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When news first broke about the murder of Trayvon Martin by George Zimmerman, some lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) organizations spoke out about the injustice. Some even signed onto calls demanding that Zimmerman be tried for the murder. Now, after the not-guilty verdict, which has freed Zimmerman of any responsibility and thus punishment for taking Martin’s life, even more LGBT organizations have voiced their outrage. Indeed, advocating for justice is the right thing to do.
Trayvon’s Murder As An LGBT Issue
But, is this really something that we should expect of organizations that advocate for equality on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity and expression? Or, as the Queerty article asked of its readers, “Should the LGBT community care about the George Zimmerman trial verdict?“
When I first saw the headline, I thought the answer was obvious — yes! And, other LGBT media were focusing on the organizations that were demanding justice; so, it seemed the question did not even need to be posed. I skimmed the article and then the comments to see if the obvious “yes” and the reasons for it were articulated by others. Fortunately, most of the readers at least said yes, though largely because they could empathize with the injustice in this case as LGBT people.
Admittedly, I was underwhelmed by this response. It felt as though LGBT people — at least the few people answering Queerty’s inquiry — cared about the unjust murder of Trayvon Martin to the extent that they were able to envision fearing such violence because of their sexual orientation or gender identity/expression. I had hoped to see some recognition that this racial injustice affects the lives of LGBT people of color — that that was enough for the entire LGBT community to be concerned that some of its members’ rights have been threatened.
However, I read an op-ed in The Advocate this morning, which help me understand this sort of empathy (which I would better understand outside of this very divisive case). Michelle Garcia, the magazine’s commentary editor, wrote a piece that connects the so-called gay panic defense to the not-guilty verdict Zimmerman received. In the former, there have been cases of anti-LGBT murders wherein the heterosexual murderer argues that he (typically) was momentarily insane because of a sexual advance made by the gay or transgender victim. In a way, they feared for their safety (in line with the stereotype of gay rapists), and thus defended themselves. Zimmerman’s defense for pursuing and killing Martin was that he feared for his and others’ safety. Because the stereotype of young Black men as violent criminals exists, eliciting real fear in whites, it seemed to be enough to justify taking Martin’s life, and letting Zimmerman (and his racial biases) walk free.
I find this take (and this one) convincing. The very laws (i.e., Stand Your Ground) that let white murderers of innocent Black people walk free could let heterosexual or cisgender murderers of innocent lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender walk free. In fact, prior to such broad self-defense laws, and without drawing directly upon them now that they exist, there are several of such murderers who do walk free because of the “gay panic” or “trans panic” defense. Courts and juries have sympathized with privileged people who momentarily felt unsafe (often because they stereotyped an LGBT person as a sexual predator), while offering no justice for their victims — people who live in daily fear of anti-LGBT discrimination and violence their entire lives.
A(nother) Call For Coalition-Building
As such, the unjust murder of Trayvon Martin is an LGBT issue… is a feminist issue… is a human rights issue. In the past few weeks, LGBT people have celebrated major advancements toward sexual and gender equality. In that same time frame, the hard-fought rights of people of color and women have been attacked and, in some cases, successfully eliminated. These setbacks hurt lesbian, bisexual, and transwomen, and LGBT people of color. Thus, they are setbacks for all LGBT people, and all people of color, and all women. And, pessimistically speaking, they are a signal to the LGBT movement that bigots never retire, even as discrimination and violence are outlawed. The very rights we finally secure today may be undermined in a few decades.
This is yet another reminder that single-issue politics are less effective, at least in the long-run. We cannot afford to have white feminists focusing exclusively on the slow reversal of Roe v. Wade, while white gay men continue to blindly celebrate marriage equality, while heterosexual, cisgender people of color exclusively mourn the recent string of racial injustices (Voting Rights Act, Affirmative Action, Baby Veronica, Zimmerman’s acquittal, etc.). That is, while women of color, LBT and queer women, and LGBT people of color are exhausted by trying to keep up with all of these issues, and trying to explain to others how they are fundamentally linked. Simply put, we are overdue for successful coalition-building. For, “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere” (Dr. King).
On February 26th, 2012, around 7pm, Trayvon Martin, a 17-year-old Black man, was shot and killed by George Zimmerman, the white captain of the neighborhood watch where Martin’s father lived. Martin was unarmed, carrying only the bag of Skittles and an iced tea that he purchased when he briefly left his father’s house. Zimmerman, suspicious of Martin’s presence in the gated Sanford, Florida neighborhood, called 911 about Martin. He was told by the 911 operator not to interact with Martin in any way.
Zimmerman followed him anyway, getting into an altercation with Martin when he questioned why Zimmerman was following him in his SUV truck. By the end of the incident, Martin was face-down in the grass, dead, just 70 feet from his father’s house. Zimmerman currently walks a free man proclaiming the incident to be self-defense, thus justifying the murder — an excuse that, at least on the surface, is legal under Florida self-defense laws. However, many are calling for Zimmerman’s arrest for the murder, pointing to the role of racist stereotypes that can play out under these expansive self-defense laws.
Given Martin’s undeniable innocence in this tragic incident, the only thing he seemed guilty of was being a young black man. As Dr. Rashawn Ray, a University of Maryland sociology professor, has pointed out, this incident, and many others like it, are evidence that black men are too often, and almost automatically presumed to be criminals. He notes, drawing on sociological research on race, crime, and punishment:
[S]ociological research continues to show that blacks and Latinos are more likely to be disciplined in school and stopped by the police. While some may anecdotally argue that black kids are badder than white kids, studies show a more pressing problem — teachers and police officers monitor, profile and police black and Latino youth and neighborhoods more than white ones.
The arrest of Harvard University professor, Dr. Henry Louis Gates, in 2009 for trying to enter his own house gives us evidence that any Black man, no matter how wealthy, educated, or even respected in white America, may fall prey to being treated as a common thug or criminal. In 2010, I was witness to a similar incident, when a fellow member of the Diversity Fellows Program at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, Dr. Calvin Warren, was hassled by UW-M campus police because he was thought to fit the description of a young black man who police were looking for. (It goes without surprise that the two look nothing alike, the police never apologized for harassing him, and an internal investigation of the incident dismissed Dr. Warren’s behavior as uncooperative and hostile while the police were just doing their job.)
Additional research by sociologists like Dr. Devah Pager points to other consequences, besides the potential for violence, unfair arrest, and harassment by police, of these racist stereotypes. In her work, she examines differential treatment in hiring practices by race and criminal record. In one study using audit methodology, “The Mark of a Criminal Record,” Dr. Pager found that men who were Black, and men with a criminal record, were less likely to receive callbacks for jobs than men who were white, and men without criminal records, respectively. However, the most shocking finding was that these race and criminal record differences interacted, wherein white men with criminal records were still more likely than Black men without criminal records to receive job call backs. Black men with criminal records were the least likely to be called back, and white men without criminal records were the most likely to be called back. You can see the graph below:
So, in the event that there is any question as to why it matters that racist stereotypes still exist, the unjustified murder of Trayvon Martin, the racial discrimination in hiring, among other outcomes that constrain the livelihood, success, health, and well-being of Black people is your answer. People’s beliefs, including prejudice, shape their behaviors. This might even explain the consistent hostility toward President Barack Obama — criticism that has, at times, seemed greater than is warranted for his (perceived) failings.
The Other Consequence For Blacks: Hypervigilance
How do Black people navigate the stereotypes in everyday life they face — those assumptions that may lead to limited opportunities for work, unfair arrest or hostile treatment by the police, violence, unfair treatment in public service, and so forth? These stereotypes range from the view of young Black men as criminals, young Black women as sexually promiscuous (“jezebels“), older Black women as comforting “mammies,” and so forth. Dr. Ray, likely expressing the concern of many Black people, spoke frankly about these concerns for his children on The Young Turks.
For some Black folks, hypervigilance is the product of living with such (racist) realities. One must constantly be alert and self-aware, ensuring that one is safe and avoiding fulfilling whites’ stereotypes about Black people. Watch how you speak, dress this way, avoid these areas at these times, sit like this, etc. Setting aside the debates between assimilating to white norms and challenging them momentarily, these are real matters to consider given the concerns for one’s safety and well-being.
In this era of modern racism, where racial prejudice is covert, even unconscious and implicit, it can feel like one is walking on a field covered with landmines of little (or big) racially-tinged events. Unfortunately, the hurt of these events, ranging from microaggressions (e.g., “you’re not like other Black people!”) to racist violence is compounded by the denial that racism continues to be a problem today. This makes for conditions similar to schizophrenia, I would argue; you do not know who might harm or offend you in terms of race and, once hurt, you might be told you are being hypersensitive or playing the “race card.”
How does one’s prejudice, even if implicit, translate into the death of an innocent, unarmed 17-year-old Black man? Without attempting to assess the racial attitudes of Zimmerman, especially given his history of criminal behavior, we can at least talk about how racist attitudes are allowed to become racist behaviors. Today, with civil rights and non-discrimination laws, discrimination in employment, housing, public accommodations, health care, and so forth, is illegal; hate crime laws sometimes tack on harsher sentences in the case of bias-motivated violence and property damage. Of course, more minor, everyday forms of discrimination are not illegal, for they are not seen as damaging to marginalized groups’ well-being, despite evidence that suggests otherwise when these events accumulate.
There are some laws and policies that are blatant in their intent to discriminate against people of color, for example, the new law in Arizona that allows the racial profiling of Latina/o people or those perceived to be Latina/o in an effort to crack down on illegal immigration. Other laws, like the self-defense law in Florida, may not explicitly implicate race, but can be exercised in ways that facilitates racial discrimination and racist violence. A post at Feministe does a great job of explicating this point:
A “reasonableness” standard is important in evaluating a self-defense argument. The key, though, is reasonable to whom? In many jurisdictions, deadly force is only justified if a reasonable person in the same circumstances would believe it was necessary to prevent death or great bodily harm. What’s interesting — and troubling — about the Florida statute is that it doesn’t include any duty to retreat (instead allowing force to be met with force), and it doesn’t require that a “reasonable person” would find the circumstances potentially life-threatening. It requires that the individual who used deadly forced “reasonably believed” that the use of force was necessary. It’s a small distinction, but an important one (and it’s Bernie Goetz all over again). A “reasonable person” would not think that a young black man walking down the street was a threat to his life. But an individual with a particular set of experiences and views might be able to convince a jury that he reasonably believed that. In a racist society, you can find a racist person who “reasonably believes” that the existence of a black kid is dangerous, and that a confrontation with a black kid — even if the white adult started it — is life-threatening.
One point that has come up time and again in my dissertation research (on the health consequences of discrimination) is that when laws and policies are less standardized and rigid, there is more room for people in power (e.g., managers, supervisors) to use their own discretion. This may mean that their biases may sneak in. For example, in an audit study comparing hiring practices of gay male compared to heterosexual male potential employees, sociologist Dr. Andras Tilcsik found preference given to heterosexual men because they are assumed to be more decisive, aggressive, and ambitious than gay men. However, when policies and laws are more standardized, leaving little room for personal discretion, there tend to be fewer reports and complaints of discrimination.
Things We Can Do
Unfortunately, Trayvon Martin is dead. So, what can we do now?
- You may consider signing the Change.org petition to arrest and try George Zimmerman for murdering Trayvon Martin.
- As Dr. Ray points out, we could work within ourselves to challenge our stereotypes and assumptions:
Socially, when individuals meet a “good” black man, they can be seen as the rule and not the exception. Most black men are not criminals or untrustworthy; they are law-abiding citizens. People need to start recognizing social class cues that signal professionalism and decency instead of ubiquitously categorizing black men as dangerous. It is high time that individuals see not just a black man, but a man who could be a doctor, lawyer, neighbor or even the president. These changes in individuals’ perceptions will a go long way to solve the criminalization of nonwhite bodies.
- Also, we can challenge others’ assumptions and stereotypes.
- We can assess whether the expansion of self-defense laws may lead to greater protection or greater harm. In particular, we should ask whether these laws open the door for greater violence against marginalized groups.
- We should ensure that the media paints a holistic picture of Black people in America, rather than promoting the usual stereotypes of Blacks as criminals, stupid, lazy, or, on the “positive” side, only good at entertaining.
- Rather than remaining complacent, we can continue to advance discrimination and hate crime laws to protect marginalized groups from differential treatment, especially in this era of covert prejudice.
- We must begin to talk more frankly about race, rather than skirting these conversations in this so-called post-racial era. President Barack Obama’s presidency should be seen as re-sparking the conversation on race and racism, rather than ending it.
I wrote this rant before, but I erased it.
I wrote this rant before, but I erased it because I worried what others would think.
I wrote this rant before, but I erased it because I worried others would think I am militant.
I wrote this rant before, but I erased it because I worried I was militant.
The exact words escape my memory, but it went a little something like this.
I know two words, six letters long each, that shape my experience as a human. They are both old words, with long histories of linguistic, social, and political transformations. One is the perverse derivative of a color that now implies the oppressive superiority of one group over another. One is the perverse transformation of a neutral, inert object that was used to eliminate people now dehumanized and disempowered by the word. One has been reclaimed by some of the very people oppressed by the word and what it represents, but too many are repulsed by the word to successfully reclaim it. Instead, most refer to the word only by its first letter – N. The other word has not been met with systematic efforts to reclaim it. Yet, ironically, the word seems to repulse fewer; as such, referring to it by its first letter – F – world confuse most as another word we regularly censor.
Despite their differences, these two six-letter words share similarities, some odd. Similar in length, beginning and ending with consonants, home to two Gs in the middle, with vowels sandwiched in between. In use, the two are similar in their function of reminding me that I am subhuman, or maybe not human at all. At least, as a partial human, the word nigger reduces me to my skin color and, as such, that my status is inferior to those of white skin. The word faggot reduces me to a sexual act considered immoral, pathological, and revolting. Only six letters long, yet each conjures up a reminder of my place in society – always outside – even when included within.
The simultaneity of these experiences infuses their dehumanizing potential. Indeed, in society, this racist, sexist, classist, heterosexist society in which I live, places me at a subordinate status as a racial minority, as a sexual minority, and as a racial-sexual minority. This marginalization is compounded by the dual betrayals of the predominantly-heterosexual Black community and the predominantly-white gay community. In the former, I am just as likely to be reminded of my subordinate status as a faggot as I am in white-dominated society. I am likely told my efforts to fight homophobia are distracting. In the latter, my racial identity is erased and any attempts to attend to anti-racist projects seen as irrelevant. Unfortunately, both communities have fallen prey to white heterosexist efforts to “divide and conquer,” and too rarely able to forge lasting coalitions. Both, too often, forget that individuals cannot be reduced to a single status: fighting racism, yet putting up with sexism; fighting homophobia while ignoring the whiteness and middle-classness of gay movements. Invisible in Black spaces as a faggot, invisible in gay spaces as a nigger, and invisible as both in society.
But, for as much invisibility is regarded to these statuses is the granting of hypervisibility. Due to the presumption of whiteness and heterosexuality, one always stands out as something other – the Other. I know the ironic reality of invisibility as a Black person, yet the hypervisibility as a black man approaching someone on the street at night. I know the invisibility as a queer person, yet the hypervisibility as a gay man in sex-segregated spaces and situations. It is quite odd that one is simultaneously invisible and powerless, yet hypervisible and threatening.
I use these stereotyped threatening images to my advantage. Or, I at least attempt to do so in desperate attempts to protect myself. When I feel the sense of danger arising in white people as I approach, I trade off my Blackness for my gayness in an effort to seem harmless. Who’s ever heard of a gay thug anyhow? Flipped, in scenarios where I feel unsafe as a queer person, I emphasize my Blackness to appear threatening. To what extent this is simply hypervigilance every minority faces, I am unaware. To what extent these trading-off efforts work, I cannot assess.
The possibility of trading off race for sexual identity and vice versa is made through their intersections with gender. An emphasized Blackness to appear threatening presumes a tough, masculine demeanor, one that implies heterosexuality. An emphasized gayness to appear non-threatening implies a meek, feminine demeanor, one that is at odds with the stereotypical image of Black men. When laid out this way, their opposing nature becomes apparent. One cannot be both the stereotypical Black man and the stereotypical gay man. The former implies the opposite of the latter, and vice versa.
What, then, is the category of Black queer? How does one inhabit these two identity spaces defined as opposites of one another? One’s mere existence resists narrowly defined racial and sexual categories. But, many face what feels like pressure to choose: choose your status, your identity, and your allegiance. Are you Black or are you gay?
I reject this notion of opposition between Blackness and gayness just as I reject the labels nigger and faggot. I am not defined by the histories of oppression, enslavement, and discrimination faced by Black people. I am not defined by the history of oppression, exclusion, and collective closetedness faced by gay people. These histories shape who I am and my consciousness, but I cannot be reduced to either.
This time, I will keep this rant.
This time, I will keep this rant to share with others.
This time, I will keep this rant to share with myself.
This time, I will keep this rant to accept my militance.