Empire strikes back
Gay activists and advocates for the homeless protest the city's attempts to rid
downtown of its 'undesirables'
by David Andrew Stoler
Like any city, downtown Providence has its share of problems. Walk around the
Empire Street area at night, and among the flourishing arts complexes and
coffee bars of Trinity Rep and AS220, the frayed edges of the shadier side of
Providence come into view. Outside the strip clubs and adult bookstores here,
scores of people hang out on the street in the sickly yellow light of downtown.
Some are homeless, some are street kids, some are drug addicts. Loitering,
officially, but what's loitering when you don't have anywhere else to go?
Others are up to less benignly solitary behavior. Empire Street is known as
one of the city's cruising spots, and every so often a car passes by a bit too
slowly, a bit too often. The hustlers know the cue -- after establishing eye
contact, they lean into the car window. Then they walk around the corner to a
quieter street, one not directly in front of the Providence Police
headquarters, to finish their business.
Coincident with Mayor Vincent "Buddy" Cianci's much lauded downcity
redevelopment plans, activists working downtown allege that the police have
begun an aggressive cleanup campaign in the area of Empire and Washington
streets -- an area that has been a city center for cruising bars, purveyors of
pornography, and other establishments high in the smut factor. The cleanup,
activists say, is focused on pushing the "unwanted" elements of urban life out
of downtown -- and out of the way of Cianci's pristine vision of the city's
arts and entertainment scene.
Adrienne Marchetti, assistant director of Amos House, a South Side homeless
and battered women's shelter, says that the reasons behind the new pressure are
clear. "We all know what they're trying to do down there. They're trying to
make it a tourist draw, bring tourists downtown. And if you hide [problems with
the homeless and with prostitution], people don't know about it," she says.
But far from improving the situation, this pushing has made it harder for
activists trying to get those in need off the streets -- activists like AIDS
Care Ocean State outreacher Hugh Minor IV, who goes downtown two or three times
a week to distribute food, clothing, medical advice and counseling. "[The
police are] pushing the people away or arresting them, and not offering them
any services. They're just treating a symptom of the problem," Minor says.
Worse, say some gay activists, the police may be targeting and entrapping gay
men -- using beefcake undercover agents to initiate sex-for-money transactions
and then interpreting arrestee's responses as solicitation. Many of these men
weren't doing anything wrong at the time, say the activists, but were simply
downtown to visit an area that includes gay bars and other parts of the
alternative lifestyle's social scene.
Unfortunately, this is not the first time the Providence Police Department has
been accused of entrapment -- of using loosely worded solicitation laws to
unfairly arrest gay men, falsifying the reports of those arrests, and taking
advantage of people who are either too embarrassed to fight solicitation
charges or who have no way to speak out against unfair tactics by the police.
But that all changed in July, when the police arrested Rodney P. Davis for
solicitation of prostitution. Davis, a well-respected former president of the
Alliance for Lesbian and Gay Civil Rights, says he was set-up. And he brought
the debate public when he successfully fought the police charges.
Today, Davis's willingness to talk about the incident has raised the questions
of whether the mayor's lauded renaissance plans for downtown might not have
some unseen victims, and whether the police, in an effort to "clean up"
downtown, have yet again taken to targeting gay men.
The Providence plan
The Packard building, on the corner of Empire and Washington streets in
downtown Providence, is historic not simply because it is old but because,
really, the place has history. Once a showroom for the now-defunct automobile
maker, the Packard was also the home to numerous bars (some of them known
centers of prostitution), plus the Foxy Lady and an adult bookstore. What's
more, the Packard is right in the middle of the downtown arts scene -- it sits
across the street from Trinity Rep and a few blocks from both the Convention
and Civic centers.
Given its location, then, when the city announced plans to claim the site by
eminent domain, renovate it, and turn it into an upscale restaurant in the
Alforno mould, it seemed like just another logical progression in the area's
redevelopment. But there is more than a little concern that the downtown
cleanup plan may have a dark side to all its glitz and glitter.
Community advocates and activists, for instance, note that police have been
putting more pressure on their constituents downtown. Marion Avarista, the
president of Traveler's Aid, a nonprofit advocacy group for the homeless and
people in transition, says that the police "are constantly trying to move our
people around. With the new construction, they're trying to clean up the
area."
But when asked about these charges, the city's response has been muddled.
Cianci, for one, says that the increase in police presence has been unilateral
throughout Providence. "What people are seeing is that there are more police
officers in general. They have been increased all over the city," he says.
But Captain John Ryan, spokesman for the police department, denies that there
has been either a shift of focus or an increase in pressure. "There have been
arrests, but no more than usual. We have the same amount of resources devoted
to that as we always do," he says. Ryan also points out that the police go
anywhere that people complain of a prostitution problem.
Activists, however, disagree, and say that what's happening is obvious. The
police are specifically targeting downtown, shifting hustler action to the Amos
House neighborhood, says Marchetti. But then, when she and her neighbors
complain, nothing gets done. "Police are unresponsive to us. In South
Providence, we have tremendous prostitution and loitering issues, but it takes
forever to get the police out here," she says.
Jim Radford, a member of AIDS Care Ocean State, contends that not only is
there a larger police presence downtown but that this presence is adversely
impacting important work that his group is trying to do with male hustlers in
the area. "People disappear, people we've been dealing with all summer are gone
now. They're just gone, and we can't keep access to them," he says.
What irks gay activists even more, though, is that it seems like the police
are "cleaning up" specifically gay areas, that homosexuals seem to be bearing
the brunt of the pressure from police. Empire Street, for example, is a known
gay cruising spot, and there are several gay bars in the area.
Kate Monteiro, current president of the Alliance for Lesbian and Gay Civil
Rights, says that her group does "not believe that it is a coincidence that
this is going on near bars that target gay men. [The police are] unfairly
targeting men who are presumed to be gay."
River Road redux
Of course, this is not the first time the Providence Police Department
has come under fire for possibly discriminating against gays. In 1995 there
were reports that police had intensified their presence at another gay cruising
spot, the East Side's River Road. After a series of complaints about possible
entrapment of gay men (critics charged that undercover police would pose as
hunky gay men, approach and solicit men who they thought were predisposed to
prostitution, then arrest them for solicitation), the American Civil Liberties
Union of Rhode Island (ACLU) and the Gay & Lesbian Advocates &
Defenders (GLAD) demanded to see arrest reports from River Road. Although those
reports were supposed to be public property, the police refused to comply, so
the ACLU and GLAD filed an open-records lawsuit against the police department
that has yet to be resolved.
Since then, though, Cianci has taken steps to improve communication between
the gay community and the city. He is one of the few mayors in the country, for
instance, to appoint a gay and lesbian liaison, Fitzgerald Himmelsbach. "I am
one of the strongest supporters of the gay community -- I was at the [gay]
Pride parade when no one else was out there. I'm the only mayor in the area to
chair the gay Alliance, to appoint a liaison between the mayor's office and the
gay community. I even flew the gay flag over city hall," says Cianci.
Himmelsbach, too, says he has been working hard to educate the police against
stereotyping, "making sure they don't go for entrapment, are not trying to make
up solicitation from a vehicle."
But activists say these efforts haven't been very effective. Radford, for
example, contends that the police prejudice is clear. "There's no question that
they are targeting our target group. The perception is different between female
and male hustling -- they get different treatment. The corner [of Empire and
Washington] is a big gay hustling spot, right around the police station, and
usually July and August are quiet months," he says. But this year, Radford
suggests, the pressure has moved from River Road to Empire Street. "Police have
been busting [gay men] pretty quickly," he says.
Cianci, though, adamantly denies this. "That's not true. That's bullshit," he
says.
Indecent acts
At the heart of the issue are Rhode Island's laws concerning
solicitation, loitering, and prostitution -- laws that are incredibly vague.
The law against "loitering for indecent purposes," for example, says, "It shall
be unlawful for any person to stand or wander in or near any public highway or
street...and attempt to engage passersby in conversation . . . for the purpose
of prostitution or other indecent act[s] . . . . "
So what does "indecent act" mean? Jennifer Levi, staff attorney for GLAD, says
that the term "is not more clearly articulated anywhere else" in Rhode Island
law books. In other words, it is up to the police to decide what an indecent
act is, and the police have been accused of using loose interpretations of the
statutes to make arrests, of entrapping men by either offering them sex for
money or by interpreting simple pickup talk as solicitation.
Davis, the former president of the Alliance, contends that he was entrapped by
a police sting when Providence officers arrested him for soliciting for
prostitution this summer. He says that he was on his way home one night when he
noticed strange activity on the corner of Empire and Westminster. As an AIDS
activist, Davis knew that what he saw on the corner was not typical of hustler
behavior -- the hustler "looked too good, dressed too well." So he stopped to
see what was going on.
After a brief exchange with the hustler, during which Davis identified himself
and his activist work, he says he confronted the man. "I said, `You are just
too cute. That's why I've been driving around. Are you a cop?' "
The hustler said "no," then added that "he was cheap and that for $20 he would
give [Davis] a blow job." At that point, Davis said he had to leave and drove
around the city a few more times. Soon after, he was approached by undercover
officers and arrested.
The police report tells a different story, however, one that bears a striking
resemblance (including the prices for sex) to those told in the reports of
controversial arrests made on River Road. The report says that when an
undercover officer approached Davis's car, Davis asked how much he charged for
oral sex. When the officer said $20, Davis allegedly agreed to the price and
was arrested.
The disagreement as to who took how much of the first step is the kernel of
the issue. ACLU director Steve Brown says that "[the] police can take too much
of the initiative in drawing people into their web."
What's more, Monteiro says, the police operate on stereotypes about gay men
and, as a result, are too ready to interpret a gay man's responses as
solicitation. "The police are making assumptions on characteristics about
individuals -- where they are, how they look, that they are gay -- and then
[those individuals] are targeted and essentially entrapped. [The police] think
that gay men are always looking for sex and then they question them and read an
awful lot into their answers," Monteiro says.
On River Road, police were thought to arrest people based on stereotypes and
without evidence, counting on the fact that most of those charged would be too
embarrassed to fight the allegations in court. Instead, the police hoped, the
alleged perpetrators would simply pay their fine and not come back. If a
perpetrator did fight the charges, they were often dropped. And Davis's case,
too, was recently dismissed.
Himmelsbach admits, "There are some underlying issues, officers who are doing
what they shouldn't be," but he contends that steps are being made to improve
the situation.
City officials, meanwhile, seem to be rolling over anyone who doesn't fit into
their image of what downtown should be -- the police are out, arresting people
for loitering when they don't have anywhere else to go, coming down hard on
hustlers and possibly entrapping gay men.
The perception, too, is that the police aren't doing enough to improve their
anti-gay reputation. Says Davis, the police "have had an aggressive policy
toward the gay community. There haven't been friendly overtures." So if the
Providence Police Department wants to shake a rap that they just can't get away
from -- that they target and entrap gays, that they want them out of the city
-- perhaps these overtures are long overdue.