There are five states in the U. S. without a hate-crime law.
One of them is Wyoming.
Wyoming, where 10 years ago, Matthew Shepard was robbed, pistol-whipped, tortured, tied to a fence and left to die.
Wyoming.
Though it’s not like the other 45 states with hate-crime laws are perfect. Only 32 of them cover sexual orientation. Only 11 cover gender identity.
Last month, the House passed a hate-crimes bill by a wide margin — a bill that would protect gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgenders in all states, including ones like Wyoming that have no hate-crime bills of their own. But the Senate is more complicated. Currently, the sponsors of the bill are searching for an innocuous bill, sure to pass, to attach it to, because it is not strong enough to survive on its own. Hopefully, the president’s support — he said it would “enhance civil-rights protections, while also protecting our freedom of speech and association” — will help facilitate this process.
But I’m not holding my breath.
Earlier this month, at a discussion hosted by a media company’s LGBT employee group, Matthew’s mother Judy Shepard expressed dismay and frustration that 10 years after her son’s death, little progress had been made.
“I never thought I’d still be doing this 10 years later,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.
But she said that even if we get this bill, it is not enough. Prosecution is one piece of the puzzle, she said — but we also need to focus on prevention.
Prevention of violence means education. It means school anti-bullying laws. It means explaining to kids that saying “that’s so gay” is not a neutral term but a loaded one, inspiring anxiety in gay and lesbian classmates. It means trying to eliminate the culture of hate where it grows — in families, in churches, in schools.
It is exactly this education piece that our opponents are worried about.
Antigay legislators — people like Rep. Virginia Foxx, who called Matthew Shepard’s death a “hoax” in front of his mother, before apologizing — are worried that we will educate people into understanding that gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people are perfectly normal. They worry that their children and grandchildren will grow up in a world where no one shudders at the sight of two men holding hands, or two women pledging commitment to each other in white gowns.
They worry that it will be so normal, that perhaps one of their daughters will kiss another girl and think nothing of it; perhaps one of their sons will fall in love with another man.
They worry that their values will no longer be the country’s values.
And they are right to worry, of course. The acceptance of gay rights is generational. The younger you are, the more likely you are to be growing up with the idea that gay is A-OK.
Even so, we are far from a world — or a country — that practices non-violence toward our community. In the past month, four different people were attacked in Manhattan, in what seem to be antigay crimes. Attacked in Chelsea, the center of the gay community, in one of the most liberal cities in the world.
We are not yet safe, no matter where we live.
Sharon Staple, executive director of New York’s Gay & Lesbian Anti-Violence Project, said we will know we have our full civil rights when we can walk down any street in this country, in any city, holding our partner’s hand and not being afraid.
In New York or in Wyoming, that day still seems very far away.
Jennifer Vanasco is an award-winning syndicated columnist. E-mail her at [email protected].