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| ARCHIVES: March, 2005 |
The Agenda:Testing the Premise: Are Gays a Threat to Our Children? What the "Dutch Study" Really Says About Gay Couples Federal Hate Crime Statistics: Why The Numbers Don't Add Up Favorites:
Photo Essays:The Anasazi Ruins of Chaco Canyon, New Mexico Now Showing / Reflection on Hayden, Arizona
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Justice For One
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| Race |
3,848 |
51% |
| Religion |
1,344 |
18% |
| Sexual Orientation |
1,239 |
17% |
| Ethnicity |
1,026 |
14% |
| Disability |
33 |
<1% |
TOTAL: |
7,490 |
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Keep in mind that each incident may include more than one crime. For example, an attack against two victims constitutes two crimes but may be counted as one incident. A rape and assault against one victim would count as two crimes against one victim, yet is counted as only one incident. There were a total of 8,715 individual hate crimes reported for 2003.
In this ranking, sexual orientation was the third largest category for reported hate crime incidents. But on closer look, it quickly becomes apparent that this report doesn't tell the full story.
When Congress directed the FBI to collect hate crime statistics in 1990, they neglected to make it compulsory for local law enforcement agencies to report hate crimes to the FBI. This means that local participation in the data collection and reporting is completely voluntary and uncompensated. Consequently, a number of jurisdictions did not file reports for all four quarters and data from Hawaii missing altogether. Furthermore, only 16.5% of those law enforcement agencies which did participate reported any hate crime activity.
To add further confusion to the mix, state laws are not consistent in hate crime categories and definitions. According to the Anti-Defamation League, only thirty states provide any sort of penalty (civil or criminal) for crimes based on sexual orientation. Furthermore, only fourteen states require the collection of hate crime statistics for sexual orientation. Interestingly, Maryland and Michigan require jurisdictions to collect hate crime statistics based on sexual orientation despite the fact that their state laws do not provide for penalties based on sexual orientation - a situation which mirrors federal law.
So it's fair to ask: does the absence of a requirement or penalty at the state level influence participating law enforcement agencies' reports to the FBI at the federal level? After all, if there are no additional civil or criminal penalties attached to a crime based on sexual orientation, where is the impetus to perform the extra detective work needed to determine whether a crime was a hate crime solely for the sake of compiling statistics for the FBI? And if state law does not require tracking of hate crimes based on sexual orientation, how much care is taken in keeping records for a voluntary federal program?
When I examined the FBI's 2003 statistics and excluded those states which 1) do not have any penalties for hate crimes based on sexual orientation and 2) do not require reporting statistics based on sexual orientation at the state level, the data for the twelve remaining states [1] look very different from the national aggregate.
| Race |
1,567 |
48% |
| Religion |
464 |
14% |
| Sexual Orientation |
688 |
21% |
| Ethnicity |
553 |
17% |
| Disability |
11 |
<1% |
TOTAL: |
3,283 |
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Compare this to the nineteen states [2] which neither 1) provide penalties for crimes based on sexual orientation nor 2) require their reporting at the state level:
| Race |
747 |
64% |
| Religion |
123 |
10% |
| Sexual Orientation |
145 |
12% |
| Ethnicity |
141 |
12% |
| Disability |
19 |
2% |
TOTAL: |
1,175 |
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Note the wide divergence of the sexual orientation category data from the national aggregate. It is clear that state requirements have a dramatic affect in reporting hate crimes based on sexual orientation at the federal level. States which criminalize bias crimes based on sexual orientation and require reporting of the data at the state level are much more likely to report a hate crime at the federal level. Where states don't have such laws in place, many agencies may simply overlook evidence that a crime is a hate crime when there is no prosecutorial imperative to prove it as such.
There are many other reasons to cast a suspicious eye on the national Hate Crime Statistics. The Hate Crime Data Collection Guidelines (PDF: 71KB/27 Pages) states on page 10 that the 1930's-era Summary Reporting System (the system used by most states use to report overall crime statistics to the FBI) only requires reporting of property crime (vandalism, arson, etc.) after an arrest is made. The guidelines caution jurisdictions that for reporting hate crimes, they are to go ahead and report it regardless of whether an arrest is made. It is impossible to know how many law enforcement agencies are careful enough to note this difference in reporting requirements between ordinary crimes and hate crimes. This may not only impact reports of crimes based on sexual orientation, but religion as well. Many synagogues and mosques, like gay and lesbian organizations and businesses, suffer graffiti, broken windows and other property damage for which no arrest is ever made.
Finally, many communities are loathe to be associated with hate crimes. There is tremendous economic, social, and political pressure to avoid the stigma, especially in areas where such reporting can be particularly sensitive due to historical circumstances. Alabama and Mississippi only reported a single hate crime incident each for all of 2003. Meanwhile North Dakota, the least populous state with the nation's lowest crime rate — a quarter of Alabama 's and Mississippi 's overall crime rate — managed to come up with 18 incidents. This is despite the fact that North Dakota, like Alabama and Mississippi, has no hate crime laws on the books for sexual orientation.
It often only takes a missing wallet for police to classify a crime as an ordinary robbery and assault rather than a gay bashing, regardless of the threats and epithets used during the crime.
Conservatives accuse GLBT anti-violence activists of inflating their numbers whenever they report hate crime statistics higher than the FBI's. But given the deficiencies of the FBI's own data, it is clear that the true story behind the official statistics is worse than we know. How much worse, no one can say.
NOTES:
1. According to the Anti-Defamation League, states which provide penalties and require reporting based on sexual orientation as of 2003) are: Arizona, California, Connecticut, District of Columbia, Florida, Illinois, Iowa, Minnesota, Nevada, Oregon, Texas, Washington. [Back]
2. According to the Anti-Defamation League, states which do not provide for penalties and do not require reporting based on sexual orientation as of 2003) are: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Colorado, Georgia, Idaho, Indiana, Mississippi, Montana, North Carolina, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, South Carolina, South Dakota, Utah, Virginia, West Virginia, Wyoming. [Back]
Once upon a time, there was a very lovely lady by the name of Annie. She was the treasure of the dog park. She brought her two dogs, Wilber and Phoebe, with her every morning. She told us all about her homeland somewhere in England. I can't remember. Was it Nottingham? Derbyshire? Gobbspittle-upon-Tyne? I don't know – it was someplace magical, quaint and so very picturesque.
But of course it wasn't enough to live in a picturesque English Village. She had to run off and go on a great adventure with George in Greece. They eventually found their way to America, to the pueblopolis of Tucson. And they also found their way into the hearts of everyone they met at the dog park.
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And then one day, a small dog appeared at the dog park. Nobody knew who it belonged to. It was a puppy, so defenseless and helpless, yet full of energy. After as while, it became obvious that this puppy had been dumped there and everybody was sad.
Annie said, "I know! I'll take it home and we'll see if we can find it's owners!" The other doggie parents at the dog park nodded in agreement and relief, and so she took the puppy home.
But three dogs in a house is a lot, isn't it? And besides, George was having to look for another job, and maybe even leave the state. They knew they could not keep their little buddy. So Christopher Gerron said, "Hey! I know! Why don't I keep the little puppy?"
And so it went. We now have two dogs, Twister and Buster. Chris and Buster of course got along right away. Buster and Twister spent a week sorting things out, but now they seem to get along very well. And now, after few a rough starts, Buster and I have come to terms and are getting along.
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But now we are not so happy because George is taking Annie away from us, from the lovely little pueblo to the glamorous life in Reston, Virginia. Mornings at the dog park will not be the same.
George, Annie, we hope you'll return to our happy little valley, but if you don't we hope you will find a nice and lovely dog park wherever you go, and a good band of friends at that dog park just like the ones you are leaving here. But if you ask me, I'll tell you – I spent three years in the D.C. area.
Awful people.
Hurry back. I'll miss you., and so will Chris, Twister, and Buster.
On this date in 1882, Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday and party left the town of Tombstone, never to return. – Associated Press, March 21, 2005.
The Wild West wasn’t that long ago, nor is it that far away.
| Columbus, New Mexico, site of Pancho Villa's raid, March 9, 1916. | |
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| By the way, that's the Border Patrol at right. |
© LookingForSam / Jim Burroway |
Last Friday, there was a
prison break in Nogales, Sonora, just across the border and barely sixty
miles from Tucson. Six inmates escaped from a maximum security (as things go
there) prison and promptly went on a violent crime spree, which included
robbing a bank, running down the husband of a U.S. diplomat and
pistol-whipping a motorist in one of several carjackings. They were last
seen near Mariposa Canyon, just west of Nogales on the U.S. border.
Authorities on both sides of the border believe they may be trying to get
into the U.S.
¡Viva Pancho Villa!
| The border fence in Nogales, Sonora |
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© LookingForSam / Jim Burroway |
Meanwhile, Chris and I enjoyed a very lovely drive on a warm spring-like afternoon this past weekend on the isolated back roads around Kitt Peak, west of Tucson.
By the way Mom, remember that really great restaurant in Nogales where we enjoyed a nice and generous parilla before taking the taxi back to the tourist district near the border? The same one we took Uncle Gary and Aunt Marianne to when they came to visit? The one in which a local “alleged drug kingpin” was executed as he paid his bill about a month ago? The bistek and abodabo was out of this world, but I’m thinking next time we’ll go to Café Ajijíc. Their coffee and desserts are to die for.
Okay, let me rephrase that…
Chris and I saw Fargo again about a week ago. The dialogue in that movie never fails to crack Chris up. He’s from the south (west Texas to be exact), so he’s not very accustomed to the mild-mannered and unassuming speech of Midwesterners. He first thought my Dad’s relatives didn’t like him because they seemed to be so reserved. So I had to educate him on how Midwesterners express themselves.
Like the time we were visiting with my aunt and uncle and I asked my uncle how their trip went. They had driven back to Akron from their visit to Tucson so they could take their time and see the sights along the way. My uncle nodded and said, “Not too bad.”
That means they had a wonderful time.
Fargo is full of dialogue like that, and we’re constantly nudging each other throughout the movie when someone says something really nice about something by expressing the absence of the negative.
That’s the secret to interpreting what Midwesterners say: the denial of the negative equals the positive. “Can’t complain” means life is good. “Could be worse” means the weather is glorious.
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And by the way, the weather here in Tucson really is glorious right now. Cool mornings, clear blue skies, bright sunny afternoons, with temperatures reaching up into the low-80’s (about 27° C). Chris and I sat on the patio and watched the clouds play on the mountains, the birds were chirping in the trees and the dogs found a warm patch of concrete to sun themselves on. Everything was absolutely perfect. When you live here (or on either coast or in the South), the proper way to describe weather like this is to use the term “glorious”. This is no time to spare the superlatives.
But superlatives don't always come easily to me. And as I look at this picture from Fairbanks, Alaska, all I can think of to say is this: you sure could do a whole lot worse than living in Arizona.
Via NPR. For more pictures, visit the artist’s website. And be sure to read his witty commentary. Not too shabby!
When Chris and I go on our weekend road trips, we've started noticing something we hadn’t noticed before: gay bars in smaller towns.
© LookingForSam /
Jim Burroway
I don’t think we’re suddenly noticing them because they’re a new phenomenon. Most of them have a weather-beaten look about them like they’ve been around for quite some time.
But it’s not just the fact that these bars exist that’s surprising, it’s the names that they have. In the major urban areas, gay bars tend to have rather ordinary names, like Union Station, or Charley’s, or The Metro Grill. Sure, there’s an occasional bar here and there that tries to use some sort of double-entendre, but even there, they tend to be somewhat blatant.
But in the smaller towns, you can tell that the owners try to walk some sort of fine line. They try to use the name of their establishment to communicate a couple of things. First, the name has to be just suggestive enough so straight people aren't likely to accidentally wander in. And the name has to be clear enough so gay people can find it. But the name also has to be somewhat discrete, to keep from drawing too much attention. These competing concerns make for quite a tightrope.
But too often, the name ends up reflecting not only the local community's homophobia, but it also tends to communicate the internalized homophobia of many of these owners, a sort of sleazy self-directed shame that is as clear as the lettering above the door. This makes for some pretty entertaining names, like “Rumors” or “Knowing Wink's”.
Chris and I have been inspired to invent a new road game for those long stretches of highway. We call it “Rural Gay Bars”. Here's how it works: generally we're driving along a long, lonely stretch of highway with the radio on or one of our road trip compilation CD's playing. And suddenly out of nowhere maybe we pass a billboard or a song comes on and one of us shouts out something like “Strange Fruits!” We laugh, and if it's good enough, it goes on the list. Whoever can come up with the cleverest name for a rural gay bar wins. The rules are completely subjective.
Here is what we came up with so far. Some of these names are actually real bars that we have seen, but most are completely made up.
Care to add to the list?
Researcher Qazi Rahman and his colleagues in London have published a paper that says most men read maps according to directional coordinates (north, south, east, and west) and most women find their way around using landmarks. But according to the study, gay men rely more on landmarks than straight men on average, mimicking the way women tend to get around.
Now, I can’t answer for everybody, and I certainly don't want to perpetuate stereotypes, but at least part of this rings true for me. I often don’t know quite where north is with any great precision. I spent three years finding my way around the DC area with no problems whatsoever before learning that the entire city is tilted at a 45 degree slant when you look at it on the map. While ordinary streets run north-south or east-west, most of the major roads (the ones you really want to take if you want to get anywhere) tend to run diagonally. For my first three months there, I thought the Mall ran north-south. It actually runs east-west. Yet somehow I never got lost.
But when I moved to Dallas I was always missing my exit. You see, in DC (and in Cincinnati) I always knew what exit to take because it was either over a hill or beyond a bend or something like that. Dallas, being an expansive sprawl on the flat Texas prairie, offered no such navigational landmarks. All of the exits looked the same. Consequently, I would never realize when my exit was approaching until after I passed it.
Where Dallas was devoid of landmarks, the suburb of Plano was positively baffling in its banality. Not only did all of the streets look the same, but many of them had similar sounding names. Understanding the differences between Park and Parker and Plano Parkway was too much to handle.
To make matters worse, the mind-numbing uniformity of the architecture didn’t help at all. People would give me directions to their house, invariably telling me to make a right at the intersection of Preston and Park (or was it Parker?), and I could never picture it in my mind’s eye. That’s when I would ask, “Oh, is that the corner with the gas station in front of the shopping center?”
“Yes,” they would inevitably say. Then they would pause.
You see, that was the joke. Every corner in Plano has a gas station in front of a shopping center.
Now I’m living in Tucson and I have no trouble getting around. The mountains help a lot. But I still find I get the names of the north-south streets mixed up. Is Swan east or west of Alvernon? And is Country Club between them or is it over further west towards Campbell? Wait a minute. It might be further east towards Wilmot. Or Craycroft. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I still know exactly how to get to that one Starbucks on the corner between Fry’s supermarket and Bed, Bath & Beyond.
© LookingForSam /
Jim Burroway
Okay, so go ahead and say it: I read maps like a girl. But there is one thing about me that is all man. When I get lost, I’ll do just about anything to keep from asking for directions.
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