Transgender Murder In Phoenix

A 22-year old transgender woman murdered in Phoenix, AZ on Monday March 20, 2006. According to news reports, she was walking with a friend near the intersection of Indian Bend Road and 35^th Avenue when someone approached her and confronted her. She was shot in the back and killed.

That much information was provided in a brief news article in the Arizona Republic the day following the shooting. In the 9 days since that time there has been nothing. Not a single word. Not one detail has been forthcoming – no name, no specifics, no nothing. At this point there is no indication to anyone outside the inner circle that the investigation is even being actively pursued or not.

My patience at this seeming vacuum of information grew as the days passed. I kept my eyes on the newspaper. There was nothing. I sent an email to the Phoenix Police Department LGBT Liaison early last week – right after it was reported - asking for details. There was no response. I asked if others in the community had heard anything. They were as in the dark as I was.

All the while, emails started flying. Do we want to schedule a vigil? Sure, but what's the victim's name??? Is there any indication that this was a hate crime? Is the police investigating this, or is it being swept under the rug? What's happening???!!!

Finally, over a week after the murder was first reported, I sent a carefully crafted email to the Mayor's Office complaining about the lack of communication. Shortly afterwards, some information was provided. Finally. I'm left wondering - why was this so difficult? Am I expecting too much? Maybe I’m spoiled, but I don’t think so.

I remember a line from the movie Cool Hand Luke: "What we have here is a failure to communicate." Somehow it seems appropriate here. But my concern is deeper than that. It's based on the realization that people around here who should get it don't seem to. The fact that they seem surprised by my reaction, and that I'm somehow feeling positioned as the bad guy here seems to me to be an indication of a deeper issue. And, I'm sure its more widespread than many of us would like to believe.

There seems to be no understanding of the sensitivity of the trans community (or perhaps of the larger GLBT community) to hate crimes against us. There is no consideration for the need to provide information so we can at least know that the issue is being worked. There is no recognition that many of the crimes against us go unsolved – and the perception is that they go unsolved because they are under-investigated. There isn’t any of that sensitivity here. So, all we’re left to go on is dead air and we’re told that we need to accept that.

I’ve seen how the Washington DC Police Department handles GLBT issues in this regard. For those looking to make their local law enforcement more GLBT friendly the model that Sgt. Brett Parsons and his team have established there is far and away the Best of Breed that I’ve seen. Perhaps the thing that makes me appreciate them so much is they’ve proven that they’re more than simply community relations ambassadors. They’re among the first ones on the scene when a violent crime involving someone from the community is reported. They’re there providing information all along the way so people aren’t left to guess. They understand the unique sensitivities involved when working with our community. And, it works. (See an article from November 2005).

I wrote to Brett Parsons, the officer in charge of the DC GLLU expressing my concerns about this incident, the way communication seems to be non-existent, and to ask for some of his thoughts. Following is some of his response:

The MPDC GLLU is a full-time police unit, with a staff of 6 full-time police officers and 10 volunteers (civilian and sworn). Although outreach and education is a large part of our mission, our primary function of the provide 24-hour law enforcement assistance to the GLBT communities and law enforcement. We are on the street responding to calls for service from the community and street officers. In all likelihood, we would have been on the scene of the homicide of the Transgender woman. Because of this, we would have timely and accurate information for the community.

Because we are in the community, we do not have to "activate" a system of communication. It already exists. We use our website, enews postings, contacts with local media and vast network of contacts in the community to get information out and gather information.

He went on to ask the same question that I ask: How can one single person effectively handle all of this in a city the size of Phoenix? It just can't be done. If the Phoenix Police Department really wants this function to be what it can and should be - it needs to have more people. The problem here isn't with any particular person - it's with a number of things including the fact that there seems to be no recognition of the delicate sensitivities involved, there is no infrastructure of communication, there is no established process, and there is absolutely no accountability. They all add up to two things: Silence and Frustration.

As a middle-class white man in this society I never had these concerns. I figured that law enforcement would take care of me, and I had confidence in the "system". I never found a need to question my protections, and in fact I rarely felt vulnerable in any capacity. Frankly, in a dozen words or less, that's what being a man was all about for me - avoiding allowing myself to be vulnerable. I must say, I did a pretty good job at it. To be vulnerable is to depend on people. The more vulnerable we are, the more our dependency.

Credible crime statistics against the transgender community are difficult to find. Many of the crimes against us go unreported for obvious reasons. And, as the debate goes on at national and state levels about hate crimes - who should be included and how they should be defined - the reality of the situation is that people are being killed. Every day. Every week. And, even sadder - a significant number of those from the transgender community being killed are youth.

It seems to me - in my still naive and idealistic way - that a mature society should protect its most vulnerable populations. For example, our culture does any number of special things to protect children - knowing that they are often victimized because they are unable to protect themselves. Crimes against children rise to a whole new level of awareness - from Amber Alerts, to publicity, to punishment, to passion. Somehow, all that same fervor is missing when it comes to crimes against other vulnerable communities. I think that in itself says volumes about our culture.

Back to the issue at hand - does it really surprise anyone that many in the transgender community (or any marginalized community, for that matter) are generally distrustful of those who we count on to protect us? I see it every single day - people dis-respected by a system that's not built to handle ambiguity very well. People mistreated due to ignorance and prejudice. People who don't receive the services they should simply because others are uncomfortable. I'm not saying that any of these things happened in this case. But if anyone can't understand the wariness that this kind of thing fosters then they need to spend a day in our shoes. That'll change their perspective.

With that in mind, there needs to be sensitivity. There needs to be an appreciation for the delicate issues involved, and there needs to be a process to handle them as such. I'd expect that to be part of the job of a GLBT Liaison, or a GLBT Advisory Committee, or local GLBT organizations and if it's not then I strongly feel that it needs to be. Otherwise, what's the point? If we can't count on those outlets to provide information, if we can't expect that they'll be sensitive to the delicate balance involved, then who can count on? And, if these outlets don't exist where we live then perhaps we need to start them.

The good news here is that the family of the victim apparently says that the police department is doing a good job and they're hopeful that the people that did this will be brought to justice. My concern isn't for what may or may not be happening in the investigation - that's a whole separate issue. My concern is that when crimes like this happen against people in our community we need to expect information. We need answers. As Sgt. Parsons articulated, we need "timely and accurate information for the community." It can't be merely an afterthought. It needs to be part of the process.

Many of us talk about education for law enforcement about the unique sensitivities involved when dealing with our community. This is bigger than that. This goes beyond the occasional interaction any of us might have when we're stopped for a traffic violation, or questioned about an incident, or come forward because we're the target of harassment or violence. This is all about establishing a healthy, functional on-going relationship between the community and law enforcement that's more than simply good PR. It's more than showing up at community functions. It's more than being our friend when things are quiet. It's a commitment to us for the long-term, and it's an investment in the value of that relationship. That's what this is about. And, that's what is so obviously missing at the times when we need it most.

In my former life I had little or no concern that my demise would come at the hands of another person whose hate/fear/prejudice was so consuming that they felt empowered to make a statement by taking the thing that is most valuable to me - my life. I cannot say that today. I cannot hide from that possibility. All I can say is, if I’m the victim of a violent crime here in Arizona (this is the 2^nd murder of a transgender person in this state less than a year) I’d hope people would demand more answers than we've seen over these past 10 days. We owe it to each other to expect that.