Like so many others, I was so deeply disappointed last week to learn that the Matthew Shepard Act had been dropped from the final version of the Defense Authorization Bill. 

I clearly remember learning about the brutal hate crime that resulted in Matthew’s death.  I was a year out of college, planning my wedding, and was feeling as if I had the world at my feet.  I was still deeply in denial about my own sexuality, but can recall following the news reports with a sense of horror and grief.  Reading the details of what this kind-eyed boy, just a year younger than me, had gone through…it was, and is, beyond my ability to comprehend.

If it had passed, “The Matthew Shepard Act would have expand the 1969 United States federal hate-crime law to include crimes motivated by a victim’s actual or perceived gender, sexual orientation, gender identity, or disability.”*   Seems pretty straightforward right?

It has been nine years since Matthew’s death.  Nine years, and despite the efforts of Matthew’s family and other committed activists, we still do not have federal protection for crimes perpetrated against individuals or groups based on their sexual orientation or gender identity.  Why?

There are many reasons, some of which I can even wrap my brain around politically, that the Act was dropped from the defense bill.  But even if we can accept the reasons, it does not minimize the fact that this represents a loss (or at the very least a failure to achieve necessary and long deserved progress) for the entire LGBTQ community.

The news that this act was dropped from the bill, especially coming so close on the heels of the dropping of transgender protection from ENDA, is hard to accept.  So many people fought so hard for both of those pieces of legislation.  So many people needed the protection they would have and should have provided.  So many people are left vulnerable and legally and politically defenseless by the failure of our political system to move themselves beyond a process so entrenched in personal prejudice and theocratic ideology.

Locally, there have been some small, but not insignificant, steps forward lately.  It is hard to wholeheartedly celebrate these victories when they are followed closely in the news by the story of the third anti-gay attack this year in the city of Scottsdale, but celebrate we must.  We have to celebrate, to push forward, to sing the victories from our rooftops and to fight loudly and determinedly against the setbacks.

When we talk about activism, about working to create real and necessary change, it is easy to get fired up and energized by the cause.  It is also all too easy to get beaten down and to feel as if all the efforts are pointless and that real progress will always continue to elude us.   By their very nature, activism and burnout go hand in hand, but when a fight is worth fighting there will always be people to dust off the disappointment, pick up the pieces and keep moving forward. 

I cannot imagine how Matthew’s parents must have felt upon hearing the news that the legislation they had worked so long and hard for - the act that bore their son’s name - had been dropped from the bill.  But still, they refuse to give up.

“Make no mistake; this is a small triumph of process over principle.  We are dedicated to redoubling our efforts next year to achieve our vision of a hate-free America that truly includes everyone.  This has never simply been about Matthew Shepard and our family, this legislation is a gift delayed but never forgotten for all America’s families.” ~ Judy and Dennis Shepard.

Their efforts exemplify the belief that the only way to counter hatred, prejudice and ignorance is with passion and determination and by holding onto the belief that it is possible to create change. With their work, Judy and Denis Shepard are saying that the legacy of hatred must never be resignation, or disillusionment or cynicism.

Indeed, if there is to be hope of creating real change, the legacy of hatred must always be love.

* HR 1592, the House bill