In 1998, the horrific murders of Matthew Shepard -- a gay man living in Laramie, Wyoming -- and James Byrd Jr. -- an African American man dragged to his death in Jasper, Texas -- provoked a passionate public outrage. The intense media coverage of the murders made moments of violence based in racism and homophobia highly visible and which eventually led to the passage of The Matthew Shepard and James Byrd Jr. Hate Crimes Prevention Act in 2009. The role the media played in cultivating, shaping, and directing the collective emotional response toward these crimes is the subject of this gripping new book by Jennifer Petersen. Tracing the emotional exchange from news stories to the creation of law, Petersen calls for an approach to media and democratic politics that takes into account the role of affect in the political and legal life of the nation.

Photography is a ubiquitous part of the public sphere. Yet we rarely stop to think about the important role that photography plays in helping to define what and who constitute the public. Photography and Its Publics brings together leading experts and emerging thinkers to consider the special role of photography in shaping how the public is addressed, seen and represented.This book responds to a growing body of recent scholarship and flourishing interest in photography's connections to the law, society, culture, politics, social change, the media and visual ethics.Photography and Its Publics presents the public sphere as a vibrant setting where these realms are produced, contested and entwined. Public spheres involve yet exceed the limits of families, interest groups, identities and communities. They are dynamic realms of visibility, discussion, reflection and possible conflict among strangers of different race, age, gender, social and economic status. Through studies of photography in South America, North America, Europe and Australasia, the contributors consider how photography has changed the way we understand and locate the public sphere. As they address key themes including the referential and imaginative qualities of photography, the transnational circulation of photographs, online publics, social change, violence, conflict and the ethics of spectatorship, the authors provide new insight into photography's vital role in defining public life.

This volume identifies some of the remaining gaps in extant theories of systemic racism, and in doing so, illuminates paths forward. The contributors explore topics such as the enduring hyper-criminalization of blackness, the application of the white racial frame, and important counter-frames developed by people of color. They also assess how African Americans and other Americans of color understand the challenges they face in white-dominated environments. Additionally, the book includes analyses of digitally constructed blackness on social media as well as case studies of systemic racism within and beyond U.S. borders. This research is presented in honor of Kimberley Ducey’s and Ruth Thompson-Miller’s teacher, mentor, and friend: Joe R. Feagin.

This book examines the representation and misrepresentation of queer people in true crime, addressing their status as both victims and perpetrators in actual crime, as well as how the media portrays them. The chapters apply an intersectional perspective in examining criminal cases involving LGBTQ people, as well as the true crime media content surrounding the cases. The book illuminates how sexual orientation, gender, race, and other social locations impact the treatment of queer people in the criminal legal system and the mass media. Each chapter describes one or more high-profile criminal cases involving queer people (e.g., the murders of Brandon Teena and Kitty Genovese; serial killer Aileen Wuornos; the Pulse nightclub mass shooting). The authors examine how the cases are portrayed in the media via news, films, podcasts, documentaries, books, social media, and more. Each chapter discusses not only what is visible or emphasized by the media but also what is invisible in the accounting or societal focus surrounding the case. Lesser-known (but similar) cases are used in the book to call attention to how race, gender, sexuality, sexual orientation, social class, and/or other features influence the dominant narrative surrounding these cases. Each chapter addresses "teachable moments" from each case and its coverage, leaving readers with several considerations to take with them into the future. The book also provides media resources and supplemental materials so that curious readers, including scholars, students, content creators, and advocates, can examine the cases and media content further. The book will appeal to scholars and students of criminology, psychology, sociology, law, media studies, sexuality studies, and cultural studies, and people with an interest in true crime.

On October 14, 1998, five thousand people gathered on the steps of the U.S. Capitol to mourn the death of Matthew Shepard, a gay college student who had been murdered in Wyoming eight days earlier. Politicians and celebrities addressed the crowd and the televised national audience to share their grief with the country. Never before had a gay citizen's murder elicited such widespread outrage or concern from straight Americans. In Dying to Be Normal, Brett Krutzsch argues that gay activists memorialized people like Shepard as part of a political strategy to present gays as similar to the country's dominant class of white, straight Christians. Through an examination of publicly mourned gay deaths, Krutzsch counters the common perception that LGBT politics and religion have been oppositional and reveals how gay activists used religion to bolster the argument that gays are essentially the same as straights, and therefore deserving of equal rights. Krutzsch's analysis turns to the memorialization of Shepard, Harvey Milk, Tyler Clementi, Brandon Teena, and F. C. Martinez, to campaigns like the It Gets Better Project, and national tragedies like the Pulse nightclub shooting to illustrate how activists used prominent deaths to win acceptance, influence political debates over LGBT rights, and encourage assimilation. Throughout, Krutzsch shows how, in the fight for greater social inclusion, activists relied on Christian values and rhetoric to portray gays as upstanding Americans. As Krutzsch demonstrates, gay activists regularly reinforced a white Protestant vision of acceptable American citizenship that often excluded people of color, gender-variant individuals, non-Christians, and those who did not adhere to Protestant Christianity's sexual standards. The first book to detail how martyrdom has influenced national debates over LGBT rights, Dying to Be Normal establishes how religion has shaped gay assimilation in the United States and the mainstreaming of particular gays as "normal" Americans.

What happens when cultural memory becomes a commodity? Who owns the memory? In The Memory Marketplace, Emilie Pine explores how memory is performed both in Ireland and abroad by considering the significant body of contemporary Irish theatre that contends with its own culture and history. Analyzing examples from this realm of theatre, Pine focuses on the idea of witnesses, both as performers on stage and as members of the audience. Whose memories are observed in these transactions, and how and why do performances prioritize some memories over others? What does it mean to create, rehearse, perform, and purchase the theatricalization of memory? The Memory Marketplace shows this transaction to be particularly fraught in the theatricalization of traumatic moments of cultural upheaval, such as the child sexual abuse scandal in Ireland. In these performances, the role of empathy becomes key within the marketplace dynamic, and Pine argues that this empathy shapes the kinds of witnesses created. The complexities and nuances of this exchange—subject and witness, spectator and performer, consumer and commodified—provide a deeper understanding of the crucial role theatre plays in shaping public understanding of trauma, memory, and history.

Grassroots America supports LBGTQ rights even when leaders do not