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Sexuality: Unacceptable
"The reason I want to talk about this after what happened to Lawrence King is that it didn’t just happen to him. The killing happened to everyone who cares about him. "
By Anne Santos
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Candlelight vigils and rallies continue in honor of Lawrence "Larry" King, a 15 year old who was shot at his Middle School in Oxnard, California. Larry was bullied at school for being openly gay and also gender non-conforming -- he wore women's clothing and make-up on occasion -- and it is thought that his identity provoked another student to kill him. Youth Radio's Anne Santos reminds us that it wasn't just Larry King's life that was affected by violent homophobia. Here's her own story of when she was assaulted for being gay, and how her family still feels the trauma.
One night last week, I was talking to my mom on the phone, and I broke the news about what happened to 15-year-old Lawrence King, the openly gay boy shot by a classmate in Oxnard, California. The tone in her voice changed, and I knew what was coming.
She asked me to come back home. For me, that’s asking a lot.
See, last May, two guys verbally harassed me, followed me to my car, and then physically attacked me for being gay.
It all happened on Mother’s Day. I had just gotten off of work when two guys started yelling homophobic insults at me. I drove to the cemetery where my father is buried… and the men followed me there.
I guess I didn’t lock my door, and suddenly someone was grabbing me and pulling me out really hard, then slamming me against my truck. Well, they kicked my ass pretty bad. They ripped my shirt. They were just laughing the whole time. Calling me names, saying I deserved this.
And I was just quiet. Finally after I don’t know how long, it felt like a long time, the guy standing in the back said “let’s just go, let’s just go.”
My right eye was swollen shut. I don’t remember if there was blood. My left eye was kind of shut, and that’s the eye I was looking through when I was driving to the hospital. My shirt was ripped; I think my pants were ripped. I looked like crap. I didn’t want anybody to see that. Except for my mom and sister.
Here’s how my sister Iza remembers that day.
IZA (On Tape)
You called me on my cell phone and I thought you just needed me to get something from your car. And I opened the door and I saw your shirt ripped. And you weren’t moving. I tried talking to you but you weren’t talking. Then I started getting mad because you weren’t answering me. You got hurt. You could tell you got hurt.
ANNE (On Tape)
What about mom? Do you remember how mom was reacting?
IZA
mom said I don’t care what happens to me if I see them again, one of them is going to be dead… and she doesn’t care if it’s her.
ANNE
The reason I want to talk about this after what happened to Lawrence King is that it didn’t just happen to him. The killing happened to everyone who cares about him.
MOM (On Tape)
…My whole being was in rage, because they hurt you. Because I never never lay a hand on you, and you know that- you and your sister. Y'know when those people hurt you, I just don’t want to hurt them- I want to kill them for what they did to you.
ANNE
I was in the hospital for a couple hours before the cops came and started asking me questions and taking pictures of me. One officer was telling my family to “roll up her shirt” so they could take pictures of the bruises. “Roll up her pant leg” so they could take pictures of my ankles. “Let me take pictures of her face.” It made me feel like I was one of the victims on TV, like on CSI when you see police taking crime scene pictures. And so I felt violated and I got pissed off.
The next day my whole family showed support for my mom, sister and me. They came with food and with helping hands. But that day when I took a nap, the nightmares started.
My mom said I’d be yelling for her, and I’d have my hands over my face like I was blocking someone. Then I started swinging my arms around and I’d start moving around. And she said I’d yell, “No! No! Don’t touch! Me!”
They got worse to the point where I’d wake up and I’d have a black eye. And it was because I was hitting myself. I felt them hitting me, but it was me hitting myself. And my mom had a hard time with that.
What my mom and I decided was that I should move to L.A.. to live with my aunt, Tita Bebot.
MOM (On Tape)
It breaks my heart when I say okay you can go live in L.A. It’s a never ending responsibility of thinking about you guys welfare. It’s hard but I have to- I have to show the strength that I have. Because I know if you see me crying here and there, you will change your mind. And I don’t want to hold you up because you might have a better opportunity in LA than here.
ANNE
Moving to Los Angeles was definitely the right decision. I feel that people are more accepting here of who I am.
My family will always protect my heart in Sacramento, but I’m grateful to be somewhere I can feel physically safe. At least, that’s how I felt until I called my mom up to tell her about what happened in Oxnard.
I had no idea where Oxnard was, but my mom did, and the simple fact that it was closer to me than to her, scared her.
I reminded her of everything I went through back home. Here in L.A., I haven’t experienced anything negative, nothing near what I went through everyday in Sacramento. And I think that’s because diversity is more visible in places like L.A. people are more willing to accept those who are different.
True, there are safe spaces in my hometown – and I’m sure there are some in Oxnard too. But a those small safe spaces do not extend overall safety in the community for gay and lesbian people.
Back home, in Sacramento, we all knew about the little Rainbow Triangle in Downtown. As soon as I turned 18, that was the first place I went to. Finally seeing other gay people, just hanging out, having a good time, made me feel safer and it made me feel accepted even if it was only on one block.
But then I started to see that even there I wasn’t safe. Gay bashers would walk by and bang on the windows, yelling slurs, and they even went as far as to break into a bunch of cars parked at a gay club.
In my opinion, Lawrence was a brave kid. He wasn’t afraid to be who he was, even though he was being teased for it AND without having a visible gay community and lots of safe spaces.
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