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Life after Gwen by
Sylvia Guerrero
[Abstract] Full Text [PDF]
I am not sure how I expected to feel at this point. When my daughter Gwen,
a
transgender teenager, was brutally murdered on Oct. 4, 2002, I was sure
that I
would never feel whole again. Looking back, I didn't yet know exactly what
"transgender" meant or how to fully embrace my child's identity. But I
knew one
thing: I wanted justice for my child.
I thought that maybe I'd feel better on the day when the four suspects in
her
murder were brought to justice. More than three years and three months
since
Gwen's murder that day is finally here. On Friday, these men are being
sentenced
to prison terms for their actions, two of them convicted of second-degree
murder
and two taking plea bargains for voluntary manslaughter. I guess I hoped
that
once we got to the sentencing date, the pain would end and I could get
back to
my life. But it hasn't and I can't.
No amount of justice can return the part of me that these men took when
they
killed Gwen. The closure that people keep talking about hasn't come. It
would be
so much easier to write that it had. After all, that is what most people
want to
read: The system worked; my family is whole; the story is over. It would
be
comforting and allow us to get on with our lives. Of the many things I'm
feeling, closure isn't one of them.
I'm angry. Angry that Gwen's brothers and her nieces and nephews won't get
to
grow up knowing her the way her aunts, uncles, older sister and I did.
Angry
that instead of celebrating her birthday, we get together each year to
commemorate her death. Angry that, in both trials, the defendants tried to
blame
Gwen for her own murder. Angry that other young lesbian, gay, bisexual or
transgender kids continue to face the discrimination she did in our public
schools and our workforce.
I'm also grateful. Grateful that my family and our friends rose to the
challenge
and sat through two gruesome and explicit criminal trials to make sure
that
everyone knew that Gwen was loved for who she was. I'm grateful for the
support
we've all received from perfect strangers who have told us in-person and
through
e-mail that we are in their thoughts and prayers. I'm grateful for the
remorse
that two of the defendants and some of their family members have expressed
to me
and my family.
And I'm sad. Sad that I'll never get to see Gwen grow into the beautiful
woman
she would have become. Sad that four men chose to end my daughter's life,
and
throw away their own simply because they thought they were acting like
"real
men." And sad that other transgender women have been killed since Gwen's
murder
and that we don't have a realistic end in sight to that violence.
Within this mix of emotions, though, the one that I hold onto most dearly
is
hope. Since that tragic night, my own family has grown by two beautiful
grandchildren. More and more parents are supporting their transgender
children.
California has become the country's most protective state for transgender
people. And just this month, a new law has been proposed in Sacramento,
the Gwen
Araujo Justice for Victims Act, authored by Assemblywoman Sally Lieber,
D-Mountain View, and sponsored by Equality California, an LGBT
civil-rights
lobbying group, to protect people from being blamed for their own murder.
Maybe the reason I don't have closure around Gwen's death is that there is
still
work to do. If I've learned anything since Gwen's murder, it is that hope
alone
is not enough. Each of us who hopes to live in a state where our families
are
protected needs to work toward making California that place. For instance,
boys
and girls in schools throughout the Bay Area need to hear, firsthand, how
important it is to be themselves and to respect each other's differences.
None of us can change the way the world was on Oct. 4, 2002. But each of
us now
has an important role to play in creating a state where we can celebrate
more
birthdays and commemorate fewer murders.
Sylvia Guerrero is the mother of Gwen Araujo and an activist for LGBT
civil
rights. She speaks at schools around the Bay Area through the Gwen Araujo
Transgender Education Fund administered by the Horizons Foundation.
 Gwen
Araujo Memorial Transgender Education Fund
On the first anniversary
of Gwen Araujo’s brutal murder in Newark, California, Horizons
Foundation created a fund that would reduce the ignorance and hatred
that caused this terrible hate-crime in the Bay Area.
On October 3, Gwen Araujo, an
attractive 17-year-old with a radiant smile and a zest for life, went
to a party in Newark, California. She drank a fair amount of beer. She
flirted with 24-year-old Jose Merel, a boy she had something of a
crush on. She had anal sex with him, and perhaps with Jose’s friend,
22-year-old Michael Magidson, as well. Maybe something about the
sex suggested to Jose or to Michael that there was something different
about Gwen. For some reason, Jose’s brother’s girlfriend, Nicole
Brown, followed or took Gwen into the bathroom where she discovered
that, biologically speaking, Gwen wasn’t a girl at all.
“It’s a man; let’s go!”
Nicole called out... and all hell broke loose."
Gwen was knocked to the floor, her skirt pulled up. Jose was the first
to attack her, but Michael and 19-year-old Jaron Nabors quickly joined
in. Someone asked for a knife and Jaron offered the knife from his
pocket. Gwen was stabbed and gashed in the face. Jose and Michael then
dragged semi-conscious Gwen into a garage where Gwen was strangled
with a rope. The two boys later put Gwen’s body in the back of
Michael’s truck and, together with Jaron, drove 150 miles into the
Sierra Nevada foothills, where they dug a hole and buried Gwen’s
body, still bound hand and foot and wrapped in a sheet.
For almost two weeks, no one at
the party said anything to police about what had happened, although
dark rumors circulated that eventually got back to Gwen’s frantic
mother and aunt. On October 16, Jaron Nabors contacted Newark police
and took them to where Gwen’s body was buried. Jose, Michael, and
Jaron were arrested and charged with murder. Since California is one
of five states that include gender identity as a hate crime category,
the three were charged with committing a hate crime as well. |
Other links
related to this article
Useful links
Gwen Araujo Memorial Transgender Education Fund and her photo
http://www.transgenderzone.com/library/st/fulltext/59.htm
Citation:
The Gwen Araujo
Transgender Education Fund
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