Intervening in Hate Violence

Image credit: 5chw4r7z / Flickr

By Katherine Erickson

Legal professionals don’t often get the chance to be Batman,[1] but last month Ejeris Dixon led a workshop, Intervening in Hate Violence,[2] that sounded like it was going to tell us how.

Sponsored by NYU OUTLaw, the NYU LGBTQ Student Center, and the Office of Student Affairs, this workshop was a community reaction to the string of hate crimes against LGBT individuals last spring.[3] Together with Dixon, Deputy Director in charge of Community Organizing and Public Advocacy at The Anti-Violence Project, we explored strategies for how to effectively respond and intervene when one witnesses or experiences a hate crime.

I found the workshop incredibly useful and incredibly frustrating, at the same time.

Lesson One: You still don’t get to be Batman.

Despite the temptation to stand up straight and yell at people who are hassling your friends, allies can actually put LGBT people in more danger by physically or verbally expressing anger. Many of us in the public interest law community tend to enter these situations with a hero complex, and activists in the LGBT community have experimented with responding with force to hate violence by way of community safety patrols when police protection proved inadequate or counter-productive.[4]

However, as Dixon explained, on an individual level the ability to confront violence with violence is a hallmark of privilege. As a white cisgender[5] ally, I can get angry and yell with impunity when my trans Black friend is targeted on the subway. My friend is the one stuck taking that same subway every day and potentially running into the aggressor again, at a time when I’m not there to protect her.

Lesson Two: Aggressors are victims.

Did we mention intersectionality? The world has its fair share of privileged rich, cis, straight, white, male violent criminals, sure. But many of the perpetrators of LGBT violence are future clients of my public defender friends—indigent victims of violence themselves.[6]If nothing else, they were probably taught to be racist by their parents, which some now contend is form of child abuse. [7]

Lesson Three: Consider alternatives to prosecution.

As it turns out, prison is bad for people.[8] If you’re really dedicated to decreasing societal injustice, it’s good to at least consider how we can avoid contributing to the phenomenon of mass incarceration in our responses to violence.

Lesson Four: Progress is infuriatingly slow.

Some de-escalation methods taught in this workshop have been in use for decades.[9] Dixon quite properly included them as recommended techniques, but I found it infuriating that we’re using the same techniques to prevent the violent deaths of LGBT people that we were using thirty years ago. Nonviolence is all well and good, but it’s 44 years after the Stonewall Riots. Why are we still relying on members of the LGBT community to use nonviolent resistance, to whistle, to report to the police, or to provide other means of strategic community pressure? Shouldn’t we be at a point where prevention of hate crime is a mainstream activity? I found myself wondering, “Why is there still a need for a specialized training on this?”

I don’t want to live in a city where the law provides redress for my friends only after they’re dead. Or after they’ve been beaten. Or after they’ve suffered outrageous, ongoing verbal abuse. “He made me want to commit suicide” is not a cause of action—except if there is a special relationship between the parties, such as that of therapist and client.[10] At the same time, individual prosecution or civil litigation is not necessarily the best way to combat a transphobic and homophobic culture.

Lesson Five: The law has limits.

Many of us in the public interest law community would like to believe that societal problems have legal remedies, but the more I learn, the more I realize that you can’t end violence with litigation. However much I may believe in taking sides and making distinctions between the “good guys” and “bad guys,” at the end of the day we all just have to take care of each other because we have to live together.

I can sue perpetrators, but I can’t sue hatred.

Many advocates during the Civil Rights Movement used nonviolence tactically, despite being targets of horrific violence, because of what it did for the movement—they wanted to force racists to see Black people as human beings.[11]

The LGBT rights movement’s focus on marriage has similarly been strategic because of its communicative nature; it encourages public recognition of the dignity of all LGBT people, not only those who wish to participate in the institution of marriage.[12]

However frustrating it may be, we don’t get to play Batman outside of the courtroom—or, I would argue, within. I will advocate zealously for my clients, but the movement cannot only be about the victim because the division between perpetrator, victim and bystander is illusory in the long-term. We’re all victims of hatred, and violence, and injustice. The LGBT rights movement isn’t about fighting homophobes; it’s about fighting homophobia.

When I take a stand against racism, or homophobia, or when I yell at somebody who is dehumanizing my friend, I’m not solving the problem—I’m making myself feel better. At best, I’m drawing attention to a problem, but it can’t end there. It absolutely has to end with increased mutual understanding because that’s the only way violence actually ends, instead of being sublimated, or repressed, or pent up for another day.

And that’s what this workshop taught—Dixon taught us to slow down, use empathy, and speak slowly. Draw the aggressor in, allow the victim time to escape, and build understanding. I learned that in the short-term, like in the long-term, hate violence can be prevented when we see each other as human beings.

---

[1] If desired, please substitute your own superhero of choice. Suggestions include: Batwoman, Wiccan and Hulkling, the new Ms. Marvel, or the new Aqualad.

[2] What Would You Do?: Intervening in Hate Violence, N.Y.U. School of Law (Oct. 30, 2013), available at http://blogs.law.nyu.edu/docket/student-affairs/what-would-you-do-intervening-in-hate-violence/10319/.

[3] Tina Moore, Gay-bashing Attacks on the Rise in City, Could Double Last Year’s Total, N.Y. Daily News (Aug. 18, 2013), http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/gay-bashing-attacks-rise-city-article-1.1430370.

[4] Kirstin S. Dodge, “Bashing Back”: Gay and Lesbian Street Patrols and the Criminal Justice System, 11 Law & Ineq. 295, 296 (1993) (“Abandoned and even assaulted by those charged with protecting them, those in gay and lesbian communities have taken matters into their own hands; they have organized groups of citizens trained to patrol predominantly gay neighborhoods to deter assaults against members of the community and to directly intervene in bashings when they happen. This self-help effort has met with great criticism both from within and outside of the gay and lesbian community.”).

[5] Cisgender people are those whose assigned sex at birth reflects their actual sex.

[6] Annie Steinberg, Jane Brooks, & Tariq Remtulla, Youth Hate Crimes: Identification, Prevention and Intervention, 160 Am. J. Psych. 979 (2003), available at http://ajp.psychiatryonline.org/article.aspx?articleID=176221 (“Data on convicted hate crime perpetrators have revealed that many of the more serious forms of hate violence are committed by individuals with prior criminal histories, those who are economically marginalized, and those who have a propensity for substance abuse.”).

[7] See Brooke A. Emery, The Upbringing of a Creature: The Scope of a Parent’s Right to Teach Children to Hate, 4 Mod. Am. 60 (2008) (“Teaching racism to a child jeopardizes a child’s mental and physical health.”).

[8] E.g. Ernest Drucker, Population Impact of Mass Incarceration Under New York’s Rockefeller Drug Laws, 79 J. Urb. Health 5 (2002) (discussing the reduced life expectancies of prisoners in New York convicted of non-violent drug offenses); Alfonso A. Castillo, Guilty Plea in Gruesome Murder Deal Slammed, Newsday, Sep. 13, 2007, at A4 (noting that life expectancy of prison inmates is shorter than that of the civilian population “because of unhealthy living conditions and violence.”).

[9] Dodge, supra note 3, at 295, 320 (discussing New York’s Pink Panthers, who used whistle-blowing and radios to startle attackers and call the police).

[10] Richard Fossey & Perry A. Zirkel, Liability for Student Suicide in the Wake of Eisel, 10 Tex. Wesleyan L. Rev. 403, 406 (2004) (“At common law, an individual did not have a duty to prevent another from committing suicide. This view was an extension of the common-law view that one has no duty to rescue another from peril.”).

[11] See Nicholas J. Johnson, Firearms Policy and the Black Community: An Assessment of the Modern Orthodoxy, 45 Conn. L. Rev. 1491, 1496 (2013) (“Blacks in the leadership and at the grassroots, sustained and supported armed self-defense as a matter of policy by insisting upon a fundamental distinction between private self-defense against imminent threats and collective political violence that was considered damaging to group goals.”); Bruce Hartford, Two Kinds of Nonviolent Resistance, Civil Rights Movement Veterans (2004), available at http://www.crmvet.org/info/nv2.htm.

[12] Mathew S. Nosanchuk, Response: No Substitutions, Please, 100 Geo. L.J. 1989, 1994 (2012) (“[Marriage] represents an affirmative public sanction for gay and lesbian relationships, according them a societal legitimacy that could not otherwise be obtained. Finally, support for marriage equality provides straight allies for LGBT rights with a means to express support for LGBT rights that is familiar, resonates with their own experience, and can be described in a way that emphasizes common experience rather than difference.”).