[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 145 (1999), Part 4]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages 5376-5377]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                 WYOMING LEADER SPEAKS OUT AGAINST HATE

                                 ______
                                 

                           HON. BARNEY FRANK

                            of massachusetts

                    in the house of representatives

                        Tuesday, March 23, 1999

  Mr. FRANK of Massachusetts. Mr. Speaker, last fall, when we received 
the terrible news of the brutal murder of Matthew Shepard, who was 
savagely beaten to death simply because he was a gay man, one of the 
calls I received

[[Page 5377]]

which heartened me came from Peter Simpson from the University of 
Wyoming. Mr. Simpson is not only a distinguished individual in his own 
right, he is the brother of the former Senator from Wyoming, Alan 
Simpson, whom many of us remember with great respect and fondness from 
his years of leadership in the United States Senate. At that time Mr. 
Simpson shared with me an eloquent speech that had been made by Philip 
Dubois, President of the University of Wyoming.
  Tragically, another gay man was a victim of brutal prejudice recently 
in Alabama, when Billy Jack Gaither was beaten to death by two vicious 
thugs in a manner sadly reminiscent of the murder of Matthew Shepard. 
In a grim coincidence, this was the week that we had planned to 
introduce a new version of the Federal hate crimes legislation which 
does not seek to supersede State law enforcement, but does seek to add 
a weapon against brutality based on prejudice.
  With Congress about to take up consideration of hate crimes 
legislation, I think it is appropriate that the eloquent words of 
President Dubois be shared with the Membership. I am appreciative of 
Peter Simpson sharing them with us, and I hope the Members will read 
this and pay close attention to the wise words included.

          Matthew Shepard Memorial Service (October 19, 1998)

       Good Evening. Let me thank each of you for being here, and 
     for the tremendous amount of support you have shown over the 
     past ten days to the family and friends of Matt Shepard, the 
     University community, and the city of Laramie.
       As your program indicates, we have attempted tonight to 
     assemble just a few of the literally hundreds of people 
     affected by this tragedy--those personally involved because 
     they were Matt's friends and those who came to be involved as 
     the events of the last ten days have unfolded. I very much 
     appreciate--as does the planning committee--the understanding 
     of the many individuals and groups who wanted to be 
     represented in this program but who also recognized the 
     limitations of time.
       A little over a week ago, we gathered on the lawn outside 
     the Newman Center. Joined at that time around a common 
     purpose, we found ourselves united as a community to pray for 
     Matthew, to demonstrate our concern for his family, and to 
     speak out against the kind of hatred and bigotry that found 
     expression in the vicious attack upon him.
       When I finished speaking that evening, I stood next to my 
     new friend, Jim Osborn, and realized that both of us were 
     shivering. It was a chilly night, but it seemed colder than 
     it really was. I looked around at the hundreds of men, women, 
     and children gathered there. With each speaker the crowd 
     seemed to draw closer together, perhaps fighting the cold or 
     perhaps chilled by the thought that somehow we might have 
     been able to prevent the attack upon Matt.
       We closed that evening with the singing of ``We Shall 
     Overcome,'' knowing in our hearts that Matt would probably 
     not win his battle. He would not overcome.
       I was awakened the next morning at 5 a.m. with a telephone 
     call. A news organization was calling me to get my reaction 
     to the word of Matt's death. The reporter's voice was filled 
     with emotion. He had watched this community for several days. 
     He had seen the pain on the expressions of nearly everyone on 
     campus and in town. He knew how much this hurt. But he needed 
     a quote.
       I recall only that my mind flooded with an unimaginable mix 
     of personal emotions and professional responsibilities. What 
     must Dennis and Judy Shepard be going through right now? Did 
     I have the authority to lower the flags on campus? How could 
     I get a statement out that would provide comfort and 
     reassurance to our gay students? What would I ever say to my 
     children if I had to tell them that their brother had died?
       The rest of this past week has been a neverending repeat of 
     that dreadful morning. Other than the death of my own father 
     three years ago, I cannot remember a week in which I have 
     felt such overpowering sadness.
       The sadness of thinking about Matt, his parents, his 
     brother, and his close friends. The sadness of thinking about 
     Matt's gay colleagues, struggling to express simultaneously 
     both their resistance to this violence and their fear that it 
     could have been them in Matt's place.
       The sadness of the University faculty and staff who have 
     struggled so hard to create a truly inclusive climate here, 
     only to have others tear down years of work in just a few 
     hours of unspeakable horror.
       The sadness of a closeknit community trying to defend 
     itself against ignorance and stereotypes. The sadness of 
     occasionally hearing expressions of such ignorance.
       Life is not fair, we've all been told, and this week we 
     lived that lesson again.
       But with this sadness have come some small moments of 
     triumph. The Homecoming Parade and the march for Matt. A 
     moment of silence as the football game, broken only by the 
     sound of tears.
       The Sunday community vigils and the coming together of this 
     community to ``Remember Matthew'' on Monday afternoon. Gay 
     Awareness Week, and the courage of our Lesbian, Gay, 
     bisexual, and Transgendered Association (LGBTA) to stay the 
     course and not to let fear ruin their plans.
       The leadership of our student organizations, ASUW, the 
     Multicultural Resource Center, the Residence Halls, the Greek 
     Community, and our student-athletes to find ways to express 
     their solidarity and support for Matt and their collective 
     opposition to violence, discrimination, and bigotry--
     regardless of any personal philosophical differences or 
     religious beliefs they might have about homosexuality.
       And the professional and personal involvement of our 
     faculty and staff in counseling students and in three days of 
     teach-ins on campus to demonstrate that education and free 
     expression are the most powerful weapons we have against 
     forces that would divide us as an academic community and as a 
     society.
       What now can we do? The answer is not simple, but we must 
     begin.
       We must begin by reaffirming that UW and Laramie welcome 
     all people, without regard to who or what they are.
       We must reexamine all that we have done to cultivate an 
     appreciation of diversity and make sure that we haven't 
     missed a teaching opportunity.
       We must find a way to commemorate this awful week in a way 
     that will say to the entire state and nation that we will not 
     forget what has happened here.
       And, working closely with the leaders of the local 
     community, we must be vigilant in making sure that the 
     climate for those who are different--whether defined by their 
     sexual orientation, ethnicity, religion, national origin, 
     disability, or any other personal characteristic--not only 
     meets the letter of the law but lives up to the standards of 
     our hearts.
       I hope that our elected legislators will also seize this 
     moment. I recognize that the question of hate crimes 
     legislation is a matter over which reasonable and thoughtful 
     people who are neither homophobic nor bigoted can and will 
     disagree. No hate crimes statute, even had it existed, would 
     have saved Matt. But Matt Shepard was not merely robbed, and 
     kidnapped, and murdered. This was a crime of humiliation. 
     This crime was all about being gay. No group of people should 
     have to live in this kind of fear.
       I speak only for myself and not this University, but it is 
     time our state makes a public statement through the passage 
     of such legislation that demonstrates our values, our 
     commitment to the state motto, and our collective zero 
     tolerance for hatred. Once was more than enough.
       All of us have reacted to the events of the last ten days 
     in our own personal way. Matt meant something different for 
     each of us. That is how it should be. Matt could have been my 
     son. He could have been your brother. He was our friend. All 
     of us will remember him.

     

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