Steven Petrow

Opinion columnist

It wasn’t an easy decision, Judy and Dennis Shepard told me, but they went ahead and did it anyway. They delivered a message of truth to power — in this case to the Trump administration at the Department of Justice.

The Shepards, whose gay son Matthew was brutally murdered in 1998 because of his sexual orientation, were invited by Attorney General William Barr to give remarks at the department’s ceremony last week marking the 10th anniversary of the federal Hate Crimes Prevention Act. Named in memory of their son and James Byrd Jr., a black man murdered by white supremacists in 1998, it expanded the definition of a hate crime to include acts motivated by a victim’s actual or perceived gender, sexual orientation, gender identity or disability.

Unable to attend because of a travel conflict, the Shepards sent a powerful speech to be read on their behalf. “We find it interesting and hypocritical that (Barr) would invite us to this event commemorating a hate crime law named after our son and Mr. Byrd, while at the same time asking the Supreme Court to allow the legalized firing of transgender employees,” they said in their prepared remarks.

'Personally challenging' to speak out

Matthew Shepard’s parents, exhibiting what President John F. Kennedy once described as "that most admirable of human virtues — courage,” forcefully noted the Trump administration’s abject failure to protect the rights and lives of transgender people. Only recently, Barr’s department had argued before the Supreme Court in favor of allowing gay and transgender individuals to be fired from their jobs because of who they are. Currently, LGBT people can be fired in 17 states simply because of their sexual orientation or gender identity.

Dennis Shepard, in an exclusive interview, told me why their decision to speak out was “personally challenging.” He understood that “it would be nothing more than a photo op for Barr … and, ultimately, the administration” to falsely claim their support of the LGBTQ community and other marginalized communities covered by the hate crimes law, even as they do all they can to take away their equal rights.

But in their struggle to decide what to do, Shepard explained, “the larger message is clear. If American citizens do not speak out loud and clear, and object about the obliteration of their civil rights and equal rights, those rights will disappear quickly.”

And that is the challenge today as the Trump administration hammers away at the rights and protections of the marginalized and disenfranchised in this country. When do we speak out? How do we speak out?

Truth to power in 1950

Both questions are embedded in the 1946 prose poem (now a popular meme), “First they came …” by Martin Niemoller, a German Lutheran pastor, who wrote about the cowardice of German intellectuals and clergy to speak against the Nazis' rise to power and their incremental targeting of different groups:

"First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out — because I was not a socialist.

"Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out — because I was not a trade unionist.

"Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out — because I was not a Jew.

"Then they came for me — and there was no one left to speak for me."

The Shepards’ story recalls another courageous American, Margaret Chase Smith, who also spoke truth to power. In 1950, the first-term senator from Maine challenged her fellow Republican senator, Joseph McCarthy, who had falsely claimed to possess the names of 205 card-carrying communists in the State Department.

Smith initially hesitated to take on McCarthy. “In those days,” she later explained, “freshman senators were to be seen and not heard.” She hoped a senior member would take the lead. But no one stepped up and after much consideration, Smith delivered the speech, “A Declaration of Conscience,” for which she’s now celebrated.

Civil dissent is crucial to democracy

“Freedom of speech is not what it used to be in America,” Smith stated. “It has been so abused by some that it is not exercised by others.” Finally in 1954, the full Senate concurred with the “lady from Maine” and censured McCarthy for conduct “contrary to senatorial traditions.” McCarthy’s career lay in ruins. Smith is lionized for her courage.

In a nation that exalts freedom of speech and dissent, the type of courage displayed by the Shepards remains rare and yet crucial to democracy. In Kennedy’s Pulitzer-prize winning book, “Profiles in Courage,” he reminded us: “A man does what he must — in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures — and that is the basis of all human morality.”

The Shepards and Smith shared one other fundamental value, civility.

“It was important that we project calmness and indignation in a civilized and respectful manner, unlike that projected by members of the current administration,” Dennis Shepard told me.

Smith, meanwhile, never personally attacked McCarthy. She denounced his policies and tactics, which became known as “McCarthyism.”

To paraphrase former first lady Michelle Obama, they went high when others went low.

Steven Petrow, a writer on civility and manners and a member of USA TODAY's Board of Contributors, is the author of five etiquette books. Follow him on Twitter: @StevenPetrow