Over a week ago, I posted about the story of Lucas Dawson, the Philadelphia black gay man who defended himself with a knife against seven gay bashers, stabbing one of them who later died of his wounds. The story appears to be spreading. There’s an interview with Dawson available online. Keith has a post up which includes information that Dawson faces possible rearrest if new evidence is uncovered in the case, and also makes an observation about the response to Dawson’s story in gay communities across the country.
Dawson’s case has already sparked a public discussion about hate crimes, self-defense and vigilantism, and it’s even re-ignited the age-old debate between masculine and effeminate men in the LGBT community. For example, a reader on PlanetOut posted the following comment after watching the interview with Dawson: “You know what? Without femmy guys — I’m talkin’ the real big queens, we’d be nowhere. Queens came out of the closet first (a lot of them had no choice!) Queens fought for our rights.”
Whatever the outcome, Dawson’s case is a powerful reminder that lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered people won’t always allow themselves to be victims of hate violence. For better or worse, some of us are standing up and fighting back.
Dawson’s mother, who seems to be very supportive of him, has said she doesn’t want her son to be made into a hero.
Lawson said she doesn’t want her son idealized or made into a hero.
“I just view Lucas as a normal person who stood up for himself,” Lisa Dawson continued. “We have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to be embarrassed about. But I don’t want Lucas put up on a pedestal or made into a gay hero. I feel very sad that a loss of life has happened. It’s not the type of thing you want to glorify.”
I think I agree with Keith, it maybe too late for that. It may also be inevitable. Like I said before, there are times when fighting for your life — or even believing that your life is worth fighting for — literally or figuratively is a kind of heroism. Maybe the most basic kind kind of heroism.
Then there’s the more familiar flip-side of Dawson’s story, exemplified in that of Dwan Prince, a black gay man in New York who struggles to put his life back together after a gay bashing that left him near death. We’re more used to hearing stories like that of Dwan Prince, and perhaps we’re even more used to hearing stories like that of Sakia Gunn, an African American lesbian teen who was stabbed to death in a 2004 gay bashing in Newark, NJ. Maybe there’s a hunger for a story where someone facing anti-gay violence stands up and survives unscathed.
There’s one more thing that lingers with me about Dawson’s and Prince’s story, and that is the incredible support they seem to have from family — in particular their mothers, who have stood by their sons and publicly supported them. Maybe I’m generalizing, but I can’t help thinking that kind of support is probably rare for a lot of black GLBT’s. Prince’s mother makes a statement about support in the African American community that seems to suggest the same.
[Dwan's mother, Valerie Prinez,] also points to indifference, from politicians and from her own religion. As a member of Mount Olive Baptist Church, Prinez was dismayed when her minister refused her cries for help. The reason: He found out her son is gay, and wanted nothing more to do with her.
Local politicians were helpful when the case was in the news, but once it faded, their calls ceased.
“The people don’t want to hear about it,” Prinez said.
WIth black ministers like Willie Wilson, and the others that Keith Boykin and Jasmyn Cammick profiled a while ago, running around, it doesn’t surprise me that one would wash his hands of of the life of a Dwan Prince. It’s been happening on a daily basis, for a long, long time; whether it’s anti-gay violence or HIV/AIDS that threatens our lives, the response from much of the black clergy and the black church has been pretty much the same. Like Valerie Prinez said, they don’t want to hear about it.
I guess the degree sway the church and religion holds in many African American families and communities, along with the traditional condemnation of homosexuality that comes as part of that package, makes it even more amazing to me that Dawson and Prince have such support in their own families. And it’s amazing that it’s amazing, because that’s just what families are supposed do. It shouldn’t be any more newsworthy than a man defending his life against his attackers, but it is because in too many of our stories it’s still rare.
I think that’s what sticks with me about Dawson’s story, and about Dwan Prince’s story. They’re reminders of how rarely we hear our own stories of standing and survival, and even more rarely do we hear stories of our families and communities standing by us. Maybe they’re exceptions that prove the rule, but maybe they can also inspire hope that things are changing — in us, our families, and our communities — slowly but surely.
Technorati Tags: current events, family, gay rights, violence, race, religion
I have yet to see the data on it, but I think the Hip Hop generation of African Americans is much less religious/Christian than their Baby Boomer parents. They may be more religious than their White peers, but I’m convince a change has come or is coming. All of that said, it could cause a change in attitudes towards LGBT folks. Thinking about my students, the White ones definitely seem more "tolerant," but my Black students, especially Black women, are not as intolerant as many would think (Which is even more interesting because many of the women are also more religious).