Prior to the funeral of the slain man, Danny Lee Overstreet, there was concern that the notorious Rev. Fred Phelps would bring his "God hates fags" caravan to Roanoke to picket the funeral. 

According to a story in the Roanoke Times, members of the Roanoke Community responded to the announcement that Phelps would be coming by organizing a "Phelps-A-Thon". The plan was to ask people to pledge a dollar amount for every five minutes that Phelps protested, with the proceeds going to help pay for the medical expenses of the victims and counseling for those who were at the bar that night. The group would have a poster that would say, "Fred, you've already helped us raise" and then there would be a space to put in an updated figure. 

As it turns out, Rev. Phelps decided not to go to Roanoke, and the funeral proceeded without disruption. The fund, which had received pledges of $2400, has already received $1500, and they expect most of the contributions to be made, even without Phelps' appearance. 

This seems like a very good way to respond to hateful speakers that you really wish would just keep quiet. Let them have their freedom of speech, but if they must rant, use their ranting for a good cause. Well done, Roanoke! Well done indeed! 

Brad Pardee
Editor

Scenario 1: Imagine a student who, on more than one occasion, joined in the heckling of an organization for gay students. Imagine this student telling certain members of the group that they shouldn't attend the group's next meeting. Then imagine that this student goes to that meeting, pulls out a gun and begins shooting people. 

Would there be any question that this was a hate-based crime? Of course not. 

Scenario 2: Imagine a student who is going on a rampage through his school, shooting at students and teachers, killing some while forcing the rest to either hide or flee for their lives. Imagine that this student disparages an African-American for their race prior to shooting them in cold blood. Imagine further that this student is taped making hateful statement about African-Americans. 

Any questions about the motivation in this scenario? Again, no. 

Suppose we change the scenarios though. In scenario 1, make it a student prayer meeting instead of an organization for gay students. In scenario 2, make it Christians instead of African-Americans. If you do that, you have the shootings at Heath High School in Paducah, Kentucky in December of 1997 and the shootings at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colorado in April of 1999, respectively. 

Do we still consider them hate crimes? The stories in the news don't seem to suggest that. When Matthew Shepard was brutally murdered, we heard about violence springing from hate. After Paducah, we heard about guns in the schools. When James Byrd was dragged to his death behind a pick-up truck, we heard about hate. After Columbine, we heard about people who felt ostracized and left out. 

The fact is that hate seems to be in the eye of the beholder, and the definition of hate-based crime doesn't seem to depend on who hated whom. On the contrary, it seems to hinge on who the victim is and who the attacker is. If a white man hates minorities and kills a black man because of his race, that's a hate crime. If a son hates his father and kills him because he is being written out of the will, that's not a hate crime. If a woman is attacked by someone who hates her because she is a lesbian, that's a hate crime. If a woman is attacked by one of her employees because she promoted someone else, that's not a hate crime. In each case, the crime was motivated by hate, but that wasn't enough to make it a hate crime. 

This is one of the reasons why hate crimes legislation, such as that which is pending before Congress, is a bad idea. Hate has become such a buzzword and is used so frequently for political purposes that we have to question whether or not it is going to be possible for our criminal justice system to distinguish betweens crimes based on hate and crimes based on anything else. 

A similar reason is that it tells us that some lives are of more value than others. Suppose a grandmother is brutally murdered when she surprises a burglar in her home. Now suppose that a black man is brutally murdered on the street by a white supremacist because of his race. In both cases, the murder is brutal and the attacker is charged, tried, and convicted of murder. In the second case, though, the crime is a hate crime, so the penalties are higher. What this says is that the grandmother's life was less valuable and that the just penalty for her murder was less than that for the man murdered because of his race. This is simply wrong. All lives are equally precious and to make one penalty higher on the sole basis of the attacker's motivation is to deny this principle. 

Finally, when we penalize hate crimes, we are penalizing thoughts and beliefs, not actions. A person is entitled to say even the most hateful things because we guarantee the freedom of speech, no matter how odious, and that which a man may legally say he can most assuredly think. If a man's thoughts are legal prior to his action, then they shouldn't be a cause for additional punishment after the fact. Motive may be an element to use in deciding guilt or innocence, because one piece of the puzzle in any case would be to find out who would have a reason to commit the crime. However, it is intent, not motivation, which should determine the severity of the punishment. If the intent is to brutally attack someone, then once guilt has been established, it doesn't matter why. 

There are certainly people who are doing and saying hateful things, some of which are legal and some of which are not. However, there are many ways and places to express our disagreement, and in some cases, outrage with the views a person may hold. Using the criminal justice system to say that an idea is wrong, no matter how horrific it may be, should not be one of them.