What Scott Lively's Trial Means to Me.

For most this is likely old news, but I’ve been dealing with pre-semester glitches that had taken over my weekend so I missed the latest update on the Scott Lively trial.  It’s difficult for me to write about this issue without letting my emotions get the better of me.  The reasons stem from a deep and fundamental part of what it can mean to be a minority, but also a double or triple minority (depending on how you look at things). 

Growing up with a learning disability meant that I was bullied my entire childhood.  I don’t remember a part of my youth where I didn’t fear going out to play, or try to avoid other children when I did go out.  I was lucky enough to not go to a school within my district so at least when I got home they were a different set of kids.  I was socially awkward to begin with, and being a clumsy kid who missed important social cues didn’t help much. 

At home my fiercely protective sister would stand up for me whenever she could, but there were times when I had to consider her.  The same kids who picked on me in the neighborhood were often the same kids she played with, and it didn’t seem fare for her to lose her friends because I couldn’t have any. 

When I got to school it was worse.  I’ve mentioned some of the encounters I’ve had with teachers taking the side of the bullies.  A reasonable question would be why didn’t I tell my parents?  The answer is painfully simple.  There’s only so many times you can see your parents confront the issue with it getting worse before you decide the only thing you’re doing is making them feel helpless.  So for most of my adolescence I knew my parents would be on my side, but didn’t say anything because as hard as it is to admit, they couldn’t stop it. 

In many cases the teacher didn’t want me in their class, and I do believe they wanted me to give up so they wouldn’t have to deal with me.  As time went on this went from bullying to real attacks, and eventually worse.  The one thing I knew was it didn’t matter if I said anything, because I was LD I deserved it.  When the issues became about my perceived sexuality I knew the only way I could have any kind of argument was if I hid.  Otherwise, I would again deserve it. 

The upshot of this is my first lessons in how the world dealt with assaults, attacks, and mistreatment of people like me was that I didn’t count.  They could do what they wanted because I didn’t matter, at least not to the people who could really stop it.  I learned this lesson too well.  It’s been almost 20 years and I still find it hard to believe that when something happens the powers that be will actually do something about it. 

When someone tried to steal my identity I found myself surprised when the police took a report.  The woman was arrested, not for what she did to me because she didn’t quite succeed, I had nothing to steal.  The report did lead them to other successful acts of fraud and some of what she was convicted of had to do with her attempted theft on me.  What struck me in that moment was that I counted.  Wrong done to me mattered enough to try and stop it.  It felt surreal, like maybe they mistook me for someone else.  Like maybe they didn’t get the memo. 

Now, add to that the history of the holocaust.  Growing up the granddaughter of a Jewish woman gave me a bit of a unique perspective.  My family has always shown an interest in history.  My parents never hid the truth about World War 2 or the death camps.  I remember hearing about the Jews and the Star of David they had to wear, and made the connections between that, and my New York family.  I knew my grandpa and Grate Uncles served in WW2 and that one had liberated a concentration camp.  I think I was about 8 when they were explained to me.  I remember asking my mom once if I would have been gathered up because of my deformed hand.  She said no, but likely they would have because of my dyslexia. 

I knew about the trials and the charge of crimes against humanity.  I knew what that meant, and I knew it was likely the people charged had killed family of mine.  I don’t know how old I was when I saw my first pink triangle, but I made another connection.  Or maybe it was that a connection hadn’t been made by anyone else.  None of the people charged with crimes against humanity had been charged because of things they did to gays. 

I didn’t really think so deeply on it, but I automatically understood why such charges weren’t made.  What they had done to the gays wasn’t considered all that wrong.  In fact many of the men who had been held for charges of sodomy went from concentration camp to prison without seeing another free day for decades to come.  Not only had the Nazis not been wrong, but they had gotten that one right in the eyes of the masses. 

Flash forward to the beginning of the 21^st century and we have Scott Lively saying that the SS were gay.  He’s continued on with this theme by saying that anti-gay violence in Russia is actually gay men attacking gay men.  (Thank you Right Wing Watch.)  Now, over the years I’ve accepted that overall what is done to the LGBT community will be whitewashed.  Multiple US presidents have squarely ignored any wrong doing towards gays.  It isn’t unreasonable for a person to just grow to accept that some people just don’t count for as much as others. 

So, the first time I saw the charge against Scott lively accusing him of crimes against humanity I couldn’t help but shed a few tears.  I admit it, I cried like a blubbering baby.  Not because he had admitted to any wrong doing, he hasn’t.  Not because his conviction is a sure thing, it isn’t.  But we counted.  The wrong done to us mattered.  The lives of LGBT persons had the same worth as anyone else.  Our worth, our existence on this planet was no less than another’s worth.  Because or life, our existence, our expression, our way of moving through the world had the same value as those who had been violated before. 

As the last year has gone by Scott Lively has tried to down play his part in the Kill the Gays now Jail the Gays bill.  The reason in one way simply reinforces the point.  He has to say he didn’t do what he did.  He can’t say it was deserved because the people who will try him don’t believe that.  And no matter what happens in this trial that can’t be taken away.  Whether he’s found guilty or innocent the fact will still remain that when asked if it is okay to make one’s sexuality illegal the answer was a resounding NO. 

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I hope he is found guilty, and whatever the maximum punishment is I hope he gets it.  I hope he is silenced and no one ever takes his place, but no matter what happens from here on out the lies he’s told, the harm he’s caused, and the lives he’s helped end will be deemed equal to the wrong done in the past.  We counted.