BLOGTOWN

Venus Hayes, speaking to reporters shortly after her son's death in 2017. DOUG BROWN

Attorneys with the City of Portland believe it's more plausible to argue that 17-year-old Quanice Hayes died on February 9, 2017 because he burglarized a house and lied to police officers about it—not because a Portland cop shot him three times with a AR-15 rifle.

On Wednesday, US District Court Judge John Acosta pushed city attorneys to explain why Hayes' death "was the sole and exclusive fault of Mr. Hayes," an argument that attorneys representing Hayes' family in a civil rights lawsuit want to throw out.

"Under their logic, officers have the right to use deadly force against anyone simply because they were engaged in felonies," said Jesse Merrithew, one of the attorneys representing the Hayes family. "That's ludicrous."

Hayes was killed by Portland officer Andrew Hearst after being cornered by a group of officers in an alcove outside of a Northeast Portland house. At the time, Hayes was a suspect in an attempted carjacking and armed robbery—accusations that haven't been contested by his family. After officers tracked him down, Hayes followed their orders to crawl on the ground out of the alcove, towards Hearst. But when Hayes reached down to his waistband, Hearst fired his rifle, hitting Hayes in the head and torso.

Nikki Kuhnhausen was 17 when she was murdered last year, in what police officers believe was an act of anti-trans violence. A law outlawing the LGBTQ+ panic defense in Washington is named after her. blair Stenvick

Titled the Nikki Kuhnhausen Act, the bill outlaws the use of the LGBTQ+ panic defense. Also known as the gay-panic or trans-panic defense, this is a legal strategy arguing that uses of force against an LGBTQ+ person are sometimes justified. The shock of learning about that identity, the panic defense argues, could temporarily diminish someone's capacity to act reasonably, or cause them to fear they are at risk of sexual assault from the LGBTQ+ person.

"A defendant does not suffer from diminished capacity based on the discovery of, knowledge about, or potential disclosure of the victim's actual or perceived gender, gender identity, gender expression, or sexual orientation," the bill reads in part.

The bill is named after a 17-year-old trans woman who was murdered in Vancouver, Washington last year in what police believe was an act of anti-trans violence. From the Mercury's recent reporting about Kunhausen's life and legacy:

PCUN director Reyna Lopez speaks at a rally in Salem protesting the latest Republican walkout. Image courtesy of PCUN.

The fight is over Senate Bill 1530, which would establish a cap-and-trade policy for Oregon’s private industries. Under a cap-and-trade framework, the state government places a limit on how much carbon large corporations can emit into the atmosphere each year. The framework also establishes a marketplace of credits, or “allowances,” that companies can purchase in order to emit more carbon than their designated limit.

Like previous attempts to pass cap-and-trade in Oregon, SB 1530 has faced strong opposition from Republican lawmakers who say the policy would drive up gas prices and hurt critical state industries, including the timber business. So Republican senators, concerned the bill would pass if it reaches a floor vote, held a walk-out this week—denying Democratic leadership a quorum, meaning state senators cannot vote on 1530 or any other bill.

For Reyna Lopez, who is part of the Renew Oregon political coalition that supports and helped shape the cap-and-trade policy, the Republican walkout is like “a spit in the face.”

Lopez is the director of Pineros y Campesinos Unidos del Noroeste (PCUN), a union that represents Oregon farmworkers, primarily Latinx farmers in Marion County. She and other cap-and-trade proponents spent the months leading up to this year’s legislative session working with politicians to make sure SB 1530 would be palatable enough for Republicans that they wouldn’t abandon the capitol. Last year’s cap-and-trade bill, House Bill 2020, was also derailed by a walkout.

“We made a lot of sacrifices, and we actually came to the table in good faith,” Lopez told the Mercury. “We’re highly encouraging the Democrats to not make any backroom deals with these people… We don’t think we need any more input from the GOP.”

PCCEP's first meeting in November 2018. Alex Zielinski

But it's not that simple, as US District Judge Michael Simon decided at a Tuesday court hearing on the status of the agreement, which has been snaking through the federal court system for eight years.

"It appears to me that there is a serious disagreement in whether or not there is substantial compliance with the settlement agreement," Simon said at the start of the hearing.

In 2012, the DOJ sued Portland, arguing the city had violated the United States Constitution by allowing its police officers to engage in "a pattern or practice of using excessive force" against people with a mental illness. To resolve this litigation, the City of Portland entered a settlement agreement with the DOJ in 2014, in which the city promised to create a walk-in emergency mental health medical center, form a behavioral health unit within the Portland Police Bureau (PPB), accelerate the process of investigating complaints of officer misconduct, expand mental health training for police officers, allow quarterly use-of-force audits within the PPB, and improve community outreach.

On January 10, the DOJ announced that the city has successfully met all the requirements laid out in the 2014 settlement (or, in legal terms, was in "substantial compliance" with the agreement). On Tuesday, Simon was expected to hear the DOJ's arguments and decide whether he, too, believed the city has met all of the DOJ's requirements.

But vocal opposition to the DOJ's ruling by Portland community leaders instead encouraged Simon to delay his decision for another year.