Why do some hate crimes in America fail to resonate?
Mary Sanchez
The December day began like any other. Will Corporon awoke to the noisy bustle of his life, five children and loving wife. He headed out, a normal day in the life of a hardworking American father.
Until the day’s news reared with an offending slap.
Dylann S. Roof was convicted on 33 federal hate crime-related charges for the execution slaughter of nine African-Americans as they prayed in a historically significant South Carolina church.
Corporon sent me a text shortly after he heard the news: “Hey, Mary, how come there is a federal hate crimes trial for Dylann Roof but not our idiot?”
Our idiot is known to the Kansas Department of Corrections as F. Glenn Miller Jr. He drove to the Kansas City area from southern Missouri in 2014 intent to murder Jews. He shot and killed Corporon’s father and his 14-year-old nephew, and then turned his shotgun on the beloved wife and mother of another family who had ventured out that rainy afternoon to visit her mother in a nursing home. All were Christian.
Don’t know the names of the victims? Specifics of the case don’t resonate? That’s part of what makes Corporon upset, and with good reason.
In America, deranged people can kill with a wide range of hatreds and receive far differing reactions from the national media, the general public and seemingly even from the forces of justice.
And so 24/7 news coverage of Roof agitated Corporon, who lives in Arkansas.
The most recent federal data on hate crimes detail more than 7,000 people targeted in 2015. Hate crimes targeting the victim’s real or perceived race/ethnicity/ancestry were the most prevalent, accounting for 59 percent of the incidents. Next was religious bias at nearly 20 percent, followed by sexual orientation at almost 18 percent.
So the despicable actions of both Roof and Miller fit the leading patterns of hate crimes.
There are explanations for the lack of hate crime charges in the Kansas murders. Corporon accepts them, to a point.
“We did get justice,” he said. “But to me, it’s more about a message that the U.S. government stands up and says, ‘This is a hate crime and we aren’t going to tolerate it.’ “
A decision was made between the district attorney and the then-U.S. attorney for Kansas, Barry Grissom. The goal was to get the case to trial quickly. Federal action would take longer.
Miller was convicted of capital murder and sentenced to death. Asthmatic and feeble, he will die in prison.
Officials didn’t want to put the community and the families through another trial to reach the same result.
More than 50 years of age separate Roof and Miller. But they are largely the same type of person.
Both dwell on concocted versions of racial strife. Roof wanted to start a race war, inspired by online reports of nonexistent murder sprees by black people targeting whites. Miller, a longtime white supremacist, was obsessed by the belief that immigrants, Jewish people and minorities are pitted against white people.
Yet both crimes also engendered tremendous acts of kindness from people moved by the violence, strangers who were deeply offended by the hatred. Maybe, it will be at that level that these hateful acts will be overcome.