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Chapter 1 | Stonewall Uprising | American Experience | PBS

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All these sources connect back to my original research topic which is "What historical, political and social events have normalized and encouraged violence against the LGBTQ community in the U.S.?" because each of them gives an example of each of those events in some point of history. However, I would like to find more sources on gay panic and violence post the AIDS/HIV epidemic. I plan on using a timeline that is something like; during criminalization, post criminalization, during and post AIDS/HIV and then go into the lasting effects of these events in our current day. I don't want to sound redundant or unorganized, so I believe following this sort of timeline will help with that. I also want to organize it based on propaganda, government and politics, media, and criminal justice. So far I do have a lot of sources to cover each element. I'm starting to feel more confident in my research as I've found more relevant sources to use in my paper. I'm starting to visualize a format for it.

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From The Great Believers, I will be using the two situations in which characters in the story were assaulted. There is a moment in the story in which Charlie explains that anti-gay attacks were up a "threefold" compared to its normal rates. I will be referencing this moment and how the AIDS/HIV epidemic intensified the violence that gays experienced. This moment also ties into the stigma that our government and propaganda placed on gays and how it contributed to raising levels of homophia in our country.

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Stonewall Forever - A Documentary about the Past, Present and Future of Pride

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Stonewall Forever - A Documentary about the Past, Present and Future of Pride

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This is a primary source as it provides different interviews from people who lived through the gay rights' movement. Within my research I think it will be important to mention how levels of discrimination and acts of violence ultimately led to movement. These people discuss the oppression they had to endure from society and from the government. It shows the sacrifices people had to make for their liberation. I like that is also brings up issues of intersectionality within the gay community like transgender rights and gays of color.

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Stonewall Forever - A Documentary about the Past, Present and Future of Pride

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This article is an excerpt from the newspaper the San Francisco Foghorn that dates back to 1996. This piece serves as a primary source because it offers testimonials of gay people who have experienced forms of anti-gay violence and acts of bigotry first-hand. The testimonials are from students of University of San Francisco at the time. What I found interesting was that even in the late 90s that such petty and bigoted crimes were being committed against gays. What I found most appalling was how it was normal for professors of the university to slander gays so publicly in lecture. This is a piece of information I'd find most useful in regard to answering my research question because it shows how anti-gay behaviors and speech were so normalized at a time that even leaders in our institutions felt comfortable spewing their hate publicly. This is a societal factor that has contributed the normalization of violence against gays.

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The Silence Is Killing Us: Hate Crimes, Criminal Justice, and the Gay Rights Movement in Texas,1990–1995

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The Silence Is Killing Us: Hate Crimes, Criminal Justice, and the Gay Rights Movement in Texas,1990–1995

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This article is a secondary source and so far is my favorite source that I've found so far. The author very descriptively gets into the history of how hate crimes became normalized in the country and how the justice system responded to these crimes. One key element to my research is proving that the gay panic defense normalized, justified and served as an easy get out of jail free card for homophobic people in the country who decided to kill gays based on their biases. He provides history of how specific cases contributed to the creation of the legal gay panic defense and sheds light on how homophobic a lot our policy-makers and judges were. He also gives very descriptive overviews of violent crimes and I think I could use these examples to describe the extent in which people went to harm gays, and how the criminal justice system indirectly influenced it. I want my audience to really understand how vile and disgusting some of these crimes were, so they can understand how evil and twisted it is for our institutions, media and politics to influence such behavior.

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This is a secondary source and it celebrates the ending of the gay-panic legal defense but it first goes into depth of the history of how it was created. This article isn't necessarily the strongest in regard to proving my research question. However, if at some point I need to reference gay panic or give a definition of it this would be a good source to use.

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In 1944, in New York, a decade before Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and William S. Burroughs would publish their countercultural works, there was a killer in their midst. Lucien Carr was a brilliant Columbia University student from a prominent Midwestern family. He had introduced the three men to one another and was at the center of the circle of friends that defined what was later known as the Beat Generation. The nineteen-year-old Carr stabbed another member of the group, David Kammerer, in Riverside Park, with a Boy Scout knife, and dumped his body in the Hudson River. Carr claimed that Kammerer, his former scoutmaster, who was thirty-three, had followed him for years, from city to city, and made "indecent" advances. The New York press, defending Carr, portrayed the killing as an "honor slaying." Although he was charged with murder, prosecutors allowed Carr to plead guilty to the lesser crime of manslaughter. He served two years in a reformatory and then lived out his life as a respected news-agency editor.

The case was one of the first high-profile instances of a " gay panic" defense, in which a person claims that his violent act was a sudden emotional response to an unwanted advance from a person of the same sex. If believed, a defendant's crime may be reduced, from murder to manslaughter, or from attempted murder to assault. A defendant might even raise it as a full-fledged defense to try to avoid liability altogether, but judges and juries have been much less amenable to it in recent years. Since the nineteen-sixties, the gay-panic defense has been used in half the states, but in relatively few reported cases, numbering in the dozens.

The case that brought the defense renewed attention was the killing, in 1998, of Matthew Shepard, a gay student at the University of Wyoming, who was robbed, beaten, and set on fire by two men. At one of the defendants' murder trials, the defense provided evidence-later admitted to be false-that Shepard had been sexually aggressive. The defendant claimed that his own childhood history of being sexually bullied by another boy caused him to lose control of himself after Shepard's alleged unwanted advance. (Later reporting suggested that the accused had had a prior sexual relationship with Shepard.) The jury ultimately convicted the defendant of felony murder, which was less serious than the first-degree-murder conviction sought by the prosecution, but more serious than manslaughter, which had been sought by the defense. He was sentenced to two life sentences in prison.

In June, the New York State Assembly joined six other state legislatures that have passed bills banning gay-panic and trans-panic defenses. The New York bill provides that a "non-violent sexual advance" or "the discovery of a person's sexual orientation or gender identity" cannot serve as the "reasonable explanation or excuse" needed to reduce charges from murder to manslaughter. (Another half-dozen states have introduced similar bills.) Also in June, Senator Edward Markey and Representative Joe Kennedy, both of Massachusetts, introduced federal bills to ban gay- and trans-panic defenses for federal crimes. These moves arise from recognition of the high rates of homicide and other violence perpetrated against L.G.B.T.Q. people, and concern that defenses implicitly blame gay and trans people for violence against them or imply that their lives are worth less than others. What the bills leave in place, however, is a defendant's ability to claim that his own past trauma can explain the extreme reaction to a victim's conduct.

The gay-panic defense grows out of the traditional legal doctrine known as "provocation," which dates to sixteenth-century England and remains in use in American courts. The doctrine allows a defendant to claim that another person's inflammatory conduct caused a sudden departure from rational judgment, and so an act of killing by that person was done in the "heat of passion." The traditional paradigm for the defense was a man killing his wife's paramour upon unexpectedly discovering them in flagrante delicto-a reaction that was then considered reasonable. In addition to a spouse's adultery, classic provocations included combat, a serious assault, an illegal arrest, or the injury or abuse of a close relative. For centuries, courts limited provocation to these specific categories and inquired whether the situation was sufficiently provoking to cause a blood-boiling homicidal response in a reasonable person. But its use inevitably implied that the victim-provocateur was at least partially to blame. The notion of a "true man" lashing out at another male who purportedly offended his masculinity with sexual overtures fit the male honor norms that informed criminal regulation of violence in the nineteenth century. But the homosexual-panic defense did not formally appear in legal opinions until the nineteen-sixties.

In the middle of the twentieth century, progressive criminal-law thinkers called for the expansion of the provocation concept to accommodate defendants whose situations didn't fit the narrow categories that courts had developed. Their intent was to make the criminal code more forgiving of human fallibility. Following the standard proposed by the American Law Institute's influential Model Penal Code of 1962, New York liberalized its provocation doctrine, in 1967, to allow reduction of murder charges to manslaughter when a defendant killed while "under the influence of extreme mental or emotional disturbance for which there is reasonable explanation or excuse." This shifted the focus toward a defendant's troubled internal emotional state, rather than demanding that the external circumstances display certain established types of facts. By 1976, New York's highest court noted that advances in psychology had made the public willing to reduce responsibility for "those whose capacity has been diminished by mental trauma." What could explain a defendant's "extreme emotional disturbance" and excuse the violence was a trauma that developed "for a substantial period of time, simmering in the unknowing subconscious and then inexplicably coming to the fore." If a defendant's trauma was the key to his defense, his own past was prologue.

Current efforts to ban gay- and trans-panic defenses are uncontroversial in jurisdictions that embrace gay and transgender rights. But doing so may have unintended legal implications. Women who have killed abusive men have sometimes claimed that their charges should be reduced, even when they were not fighting off imminent death or serious injury, which would be valid self-defense. For decades, courts have allowed battered women to argue that their homicidal response was reasonably induced by a male victim's past abusive conduct. In fact, according to the legal scholar Aya Gruber, women have been more successful than men in using the provocation defense. This is likely because female defendants have more readily proved that they suffered prior trauma. That raises the question of what should be the range of a woman's reasonable response to a man's unwelcome sexual advances. If she panics and kills in a social context that makes women's fear of male sexual violence widespread and ordinary, should her response be considered reasonable and her responsibility mitigated?

The new bills bar both women and men from making a "gender panic" defense. They refuse to excuse, for example, a woman who kills a person who is sexually aggressive but not violent. But they would allow a woman to claim that a reasonable explanation for her homicidal reaction to a nonviolent sexual advance was the trauma caused by a past sexual assault. That defense would be possible regardless of the deceased person's sexual orientation or gender identity.

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In 1944, in New York, a decade before Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and William S. Burroughs would publish their countercultural works, there was a killer in their midst. Lucien Carr was a brilliant Columbia University student from a prominent Midwestern family.

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This article is a secondary source that I found interesting because it brings up issues of intersectionality of race, sexuality and class. It focuses on the gentrification of historically gay neighborhood and how it leads to heavier police surveillance; which ultimately, effects gay POC the most. It acknowledges the gay POC experience and compares it the white queer experience. It also overviews history of police brutality of against the LGBTQ and how anti-gay behavior was exhibited in our politics. This article will be useful in giving example of institutionalized forms of homophobia in our U.S. government throughout time and how it encourages violence against gays.

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BY Dan Royles ON December 2, 2014

Like many Americans, I was sickened-but not shocked-by a Missouri grand jury's failure to indict police officer Darren Wilson for the August 9th murder of Mike Brown. The miscarriage of justice in Ferguson triggered over 130 protests in 37 states the day after the grand jury's announcement.

One of those cities was Philadelphia, where hundreds of protestors gathered at City Hall the evening of November 25th before marching up to Temple University at the intersection of Broad Street and Cecil B. Moore (formerly Columbia) Avenue. This was a significant destination, since the neighborhood was the site of a three-day riot just over fifty years ago, in August 1964. Then, anger over racist policing, economic inequality, and the slow pace of political change boiled over into a mass rebellion that ended in hundreds of arrests, two deaths, and millions of dollars in property damage.

Half a century later, much has changed, although the issues in Philadelphia remain largely the same. Last week, marchers carried signs decrying police violence against communities of color, of which Mike Brown's murder is just one example. Using a portable loudspeaker, one mother described the pain of burying her son, a victim of police violence. Others connected the event to a broader set of local tensions. As the crowd milled beneath Morgan Hall, the 27-story dormitory opened a year ago by Temple University, march leaders railed against gentrification in the neighborhood. In recent years, Temple has worked to shed its commuter-school image with new construction and an increased police presence aimed at reassuring white suburban students (and their parents) that the campus is safe. At the same time, longtime residents of the predominantly black North Philadelphia neighborhood (like other citizens in New Brunswick, New York City and other communities slowly giving way to university expansion) feel squeezed out by the Temple's expanding footprint and the rising rents that come along with it.

As in other cities, queer activists like myself joined the demonstration. Philadelphia has a long history of radical queer politics, including organizing by queer people of color, and a large contingent of queer folks a march that snaked its way for almost four miles down Broad Street, from Center City to North Philadelphia and back, chanting, "No justice, no peace, no racist police!" and, "Shut it down!"

But these historic, intersecting community commitments are not always reflected, or even acknowledged, in queer media. When I returned home from the march and browsed through my blog feed, I found a torrent of posts from prominent gay blogs like Towleroad and Joe. My. God. focused on federal rulings against same-sex marriage bans in Arkansas and Mississippi. No doubt these decisions, along with the tidal wave of gay marriage legalization over the past year, represent a measure of progress. But the jubilant posts about Arkansas and Mississippi contrasted sharply with the anger and urgency of the march, captured in the widespread protest hashtag #blacklivesmatter. (To their credit, Joe. My. God. also covered the press conference and events unfolding in Ferguson; Towleroad, much less.) The degree to which gay marriage has moved into the political mainstream just over the past few years has been truly striking. Many, including John d'Emilio writing for this blog, have questioned whether this assimilationist agenda has supplanted the more radical challenges to American seen in gay liberation and ACT UP.

Like the community surrounding Temple University, gay politics has been gentrified. In urban neighborhoods undergoing redevelopment, white gay men and lesbians are often gentrifiers, being courted by developers for because we boost property values. But the costs and benefits of gentrification are not shared equally among queer people. According to Christina Hanhardt, LGBT calls for protection from street violence have historically resulted in increasing privatization and police surveillance of gay urban space, so-called "safety measures" that occur at the expense of poor and minority queer people.

As historically gay neighborhoods, such as New York's Christopher Street or Philadelphia's Gayborhood, become increasingly gentrified, they become whiter, richer and even straighter. They also become the sites of increased police violence. The increased police presence means that transgender women and queer youth, and particularly people of color in both groups, find themselves increasingly targeted for police harassment and arrest. Transgender people, and transgender people of color in particular, face vastly disproportionate rates of police violence. A 2012 report by the National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs found that transgender people of color were almost two and a half times as likely to face police violence as white non-transgender people, even when they themselves were reporting violence. Transgender women also report being targeted by law enforcement, who use condom possession as evidence them on prostitution charges. Furthermore, queer youth make up 40% of the nation's homeless youth, which in turn leads many to incarceration.

Along with the gentrification of gay urban spaces, mainstream gay politics has experienced what scholar-activist Sarah Schulman calls "gentrification of the mind"-a collective forgetting of the hard-won, sometimes radical, struggle for rights and recognition pursued by earlier generations of queers. White, affluent gay men and lesbians have attained increased respectability and cultural capital, and may very well see the issues of police brutality and judicial prejudice coming to the fore in Ferguson as disconnected from their own lives.

But it was not so long ago that gay people of all colors were targeted by police, who set up stings in popular cruising spots and raided gay bars and private parties, notably during the "lavender scare" that gripped Washington, DC during the 1950s and 1960s. It was the violent, rebellious response to such policing at New York's Stonewall Inn, led by queers of color, that marked a turning point in the modern gay rights movement. And when San Francisco supervisor Dan White was convicted of manslaughter rather than murder in the killing of gay politician Harvey Milk in 1978, the city's Castro District erupted in rebellion. In the face of such a gross miscarriage of justice, white gay rioters clashed with local police and causing hundreds of thousands of dollars in property damage. After the riots, the group Lesbians Against Police Violence created a poster featuring an illustration of a burning police car with "NO APOLOGIES!" in bold text. One imagines that today Castro residents might tweet pictures of the smoke and destruction, tagged #gaylivesmatter.

Even more recently, during the first decade of the AIDS crisis, gay lives of all colors were still viewed as expendable. In the early 1980s, Ronald Reagan's press secretary Larry Speakes and the White House press corps openly laughed about the growing AIDS epidemic. Reagan himself famously did not publicly comment on AIDS until 1987. By the end of that year, over forty thousand Americans had died of the disease. It took sustained direct action from AIDS activists, particularly ACT UP, to bring drug costs down and speed up the approvals process for new medications. ACT UP protests were non-violent by design, but they were not peaceful-instead, they were disruptive and angry. At times, the group's unruly civil disobedience brought police repression, as when local police beat members of the Philadelphia chapter during a 1991 protest outside the Bellevue Hotel in Center City. But it was actions such as these that remade HIV into a chronic, manageable condition in the middle 1990s with the advent of protease inhibitors.

This rage is absent from contemporary gay politics, even as HIV and AIDS also continue to affect gay and bisexual men more than any other group. As with policing, here too people of color bear the brunt of the burden, despite roughly even rates of safer sex practices across racial lines. Black gay and bisexual men account for about one in four new HIV infections. According to the Black AIDS Institute's 2012 report, "Back of the Line," by age twenty-five a black gay man has a 25% chance of contracting HIV; by the time he reaches forty, that number goes up to 60%. But again, the policing that makes affluent gay neighborhoods "safe" targets young queers of color and considers the tools of HIV prevention-condoms-to be evidence of illegal activity.

It may be easy for LGBT people-particularly those who are white and affluent-to see themselves as removed from the events in Ferguson, or the larger issues of police violence and mass incarceration that have brought thousands out in protest since the grand jury's decision. This distancing ignores the complicity of mainstream LGBT politics in these social ills, as claims on gay respectability have been premised on the marginalization of the poor, minorities, and trans people. Moreover, it erases our own history of being policed and offered up as expendable, along with our rebellious responses to injustice. As we accede to this amnesia as the price of mainstream acceptance, we not only forget our past-we become agents of oppression in the present.

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BY Dan Royles ON December 2, 2014 Like many Americans, I was sickened-but not shocked-by a Missouri grand jury's failure to indict police officer Darren Wilson for the August 9th murder of Mike Brown. The miscarriage of justice in Ferguson triggered over 130 protests in 37 states the day after the grand jury's announcement.

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GAY PANIC, GAY VICTIMS, AND THE CASE FOR GAY SHIELD LAWS

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GAY PANIC, GAY VICTIMS, AND THE CASE FOR GAY SHIELD LAWS