
Shameca Davis displays the domestic partnership certificate she shared with Shanesha Conaway. (Photo by Juan Carlos Rodriguez)
Prevalence of anti-gay incidents alarm residents
Broward policy is regarded as most progressive in the state
Two fundraisers result in more than $30,000 benefiting gay charities
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By JUAN CARLOS RODRIGUEZ
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Keith Cartwright felt threatened by his ex-girlfriend Shameca Davis’s intimate relationship with a woman. He constantly cursed Davis’s new girlfriend, Shanesha Conaway, for being a butch lesbian.
He became irate when Davis and Conaway tattooed each others’ names on their arms. He fumed when the two women registered as domestic partners in the Broward County March 3. As the women deepened their relationship, Cartwright--the father of Davis’s two young boys--became increasingly jealous.
On March 11, Conaway and Davis reported to Fort Lauderdale police that Cartwright had slashed the tires of Conaway’s car. The women had previously complained to police that Cartwright had threatened them with a gun, Davis said.
But Davis said she never thought he would come through on his threats.
“He talked a lot, but we never thought he’d do it,” Davis said. “He’d run his mouth, but never did what he said he would.”
On April 27, Cartwright proved Davis wrong. He fatally shot Conaway, 22, in the parking lot of his apartment building during a heated argument before shooting Davis and pummeling her with his gun. According to witnesses, Conaway’s last words were “be a man to your sons.”
Police arrested Cartwright in Gainesville Friday afternoon. He is charged with murder and aggravated battery. But despite the reports of threats and harassment, police are not pursuing the case as a hate crime.
“It’s straight-up domestic violence,” said Det. Brice Brittenum, of Fort Lauderdale Police, who serves as the liaison between the department and the gay community.
The shooting brings light to the large numbers of gay, lesbian and transgender people of color who live in South Florida. Although the prevailing thought in the mainstream is that black gays and lesbians live largely underground, known as “on the down-low,” the crowds of people who lined up May 2 at the Roy Mizel and Kurtz funeral home on Sistrunk Boulevard defy the stereotype.
Hundreds of young gay black people showed up to pay respect to Conaway, who was affectionately known as “Bo-Legg” because of the way her legs curved outward at the knees. Conaway’s viewing and funeral was attended by the entire spectrum of the gay hip hop scene: dreadlocked butch girls in baggy Dickies, femme girls in tight dresses and hair weaves, immaculately dressed young gay men, and transgender teens.
Most, like Conaway, live out of closet and each remembered Conaway as a warm, friendly person who never caused drama and always embraced her sexuality.
“Bo-Legg never fucked with anybody,” said Nikki Lawson, 33 who knew Conaway since childhood. “She was a sweet person who believed in peace.”
Conaway worked as a security guard and she was working to be a truck driver. Her mother Alice Conaway said Bo-Legg had attained her professional CDL license last year and was pursuing work in trucking at the time she was killed.
Friends say Conaway got a lot of respect, despite her obstacles. She was known at Jay’s Bar in Fort Lauderdale and Cloud Nine Lounge in Davie as a regular patron who enjoyed hanging out and talking with everybody and tipping drag performers.
“Bo-Legg was a celebrity,” said Brandon Cave, a regular at Cloud Nine. “Everybody knew her.”
Debra “Teddy Bear” Wilson said she will save an empty seat out of respect for Conaway every time she goes to Jay’s Bar in Fort Lauderdale. On Saturday Teddy Bear sat in the back corner with an empty chair draped with a memorial t-shirt that marked Conaway’s life. It’s the same spot where she and Conaway held court on Friday and Saturday nights.
“She was more than a friend,” Teddy Bear says. “She was a sister.”
As DJ Big Daddy, Thomas Edmond has been presiding over the mostly black lesbian scene at Jay’s Bar since 1999. He says he’s seen most of the girls grow up in the scene and considers himself a motivational figure among the crowd. He keeps his party in order and is known to rail on newcomers who start fights and bring drama.
He said Conaway’s death hit a deep nerve on the scene.
“What it’s telling us is that we, as a race, have not faced homosexuality,” Edmond said. He said much of what happened had to do with the fact that Conaway was lesbian.
“If Bo-Legg was another man, they probably might have worked it out,” Edmond said. “But Bo-Legg being a butch woman made [Cartwright] feel like ‘hey, this bitch is making me feel like a punk.’”
Community leaders in the black community and gay community are all too aware of the rift that gay issues bring in the culture which has historically been led by the church.
“It’s a taboo subject,” explains LaRhonda Ware, vice president of the Broward NAACP. “You don’t talk about it in the black community. The church doesn’t accept it. They just don’t want to discuss it.”
But Conaway’s violent death just two months after the fatal shooting of Simmie Williams, a transgender teen, has brought a renewed emphasis on changing attitudes that give rise to hate in the community.
Local police agencies and phalanx of gay organizations discussed mobilizing to form community forums to tackle homophobic attitudes in the black community.
But for many of the young black GLBT people, living openly is a challenge they are willing to meet. Shameca Davis said living openly with her girlfriend just came naturally.
“When we were together it was never an issue,” Davis said. “I was in love – that’s all.”
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