Sacramento has
long been considered a tolerant city, but a gay man’s
violent death has exposed the wide divide between LGBT
residents and the area’s Slavic evangelical
Christians.
Clayton Pettus
used to spend Sunday afternoons with his coworker and
friend. The pair would people-watch from the second floor of
the Sacramento gay bar Badlands, where they could look
down and take in the dancing crowd below them. That
setup might seem tailor-made for two gay guys to dish,
but Pettus says Singh never talked smack about anyone.
“He was
such a good guy,” Pettus says. “He never had a
negative thing to say.”
Pettus remembers
Singh as being very closeted when they first met, even
telling people he was bisexual. But as he became more
comfortable with his surroundings, Pettus says,
“I really got to see him blossom.”
A few years ago,
Pettus says, Singh showed up at a local pride
celebration with his dog, whom he’d costumed for the
occasion. Pettus remarked that the dog looked like
Paris Hilton, and Singh embraced the idea. “He
absolutely owned it,” Pettus says.
“That’s what I loved most about
him—own what you are and work with it, rather than
work against it.”
On the first
Sunday in July, however, Singh didn’t go out with
Pettus. Instead he went with a different group of
friends to a picnic. Four days later he was dead.
When they learned
what had happened to Singh, Marghe Covino and Jerry
Sloan saw their worst fears coming true. Covino, a longtime
lesbian activist in Sacramento, and Sloan, a
Metropolitan Community Church minister who cofounded
the city’s LGBT Lambda Community Center, had been
warning people in the diverse and progressive state capital
that nearby evangelical churches were ratchetting up
their antigay rhetoric. Some area churches that serve
relatively new immigrants from former Soviet republics
had over the past couple of years organized a series of
increasingly hostile demonstrations to protest local LGBT
events, going so far as to threaten and spit on pride
festival revelers and gay political rally
participants.
“I told
people about what I was beginning to see,” Covino
says. “It hadn’t popped up on the radar
yet. Everybody said I was a Cassandra. Now everyone is
running for the hills. It’s typical of our community
-- we are reactive as opposed to proactive.”
What made people
react was what happened to Singh. While he was
picnicking with six straight friends at a local state park,
a group at a nearby table who were said to be speaking
Russian allegedly singled out Singh -- who like the
rest of his group was a Fijian of Indian descent --
and began hurling religious, racial, and antigay epithets.
The rhetoric escalated once the Russian speakers sent
home the women and children in their group and
summoned more men, who prevented Singh’s party from
leaving the park. According to local newspaper The
Sacramento Bee, county homicide investigators say
one of the men, Andrey Vusik, punched Singh, hitting
him so hard he fell down and smashed his head. Vusik
and his friends got away; an unconscious Singh was rushed
to the hospital.
As soon as Covino
heard about Singh, she went to the hospital, where his
friends and family were sitting vigil. When they filled her
in on some of the details, Covino made a connection:
“The use of some of the terms gave me the idea
that it was not just Slavic people but religious people,
because they were calling them
‘sodomites.’ ”
Though
he’d taken just one punch, major damage had been
done; Singh never regained consciousness and died four
days later after he was pronounced brain-dead and
removed from life support. He was 26. Vusik, charged with
involuntary manslaughter, is currently a fugitive from
justice and is thought to be in Russia; in mid October
a 21-year-old associate of Vusik’s, Aleksandr
Shevchenko, pleaded not guilty in Sacramento superior
court to hate-crime charges related to Singh’s death.
A preliminary hearing for Shevchenko is scheduled for
late November, the Bee reported.
Covino
wasn’t the only one keeping vigil who didn’t
know Singh personally. She and members of Asian and
Pacific Islander community groups, as well as area
Muslims and Sikhs, quickly formed the Satendar Justice
Coalition to ensure that city residents and law enforcement
officials recognize Singh’s death as a hate crime and
take measures to prevent further such tragedies. The
coalition also helped raise money to send
Singh’s body back to his parents in Fiji and organize
a memorial.
“We’ve been coasting along here,” Sloan
says, noting that LGBT people have long been
integrated politically and socially into larger Sacramento
life and that until recently, protesters at gay events had
been small, disorganized groups. That changed in 2006,
when hundreds of Slavic evangelicals showed up at
Queer Youth Advocacy Day, a lobbying initiative that
brings LGBT students to Sacramento to meet with state
legislators.
“Prior to
that, they would be lucky if they had 75 people at a
rally,” Sloan explains. “Now they get
[up to] 500 Russians down there. It’s
crazy.”
Click here to follow The Advocate on Twitter.
Page 1 of 3