WEDNESDAY, JULY 23, 2008 
 

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Krishna Stone, Pauline Park and Chris Burgess at an April 25 vigil on Christopher Street. At the event’s end, a lavender balloon was let free. Photos: Alina Oswald.



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LOCAL NEWS

Remembering Lawrence King
An emotional West Village vigil marks the national Day of Silence and a slain teenager.

By Alina Oswald
Friday, April 25, 2008

Ryan White, Rita Hester, Matthew Shepard, “the Jersey four” and now Lawrence (a.k.a. Larry) King. All victims of harassment, bullying or hate crimes based on their HIV status, gender identification or sexuality. We remember them in our vigils. We know their legacies as the Ryan White CARE Act, the Transgender Day of Remembrance or the Matthew Shepard Foundation. Other legacies are yet to come, simply because the hate acts happened not years, but rather months, ago.

Created in 1996 by students from the University of Virginia, the Day of Silence represents a silent instrument in schools for fighting hate-driven behaviors against LGBT individuals.
“The Day of Silence is a very different kind of protest, a silent one, a powerful way of getting people to learn about hate crime,” said Nancy Caamano, the deputy executive director of Hudson Pride Connections, an LGBTQ and HIV/AIDS organization in Jersey City.

Ideally, student empowerment should come from the school administration, which usually addresses bullying when directed to someone’s weight or gender. But the administrations don’t know how to address bullying based on gender identity and sexuality. Thus, Day of Silence was born.

Now in its 12th year, the event, held April 25, was dedicated to Lawrence King, a effeminate 15-year-old from Oxnard, Calif. who was shot in the head in his school’s computer lab by a 14-year-old. He was killed because he was gay.

“It’s tragic and it’s sad,” said Chris Burgess, director of School Programs at Safe Horizon, where he’s running a school-based trauma and intervention program on issues that affect LGBT students.

“Things like this happen everyday, although [they] don’t usually get media attention,” Burgess said, adding that the King murder was an exception because it happened on school grounds, a place supposed to be safe.

On this year’s Day of Silence many individuals across the country took the vow of silence and gathered together in vigils to remember the victims of hate crimes, and also to inspire others to carry on and take action in a non-discriminatory and non-violent way.

Daryl Presgraves, media relations manager at the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network (GLSEN), said the events are healing and inspirational. “We think we live in a society where things like this don’t happen; [the Day of Silence] makes us realize how far we have to go.”

On April 25, people gathered in Christopher Street Park in the West Village to attend a Day of Silence vigil. Among those present were Krishna Stone representing Gay Men’s Health Crisis; Robert De Anthony, founder and president of Our Youth, a Jersey City LGBTQ youth organization; Pauline Park, chair at NYAGRA (New York Association for Gender Rights Advocacy); Carl Siciliano, executive director of the Ali Forney Day Center; and several local students and teachers.

Steven Gordon, also member of the Ali Forney Day Center, hosted the event that turned out to be an inspiring and eye-opening open-air open mic. As the sun set over the Hudson, individuals at Christopher Street Park shared their own experiences with harassment, bullying, survival and coming out to their friends and families through stories, poems, songs, and prayers. They also left messages for Lawrence King on the large Day of Silence poster, remembering his life. 

In an emotional speech, Burgess shared exactly how much he related to the slain teenager Lawrence King. As a 12 year old who didn’t fit in, Burgess felt so desperate that he wanted to die—he even left a suicide letter he for his mother next to a Life box of cereals.
Today, he’s more optimistic. “I believe that personal conversations will lead people understand LGBT individuals,” he said. “Conversation will prevent [hate acts], but not entirely.”

After his speech, Burgess released a balloon that rose toward the sunset sky.

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