The other
day, I heard about it: One 14-year-old
boy stabbed a classmate in front of a Bronx junior high school. Both were scheduled to step up to the podium
and graduate this week. Instead, the boy
who was stabbed is lying in casket and the boy who stabbed him is in a jail
cell.
I’d heard
that the stabber was so bullied that, on the day he stabbed his classmate (who
was once his friend and skateboard buddy), it was the first time he’d been to
school in weeks. He could barely leave
his apartment; other kids—some of whom didn’t even attend the school—came to
his building specifically to taunt him and even to make death threats.
Knowing
nothing about him, or the other boy, I immediately thought the bullying had to
do with his actual or perceived sexuality or gender identity. I hope I don’t seem as if I’m gloating when I
say I was right. At the time, I don’t
know why the thought entered my mind.
But now I think I know why it did.
You see, I
experienced a pretty fair amount of bullying myself all through school,
practically from the first day I can recall all the way through college. Every single incident included homophobic and
misogynistic taunts. I was called “fag”,
“queer,” “fairy” and all of the old standards.
Relationships were invented between me and shy, lonely boys who were not
considered terribly masculine and with whom I just happened to talk one day or
another. Sometimes those alleged
liaisons were also used to label me as a girl, or more precisely, a non-male.
(Little did they know!) Of course, when
anyone was seen as female—whether or not he or she actually was—it was not in a
flattering light, even if the girl was seen as sexually attractive, or at least
available. The “c” word was one of the
nicer labels attached to those born with XX chromosomes.
And, I’ll
admit, I did a bit of bullying myself, including one pretty serious
incident. I’ve told a few people about
it; most explain it away as “self defense” or a reaction to peer or other kinds
of pressures I experienced. While their
intentions might be benign or even protective, I have never tried to so
rationalize the bullying I committed.
By the same
token, I will not try to use the bullying Noel Estevez
experienced to rationalize, let alone justify stabbing Timothy Crump, any more than I would accept the taunts,
beatings and other harassment a former partner of mine experienced in his
childhood and early adult life as an excuse for the abuse he committed against
me. However, my experience has also led
me to understand, I believe, why Estevez acted
as he did.
So have the
stories I’ve heard from friends, acquaintances, current and former co-workers
and students and others who were taunted, threatened, beaten and otherwise
harassed—sometimes to the point that they dropped out of school and ran away
from home. Every single one of their taunters was
motivated by homophobia, misogyny (in the case of girls who were, or were
perceived as, lesbians) or what we might today recognize as transphobia.
Nearly
everyone who has worked with or studied young people who’ve committed violent
crime recognize that the stabbings, shootings, beatings or other forms of
brutality they inflict on others are almost invariably impulsive and
instinctive. Those with a more
scientific orientation than mine might accuse me of being over-simplistic, but
I think there is a very common-sensical reason:
A fourteen-year-old simply doesn’t have the skills, emotional and
intellectual resources—or, I suspect, even the body chemistry—to deal with
blows, whether they’re physical or emotional, the way some of us learn to deal
with assaults on our dignity and persons when we’re forty.
That is the
reason why I think it’s so wrong to charge Noel Estevez
as an adult. I know lots of
people will say, “Well, if he’s old enough to kill, he’s old enough to pay for
it.” I wholeheartedly agree. However, locking up such a young man with
older men who’ve killed more than once or who started their criminal careers
before his mother was born will do nothing to make him pay whatever debt he can
pay for taking a classmate’s life. It will
also do nothing to help him deal with the impulses on which he acted; in fact,
being incarcerated with career criminals will only make him more likely to
respond to the next affront with violence has as much chance of ending in his
own death as that of his attacker.
However,
treating Estevez as a juvenile might at least
give him access to whatever help he needs in dealing with the traumas he’s
experienced. Some have said he acted in
self-defense; I don’t think anyone portrayed him as a crazed homicidal maniac. Given the sort of environment and treatments
he needs, it’s unlikely he’d ever commit such an act again, even under the most
extreme duress, including homophobic death threats.