As workdays go, it was pretty average, but it had an usual start. I received a phone call at 8 a.m., which is never good. It's usually someone wanting money or bad news. It was neither. What was it. Incredibly, the Volunteer Coordinator of an organization I had apporached about volunteering a month earlier. It was quite odd, actually. One reason she called was that I had put in a call to someone on the board to complain about the lack of quick response to an interested volunteer. I was also a bit surprised to hear her tell me that if it had not been for the reminder from my acquaintence, I would have "slipped through the cracks."
While I appreciate the idea that organizations, especially not-for-profit ones, are busy with many activities, it was always my "duty" to reach volunteers as soon as possible, when I was co-chair of the Center's Membership Committee, and Volunteer Coordinator for the Center's Dance Committee. To be told I would have "slipped through the cracks" was underwhelming, to say the least. This trend, to not respond to people offering their talent, time, and services, free of charge, is a bit disturbing, especially at a time of "crisis," if you will.
After work I was "stacking appointments." My friend Peter told me about a meeting at the Center tonight, held by the National Gay and Lesbian Journalists Association, concerning media coverage of bias crimes.
So, I had to, as Tony would say, "stack my appointments." I had an appointment to go to the Michael Callen-Audre Lorde Community Health Center tonight at 6, then the panel discussion at the Center at 7:30, and dinner with a friend--an activist--at 8:45. So, I stacked my appointments...
I had a long-standing appointment to meet with Wendy Stark, the volunteer coordinator at the Callen-Lorde Community Health Project. I did go in with a bit of a bone to pick about the length of time that had elapsed since I sent in my volunteer application form, back in late August. I was pleasantly surprised to find a well-informed explanation. It seems that a trend in organizations that were originally created by grassroots volunteerism is a move toward professionalism. So tasks once handled at the volunteer level are now staff positions. A major problem is sorting out what people are going to do.
To avoid Marcia Brady Syndrome, in which I overextend myself by joining every after-school activity the high school has to offer, I am pacing myself. After all, right now, I am volunteering every other Saturday at Out of the Closet, in a gay discussion group, looking into doing something big for National Coming Out Day 1999, taking care of two very demanding cats, not cleaning my apartment, working every weekday from 9-6 and beyond, and writing, writing, writing. I am a gay Jewish male Yvonne Goolagong. How do I do it? "Isn't easy!" as she would say in those Geritol commercials.
So, I told her that I would probably not be ready until January, which was fine. I was very impressed with their six-story facilty, of which I was given a guided tour. I also found two areas of volunteer work what will probably be very interesting. If and when I get involved there, you will be among the first to know.
Being a gay event, the event started late, since gay events operate on Gay Standard Time (GST). Further confused this week since the clocks were moved back from Gay Daylight Savings Time (GDST). Strangely enough, this phenomenon was not mentioned at all at the Royal Observatory's museum in Greenwich when I visited there with my cousins back in March. The Center is in a "temporary swing space," a term wholly adopted by just about everyone. No one likes to be anything less than euphmistic. The "storefront" room is not optimal, and would even appall former residents of East Germany. But, it was not too cold that evening and it worked out okay.
Held jointly by the National Gay and Lesbian Journalists Association and the National Association of Hispanic Journalists. The moderator mentioned that anti-gay crimes have now risen to take the number three spot for hate-motivated attack, just behind race and religion. Actual incidents are probably more numerous than what gets reported. Also, anti-gay murders are characterized by "overkill," for example, excessive numbers of stab wounds, etc., that make a mere "robbery" motive alone dubious.
Peg Rivera, sister-in-law of murder victim Julio Rivera, spoke first, giving details of her brother-in-law's murder and their pursuit of a hate-crimes investigation with the Queens District Attorney's office.
Hearing the retelling of the murder of Julio Rivera was awful. On 2 July 1990, after returning to Jackson Heights from his job as a bartender somewhere in Queens, Rivera was approached by a young man in a known cruising area--the school yard of PS 69 at night. Walking together, now away from the street, they were approached by two other young men. At first Rivera assumed they were going to attack the two of them, not realizing he'd been lured into this trap by the first man.
After hitting him over the head with the 40-ounce beer bottle, and subsequently hit him with a claw hammer and a pipe wrench, and finally stabbed with a knife.
Left for dead, Rivera was able to stumble onto the street, and, incredibly, into the arms of his friend and former lover, Alan Sacks. It was Sacks who got AVP involved and had it noted as an anti-gay bias attack.
"He was not important, but he was loved, and they would not let it rest," Rivera said. She said it took a lot of effort to find and convict Julio's killers. "It helps to know the murderers stood trial." He was beaten "like they wouldn't beat a dog."
I can only speak for myself, but the pain the Rivera family felt and obviously still feels is palpable.
Peg Rivera also spoke about how much time it took to pursue a bias motive, and how she often had trouble finding people to look after her young daughter. Her own community failed to support her. "The only community that would help Ted [her husband] was the gay community."
She also recognizes that the outpouring of support for her family, and for the family of Matthew Shepard, was unusual, and that many other victims' families are not as bolstered as theirs were.
Jason Marsden, an engery, environmental, and political reporter for the Star-Tribune of Casper, Wyoming, who was flown to New York courtesy of United Airlines, spoke next.
Jason Marsden was a friend of Matthew Shepard's, and his death made him come out in a very public way. With a column in his newspaper. While he had been out to most people in his private life, this death outed him entirely.
"Crimes like this define your life. Individual identity is lost to the victimization." Shepard was someone who focused on what he could do to change the lives of other people.
"When he met someone he gave them the benefit of the doubt, which probably came into play that night" he met his assailants.
He worried about famine, about the Taliban's treatment of women, and was vehemently opposed to injustice.
"He enjoyed the process of learning," Marsden said, and "wanted to know what was in your heart. It's a loving nature, a light inside. He had that as a person." These attributes had nothing to do with his upbringing, socioeconomic standing, or anything else, according to Marsden. It's just the way he was.
He also added Shepard would never want to a be a symbol of tragedy and that "he wanted his existence to be meaningful to others." The outpouring of affection was astounding. The Shepard family received more than 10,000 messages, as well as flowers, and donations. "The world's heart was torn by this event."
Marsden also went on to defend his state, saying that there is an explosion of interest at the [Wyoming] state level about all crimes that are violent, and that they are a peace-loving community.
Of the Wyoming media, he said that it was taken very seriously and that while Shepard lingered in the hospital, they stood behind him. And beyond. The green circle on yellow symbol adopted by the student of Wyoming appeared everywhere--"in windows, on cars, on government buildings, on bed sheets in house windows and in yards."
He also felt that the sentiment in Wyoming was more intense than in gay communities worldwide, because Wyoming's citizens don't want to think their state "is that kind of place."
He also believes that a local jury and judicial process will address these crimes appropriately.
Learning of Shepard's death, it was difficult to retain a professional composure, but he had so. "There wasn't a soul in that newsroom that didn't know we'd be the epicenter" of the event, on a global scale.
Of his own very public coming out, Marsden said that he "earned the respect of people with whom he'd worked and even disagreed with," and that it even startled some people.
Marsden encouraged people to stand up and be counted when the spotlight was upon them, and use the brief moment to send a positive message.
The language in the charge documents were dinted by homophobic content, and cast a shadow of doubt on Shepard as a person. He said that it got changed because people were vigilant.
What's next?
"Matthew Shepard has given us a reason to fight," Marsden said, but that he would not be interested in retribution. "Where do we go from here? Will it be a catalyst for change in this culture?"
"The people who traffic in hate will expect us to act with hate. Love between people is what the gay community is built upon. Loving your enemy goes against basic human nature. Love society and our country enough to stand up and identify yourselves against those who would strip us of our rights."
"Matthew would expect that."
I had to leave and meet my dinner companion, so I missed the next part of the public forum, but the moderator identified four areas of media coverage of hate crimes: 1) Local vigils and events, 2) the status of hate-crime legislation, 3) the anti-gay climate, and 4) talk-show type coverage in which gay leaders are pitched against radical religious right types, which often degenerates into instant debate.
I met my friend (unnamed because I didn't tell him I would be publicizing this) at 8:45 for dinner at Sapore (corner of Greenwich and Perry) and we had a delightful meal. He is involved in ACT-UP and has been since the death of his lover of 30 years in 1993. It has helped him deal with a lot of the anger he felt in the wake of his lover's death, and has transformed his life. If you ever call him the answering machine will likely be something like an exhortation to call local or national officials to distribute free needles to drug addicts, or a knock on his door will be altered by a sign with the latest demonstration or outrage.
Let's call him M. The dinner was a good way to get to know M better, as well as find out what makes activist organizations tick. He told me that people do get less activist when things seem better. And when you see that the AIDS death rate is down 50% in New York, well, people get more hopeful and fight less. Not that there's nothing to be upset about. The state is looking into notifying partners when people test positive, and soon anonymous testing might be turned into a mandatory "confidential" registry. A recent talk with a friend stricken with AIDS revealed that many benefits once offered by the city have dried up completely and are gone for good. No rent subsidy, for example. My friend is resourceful; but some people aren't. What about them?
M suggested that the economy also has something to do with it. A downturn might bring more activity back to activism. Because M is involved with ACT-UP, he is plugged in to lots of information. He gave me some ideas for finding information where I didn't know it existed.
The events of the recent weeks are definitely nudging me into a particular direction, the shape of which is assured but will my plans be fulfilled. We shall see. This is what we it the soap opera vein would call a cliffhanger ending.
Meanwhile, the cute but girl-crazy waiter at Sapore screwed up our order a bit, as he is obsessed with focusing on tables that are all-female. While I admire his verve, I don't like getting the Tricolore when we ordered Insalata di Spinachi and Insalata di Tonno. They have the best Italian food in New York. Now all they need is a boy-crazy waiter and I'll be all set. I go there at least twice a month; is that too much to ask?
Next entry... All Chickens' Eve