As appeared in The Advocate
NEWARK, CALIF. –Sylvia Guerrero knew that her 17-year-old biological son, Eddie “Gwen” Araujo, was more comfortable being a beautiful young woman.
But she feared Newark, Calif., their sleepy suburban community of 43,000, wasn’t ready for her transgender son – despite its proximity to liberal bastions in San Francisco and Newark’s own proclamations of tolerance.
Sadly, Guerrero was right. In October, Araujo – wearing her mother’s skirt and meticulously applied make-up - was brutally murdered after three young men discovered she was biologically a he. “I was always afraid that something awful might happen to Eddie. No mother should have to bury their child,” says Guerrero.
Now the family and the town is faced with a difficult task of making sense of Araujo’s short life and bringing change to a community that thought it was already there.
Already the community is hoping Guerrero and the family will inspire, if not command, change in the way this town accepts individuals. So far she’s been reluctant.
Instead her immediate concern is bringing the perpetrators to justice. Police suspect three young men – Michael Magidson, 22 of nearby Fremont, and Jason Nabors, 19, and Jose Merel, 24 both of Newark – committed the murder.
According to police reports, Araujo attended a party on October 3 and had sex with the suspects. It wasn’t until later after discovering that the Araujo was biologically a male, the three strangled her and then buried her body 100 miles away in the Sierra Foothills.
“No matter what happened, he didn’t deserve to be murdered,” says Guerrero. “Everyone is focusing on his lifestyle and not the murder.”
“It’s horrible what happened, no one really thought it could happen here. I thought we lived in a place that everyone accepted everyone. I guess I was wrong,” says 17-year-old Steven Mathisen a friend and former Newark Memorial High School classmate. But Newark wasn’t always welcoming: Araujo left Newark Memorial because of unending harassment and enrolled in a nearby “alternative” school, although friends say she rarely attended. “We knew he got picked on by some kids, but we never thought it would become violent.”
Araujo’s close friend Stephanie Bauman, 17, knows what the world has lost. “She had a beautiful smile and a love for everyone. Much like the butterflies she adored, she was beautiful and gracious. She put a smile on everyone’s face that knew her.”
Many of Araujo’s friends are grasping for something good to come out of the murder. Their first effort: bring school harassment to an end. “I can’t stand that this has happened, we need to make people understand that it’s okay that people are different,” says 15-year-old Leslie Enciso a friend and former classmate.
To start, many are focusing on the Newark Memorial High School production of the Laramie Project which was in production before Araujo’s death. Student Rita Gonzalez, 13, says “every Newark citizen needs to come see just what kind of impact her death will have on us.”
“The community is barely holding on,” says Barbara Williams, the school drama teacher and director of the Laramie Project. “The play could be called the ‘Newark Project.’ During rehearsal it takes every ounce of energy to get through it. The students’ emotions are raw and they are numb.”
“This should hurt every mother as if it was their own,” says Belinda Drinkers-Laureta, the local chapter president of PFLAG, who wants the community to mobilize. “Schools need to be the starting place for educating about tolerance and our community has been slow. We can’t let the school districts silence gay harassments like they have been.”
“I could see the pain in his eyes. People were really mean to him at school. He never had a chance at an education. He really tried, but no one accepted him,” adds Guerrero. Many friends witnessed the harassment, but say complaints to school officials often fell on deaf ears.
Araujo had long dreamed of becoming a make-up artist, but was turned away. Her mother says no one was willing to give her a job. Friends say the torments and rejection were taking its toll. Eventually, the teenager felt isolated and depressed and, ultimately began to abuse alcohol and drugs.
Some transgender activists hope the family becomes vocal with a message of tolerance and acceptance, hoping to stem abuse. “There is certainly a place for Sylvia to push for change,” says Dana Rivers a transgender activist who visited with friends and family at Araujo’s funeral. “This is really a wake up call for people to understand that transgenders need to be better understood and accepted. Right now it’s not safe for many of us.”
But Araujo’s mother isn’t ready to discuss Araujo’s lifestyle; instead she wants the community to focus on the murder. “It’s not a lesbian; it’s not a gay thing. It was his life and life was hard for him. This is about Eddie being murdered,” says Guerrero.
But what also troubles friends and relatives is no one stopped the murder. “Eddie was at a large party, taken to the garage, beaten and then strangled. No one heard? No one helped?,” says Crystal Mason, 17, who also knew Araujo. Police say about a dozen teenagers and young adults attended the party at suspect Merel’s home. Police were no strangers to the household – frequently summoned by neighbors for their raucous parties.
But, October 3 was a comparatively quiet night.
Partygoers aren’t publicly talking, but for two weeks, hushed accounts of Araujo’s death circulated around school before police were finally tipped.
“All those people who didn’t say anything are guilty by association,” says Araujo’s Uncle David Guerrero.
“We have a lot of work to do in this country. People thought this kind of stuff doesn’t happen in the Bay Area – well it did and if it can happen here - it can happen anywhere,” says Steve Boconegrn a 21-year-old gay man who attended a vigil honoring Araujo in Fremont.
So where will the change start? Guerrero has an idea: “Kids need to learn compassion.” And PFLAG’s Dronkers-Laureta hopes to help Guerrero bring about change within the school district, starting with sensitivity training for administration, teachers and students.
And the nation will be watching as the community struggles to address what went wrong.
“This is the transgender community’s Matthew Shepard,” says spokeswoman Cathy Renna of GLAAD who is helping friends and family deal with the onslaught of media. “There is going to be a lot of attention on how this community reacts to her death.”
As friends and the family grieve, they hope to find meaning in her death. “She was a brave soul for coming out so young. People really loved her and will really miss her smile. I just hope no one forgets what happened here,” says friend Agustin Covarrubias, 15.
“People shouldn’t see color, shouldn’t see race, shouldn’t see a lifestyle they should see what’s on the inside,” says Guerrero. “I hope people will learn something from this.”
To honor her son, Guerrero buried her child in a dark dress, perfectly applied makeup, with a hint of glitter. “Just as Gwen would have wanted it,” says Guerrero.
