Baskerville was the recipient of the Greater Chicago Committee\u2019s first \u2018Georgia Black Award\u2019 for her dedication to trans rights. At the march, Baskerville focused on the media’s often harmful representations of trans deaths. The \u201ccomplex dimensions of identity,” inscribed on the bodies of many trans people, are often the subject of public erasure in order for the media to produce more \u2018ideal victims\u2019 (Lamble 27). Thus, layers of identity (such as race) are often collapsed to produce a homogenized violently dead trans subject (Lamble 28), who can then be \u2018clearly\u2019 claimed by one community or another. Baskerville, a trans woman of colour, at \u2018centre-stage\u2019 of the march, encourages an intersectional perspective on systemic violence against trans people, and opens up the event\u2019s political space, always at risk of being a white and patriarchal space, to those (racialized trans folx and particularly women) at the margin of the margins.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I’m too cute to be straight” <\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Hajdys, self-described as a \u2018mother-turned-activist,’ became a spokesperson for victims of gay-bashing, and lobbied for Illinois\u2019 gay-and-lesbian rights bill. The Outlines<\/em> segment notes that Hajdys\u2019s speech at the march was underpinned by \u2018a mother\u2019s pain\u2019 as she called attention to the U.S. Navy\u2019s efforts to cover-up her son\u2019s death. Her son, Allen Schindler, had been quite literally pulverized by two fellow U.S. Navy members on the Belleau Wood, a Navy assault ship, stationed near Japan. Schindler was murdered not too long after he had courageously announced over the Pacific Command: \u201cI\u2019m too cute to be straight,” in spite of his knowing that being \u2018out\u2019 might cost him his life. Hajdys, upon Schindler\u2019s death, not only had to come to terms with her own homophobia that had alienated her son when he was alive, but further, come to terms with her sense of betrayal at the U.S. Navy\u2019s role in her son\u2019s death. Schindler, described frequently by his mother as a good-looking blonde and blue-eyed young man who loved the Navy, was the quintessential American citizen\u2014white, attractive, young, and patriotic\u2014who \u201cshould” in these respects be \u201cdeserving\u201d of life within a necropolitical framework. By this logic, such a normative and \u201cmorally deserving\u201d subject’s death (Haritaworn et al 7), not only makes Schindler a grievable subject, a death worthy of mourning, but should further elicit outrage at his death from the dominant (white) public. Thus, for Hajdys to speak on behalf of her son, whose conforming body renders him a \u2018recognizable\u2019 life, alongside Baskerville\u2019s advocacy for the lives of trans women, (of colour, sex workers, etc.) whose \u2018unruly\u2019 bodies have been systemically \u201ctargetted for killing or left to die\u201d (Haritaworn et al 2), opens up space to challenge which bodies are deemed \u2018deserving\u2019 of life.
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Works Cited:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andone, Dakine. \u201cMatthew Shepard finally laid to rest 20 years after he was killed for being gay.\u201d CNN<\/em>, Time Warner Inc., 27 Oct. 2018, https:\/\/www.cnn.com\/2018\/10\/26\/us\/matthew-shepard-washington-service\/index.html<\/a>. Accessed 18 Mar. 2019.
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Baim, Tracy. “1999 \u2026 Looking Back.” Outlines: The Voice of the Gay and Lesbian Community<\/em>, vol. 13, no. 29, 1999, p. 16-17. Archives of Sexuality & Gender<\/em>, http:\/\/tinyurl.galegroup.com\/tinyurl\/9mqGG8<\/a>. Accessed 2 Apr. 2019. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Davis, Andrew. “Vigil Remembers Victims of Violence.” Windy City Times<\/em>, Windy City Media Group, 26 Oct. 2005, http:\/\/www.windycitymediagroup.com\/lgbt\/Vigil-Remembers-Victims-of-Violence\/9808.html<\/a>. Accessed 4 Apr. 2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Haritaworn, Jin, Adi Kuntsman, and Silvia Posocco. \u201cIntroduction.\u201d Queer Necropolitics<\/em>, edited by Jin Haritaworn, Adi Kuntsman, and Silvia Posocco. New York, 2014. pp. 1-29. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hawkins, Karen. “Shooting victim remembers.” Windy City Times<\/em>, Windy City Media Group, 2 May 2001, http:\/\/www.windycitymediagroup.com\/lgbt\/Shooting-victim-remembers\/33071.html<\/a>. Accessed 18 Mar. 2019.
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lamble, Sarah. “Retelling Racialized Violence, Remaking White innocence: the Politics of Interlocking Oppressions in Transgender Day of Remembrance”. Sexuality Research and Social Policy 5 (1)<\/em>. 2008. pp. 24-42. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

“March honours GLBT murder victims.” Outlines: The Voice of the Gay and Lesbian Community<\/em>, vol. 13, no. 19, 13 Oct. 1999, pp. 1, 9. Archives of Sexuality & Gender, http:\/\/tinyurl.galegroup.com\/tinyurl\/9W97g5<\/a>. Accessed 17 Mar. 2019. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rabbee, Nusrat. “Remember those murdered in the past year (fwd)”. Received by Mia H H Lam, 12 Oct. 1999. http:\/\/www.qrd.org\/qrd\/culture\/remember.those.murdered.in.the.past.year-10.12.99<\/a>.
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rich, Frank. \u201cSummer of Matthew Shepard.\u201d https:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/1999\/07\/03\/opinion\/journal-summer-of-matthew-shepard.html<\/a>
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rosenberg, Sharon. \u201cMeditations on Turning Towards Violently Dead.\u201d In Democracy in Crisis: Violence, Alterity, Community. Stella Gaon, Ed. Manchester: University of Manchester Press, 2009: 220-240.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sontag, Susan. Regarding the Pain of Others. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Snorton, C. Rileyand Jin Haritaworn. 2013. \u201cTrans Necropolitics: A Transnational Reflection on Violence, Death, and the Trans of Color Afterlife.\u201d The Transgender Studies Reader<\/em>, edited by Susan Stryker and Aren Z. Aizura. pp. 65\u20137. Routledge, 2013. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Symbol of Violence.” Outlines: The Voice of the Gay and Lesbian Community<\/em>, vol. 13, no. 18, 1999, p. 1. Archives of Sexuality & Gender, http:\/\/tinyurl.galegroup.com\/tinyurl\/9YJxx6<\/a>. Accessed 21 Mar. 2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thayer, Andy. “Letters.” Outlines: The Voice of the Gay and Lesbian Community<\/em>, vol. 13, no. 18, 1999, p. 6. Archives of Sexuality & Gender, http:\/\/tinyurl.galegroup.com\/tinyurl\/9mq3w1<\/a>. Accessed 2 Apr. 2019. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Violence march Friday.” Outlines: The Voice of the Gay and Lesbian Community, vol. 13, no. 18, 1999, p. 11. Archives of Sexuality & Gender, http:\/\/tinyurl.galegroup.com\/tinyurl\/9YJz92<\/a>. Accessed 21 Mar. 2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ware, Syrus Marcus. 7. \u201cAll Power to All People?Black LGBTTI2QQ Activism, Remembrance, and Archiving in Toronto.\u201d Transgender Studies Quarterly<\/em> 4.2. 2017. pp. 170-177. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Works Referenced:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Green, Jesse. “What the Navy Taught Allen Schindler’s Mother”. 12 September 1993. NY Times<\/em>, https:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/1993\/09\/12\/magazine\/what-the-navy-taught-allen-schindler-s-mother.html. Accessed 1 April 2019. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Lorrainne Sade Baskerville”. The Chicago LGBT Hall of Fame<\/em>, http:\/\/chicagolgbthalloffame.org\/baskerville-lorrainne\/. Accessed 1 April 2019. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Strum, Charles. “A Sailor’s Murder and a Mother’s Crusade”. 10 August 1997. NY Times<\/em>, https:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/1997\/08\/10\/tv\/a-sailor-s-murder-and-a-mother-s-crusade.html. Accessed 1 April 2019. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Violence Against the Transgender Community in 2019.” The Human Rights Campaign,<\/em>2019, https:\/\/www.hrc.org\/resources\/violence-against-the-transgender-community-in-2019. Accessed on 1 April 2019.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

On the evening of Friday October 8th, 1999, the Chicago Anti-Bashing Network (CABN) sponsored a march to commemorate ‘GLBT murder victims’ throughout the U.S., and specifically to mark the one-year anniversary of the brutal murder of Matthew Shepard. Though it was not the only march honouring Matthew Shepard that week in Chicago (“Symbol of Violence”), […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[2,5,8,9,10,20,21,22,25,26,27,29,39],"class_list":["post-36","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-2","tag-anti-bashing","tag-barretta-williams","tag-cabn","tag-chicago","tag-hate-crime","tag-hate-violence","tag-homophobia","tag-lgbt-history","tag-lgbtq2","tag-matthew-shepard","tag-outlines","tag-transphobia"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lgbtq2shistoriesofviolence.buildingthearchives.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lgbtq2shistoriesofviolence.buildingthearchives.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lgbtq2shistoriesofviolence.buildingthearchives.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lgbtq2shistoriesofviolence.buildingthearchives.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lgbtq2shistoriesofviolence.buildingthearchives.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=36"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lgbtq2shistoriesofviolence.buildingthearchives.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lgbtq2shistoriesofviolence.buildingthearchives.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=36"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lgbtq2shistoriesofviolence.buildingthearchives.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=36"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lgbtq2shistoriesofviolence.buildingthearchives.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=36"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}