IN THEIR OWN WORDS

City leaders of Northern California communities from Sacramento to Anderson, San Francisco to Newark, share lessons they've learned when faced with hate-motivated crime and violence in their towns.

LES BAUGH
Anderson Mayor

When an African-American resident of the Shasta County rural town of Anderson, California, woke one morning to find an 8-foot cross burning on her front lawn, local law enforcement and city officials feared the hateful and intimidating act would drive the resident out of town. Mayor Les Baugh, also an associate pastor at Crossroads Bible Fellowship in Anderson, was among the concerned local leaders who personally appealed to the victim and her family to stay, and helped organize a community march immediately following the attack. A few months later, the city took an additional step by creating new city-limit signs that say, "No Room for Racism, Hate or Violence." Mayor Baugh says the signs were meant to help keep tolerance and diversity a priority for Anderson during a time of rapid growth.

“ In our experience, the response is everything. After the cross burning, there was a shared thought process: 'We can't allow this to happen. We have to take action. We're either going to be united together, or we're going to be divided and fall apart as a community.' ... [The signs] help to keep us accountable, and it's a constant reminder to people as they come into the city that Anderson is a community where hate, violence and racism is not acceptable.

Anderson is a changing place. You see a lot of construction through town. But we want to accomplish that growth with the tenderness and consideration for people who live here. We are elected officials, which means we are servants of the community. So it's our job to take care of things like this -- to help discourage intolerant behavior, so it never happens again.”

JIMMIE YEE
Former Sacramento Mayor

In 1999, Sacramento suffered the worst anti-Semitic attacks in the city's history. Community members quickly mobilized to support the congregations of three firebombed synagogues. The city's African-American, Asian and Jewish communities had learned the lesson of acting quickly six years earlier, when another wave of hate crime swept over the city. In a string of attacks, the NAACP's Sacramento headquarters, Congregation B'nai Israel, the Sacramento Japanese American Citizens League and the home of Asian-American city council member Jimmie Yee were all the targets of firebombings.

“ If I knew they were going to firebomb my house, I don't think I would have ever run for office. I owe it to my wife and my family that their safety comes first, before any political participation. However, since the firebombing, I've felt a little different. It's one of these things that I've decided I can't let them intimidate me. That is another one of the reasons why, after this term, when it is up, I am thinking about running for one additional term -- to show them that I am not intimidated.”

Editor's Note: Eight months after the 1999 synagogue fires, Yee was elected to a third four-year city council term.

PAUL SEAVE
California Attorney General's Office, Sacramento

Drawing on more than two decades fighting crime, Paul Seave, a former federal prosecutor who is now special assistant attorney general for California in Sacramento, says close cooperation between law enforcement and the community is critical after hate attacks. Seave was in a unique position to understand both perspectives when the Sacramento synagogue where he worships, Congregation B'nai Israel, was attacked.

“ I don't want to say we were ready for it. You're never ready for anything like that, but all the law enforcement agencies here were used to working together on hate crime. So people knew who to call. People trusted each other. And the community in Sacramento responded very quickly to the fires. It was an overwhelming positive reaction.

Folks have just developed this sensitivity to the need to really take action. I mean, you just can't say, 'OK, there's a hate crime and, uh, the police will take care of it, and that's the end of it.' But what you can say, in an affirmative way by supporting people, by telling them they are not marginalized -- is that they are part of the community despite what the arsonists did. Everyone in Sacramento is really aware of the responsibility that, when there's hate crime, you respond. It's happened here too many times. And, you know, you learn from experience, and we've unfortunately had that experience here.”

MILANDA MOORE
San Francisco Police Inspector

Hate Crimes Inspector Milanda Moore helped build the case against a San Francisco Public Library book vandal who damaged more than 600 Lesbian-, Gay-, Bisexual- and Transgender-themed books before he was caught in 2001. Moore says hate-motivated speech and vandalism can pose serious dangers for civil society, and such acts shouldn't be taken lightly.

“ I always tell people that when you see the slightest thing that leads you to believe that someone has a hate bias, pay attention. Don't leave those things unchecked ... little things can build up into big things. If you see that someone is vandalizing library books, take the time to report it immediately. If you see someone outside writing on the side of the building, putting [up] swastikas, or someone talking about killing immigrants or something, take the time to call. Because it's that type of thing that leads other people; it may not even be that suspect, but it leads people to think that's OK. And in societies where such things are OK, that's where you start to see hate crimes flourish. And we don't want San Francisco to be one of those places.”

DAVID SMITH
Newark Mayor

After the brutal killing of local Transgender teen Gwen Araujo, the quiet suburban community of Newark, California, mourned the death of one of its young people, while also dealing with the shame that four other young residents were charged with the killing. As part of the community's healing, city staff engaged with and reached out to Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender community members, some of whom feared for their safety.

“ To my mayoral colleagues in other cities, I'd suggest that they form a working group like we did of key [city] staff personnel and key public safety personnel to work with their Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender communities. To engage them in dialogue, in open dialogue that encourages all parties to discuss issues of concern to them, and go forward and address those issues -- whether it's changes in your municipal code or training of your public employees.

The lesson that has stuck with me is how some of the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender community felt threatened in the community. And I, as the mayor, I don't want anybody to feel that way here. If you can't feel safe walking the streets of our town, then we have work to do. I think inclusion of this community is what is so important. You don't want an incident like Gwen Araujo's murder to trigger that type of involvement. Be proactive. Engage now.”

LANCE MORRISON
Newark Police Department

Police Captain Lance Morrison assisted in his department's investigation of the Gwen Araujo killing. But as a longtime Newark resident and graduate of Newark Memorial High School, where all four of Araujo's accused killers were enrolled, Morrison felt a personal duty to participate in efforts to address negative attitudes and institutional barriers affecting Gay, Lesbian and Transgender community members. Morrison is starting that effort in his own workplace.

“ With groups like PFLAG [Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays] and [the community group] Not in Newark, a dialogue was started, and things that wouldn't have happened before are [happening]. It does work like that. There's this kind of uncomfortable 'where do we go from here?' sense after a tragedy like this. ... And I think that's one of the most positive outcomes thus far, that we've been able to bring, for instance, PFLAG into the police department to provide training onsite. I don't think anyone saw that in the beginning.

I think when you're not sensitized, when you don't realize the struggles that people have gone through, then you may not realize what is at stake when someone does come down, for instance, to report a crime. You may not realize the anticipation on their end -- or their fear -- that they may not be taken seriously.”

Read a profile of a Northern California citizen group standing up to hate