On 27 August 2013, my partner
Derek and I went to see Lee Daniels' The
Butler at our local cinema four blocks from our home in
Manhattan---aka "NYC's world renowned gay neighborhood of
Chelsea"---where we often see films.
Although this time it was a much
different experience.
It was the first time that we went
since two men who were holding hands as they left the same cinema were attacked
a block away from it while going home from a movie less than two weeks prior on 14 August. Both mens' injuries required hospital treatment.
http://www.nydailynews.com/news/crime/cops-search-group-assaulted-gay-men-article-1.1427235
Before we left for the movie I was
watching the local news. It was reported that a transgender woman, who
was beaten into a coma by a friend, allegedly moments after he learned his
friend was born a man, in a possible hate crime. The transgender woman
had since died and the news was reporting whether the man would be charged with
murder.
http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/uptown/transgender-harlem-woman-dies-days-assaulted-hate-crime-attack-article-1.1435038
I was shocked to hear but
unfortunately it has become common in NYC news, especially this year, of such
crimes. The number of crimes against the gay, lesbian, transgender, and
bisexual community--from slurs to felony assaults--in NYC is nearly double what it was in 2012.
Both these crimes followed many
other attacks throughout the year. Some of which--to name a few--include:
-A couple
attacked on 25 May by a group of men yelling gay slurs before one was punched
in the face.
-The murder of a 32-year-old man with a single round shot to the
head by a homophobic gunman in Greenwich Village on 18 May.
-An attack on a
couple walking arm-in-arm near Madison Square Garden on 5 May, leaving one with
a broken nose.
http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/gay-bashing-attacks-rise-city-article-1.1430370
As we began the short walk that
night, Derek, who was not home when I saw the news report, naturally grabbed my
hand as we normally do whenever we leave our home together. The report
reminded me of the attack on the 14th and combined with the fact that we were going to
the same cinema it instantly became more real the moment our hands connected.
A feeling of uneasiness and
anxiety filled me. Although I did not want to bring it up to Derek and
cause the same feelings in him. But after a few blocks, I felt I wanted
him to be aware. I was also unsure whether I even wanted to continue holding
hands.
"Do you realize this is the
first time we're going to the same cinema that the
couple who were attacked a few weeks ago came from while also holding
hands?" I asked him.
"No," he said.
"I had not thought about it. We don't have to hold hands if
you don't want to," he continued as he let go of my hand.
The fear in me made me pause for a
moment before I pushed through it and grabbed his hand again.
Then the memory of walking down
the street with Derek while holding hands in Encinitas, California in 2010
entered my mind.
"You better get the fuck out of here faggots before I fucking
kill you!" a girl in her twenties shouted to us as she passed us on the street.
It was absolutely shocking to the
core, enraging me at the same time. I had
experienced other slurs before but nothing that matched the intensity of
feeling in her voice.
"Fuck
you!" I yelled back at her.
After the incident
and recalling the pure hatred and violence in her voice I learned that it
is best not to respond with rage in return. One just never knows what
people may follow through with. Unfortunately, that is a reality of the
world we live in.
That experience gave pause and thought to where we hold hands, but never in our neighborhood, until that night.
"That's not what I meant by
mentioning it," I said. "I just can't believe it's 2013 in New York City and we are now forced to
think about and question our safety in our own neighborhood. To be more
cautious and aware. We are not free to just be."
"It's shocking and unsettling
to me," I continued, "It's just not right."
We remained silent for the two
blocks that we had left to the theatre. I grew more anxious with the thoughts that two people, because of who they were, lost their lives so close in proximity to where we were
walking.
I just wanted to get into the
theatre and sit down.
Then thoughts that somebody may
have seen us and followed us into the movie to attack entered my
mind.
'This is crazy!' I thought. Now, the terror virus was
spreading in my thoughts and waging war.
'Enough!' I said to myself and took back control of my mind
as we entered the theatre.
As the movie about the Civil
Rights movement of African-Americans played out before our eyes on the screen I
couldn't help but make comparisons and feel an empathetic bond to what the LBGTQ
community is experiencing today.
There is a scene where a group of
African-Americans choose to take a stance of love and not responding to any violence--mental, emotional or physical--as
they sit in the 'white' section of a diner.
Through yelling, spitting and
having scolding coffee thrown in their face, and being thrown to the ground,
the group of African-Americans stand silently united in strength while attempting to prevent the hate from penetrating their spirits.
It is a hard scene to watch and my
eyes teared up both for what was happening on the screen and has been happening
just outside the doors of the theatre.
But in the end you see the
triumphs the African-American community makes slowly throughout the decades.
It was empowering to watch.
When the movie ended
and we walked to the back exit, right before I pushed the door open, without
hesitation, I grabbed Derek's hand, held on tightly this time without fear.
When we arrived at the corner of
our street, Derek let go and said he was going to Duane Reade to get some water
and that he would be home soon.
I said, "Okay" then
continued walking on home all the while the battle of terror waged in my mind.
'Is he safe? Yes, he'll be all right. Maybe I should go with
him. No, it's fine. But what if somebody saw us holding hands and
now he's alone? Shit. What do I do?'
These thoughts, these feelings.
It's just not right!
Back and forth, my mind tugged with the war of terror as I entered our home.
Even though I was safely inside I still felt
uneasy until Derek walked through the door.
"Jeez, now you've got me
questioning my safety walking down the street," he said to me once home.
"That's exactly what I mean," I
responded, "This just is not
right!"
**Since the publication of this blog another hate crime occurred leaving another dead.
