There are many disturbing things about the death of JonBenét Ramsey. The manner, the circumstances, the endless speculation, the fact that she seems to have spent her childhood being paraded about for the sake of her mother’s ego, that there don’t appear to be many photos of the child in which her make up is not airbrushed on...and the obsession.

Attention on a crime is not a bad thing, even though it can be a mixed blessing for police. No six-year-old deserves to die, and those whose lives are cruelly taken deserve justice as expediently as possible.

Turning the murder of a child into a soap opera is another matter, however, especially when we do not lavish the same devotion on every murdered child.

People under 18 die every day. Have authors glutted the paperback market with all the sordid details of their deaths and the poignant stories of their truncated lives? (One on-line book retailer lists no fewer than seven titles devoted to the Ramsey slaying). Has the untimely death of each become fodder for major networks’ documdramas? (CBS is due to release one on the Ramsey murder soon, based on Lawrence Schiller’s Perfect Murder, Perfect Town, and the FOX network is planning a "one hour movie.")

Jenny Lin, 14, of Castro Valley, Calif., died young too — she was stabbed to death in her own home. The police worked closely on the case, which at last report was unsolved, so it is not the dedication of law enforcement that one should frown at. There is also a website dedicated to her case, and a foundation has been set up in her memory.

But, was this achieved through the efforts of a nation outraged at her cruel death, or through the persistence of her grieving family? Have you heard of Jenny Lin? Probably not, though maybe she got a few seconds of airtime initially. Was her father a millionaire? Although her family does not seem to be destitute, the answer, again, appears to be no.

Consider little Devan Duniver, of Pennsylvania. Winsome, blonde...dead. She was stabbed multiple times in her throat with a sharp instrument, and buried under storm debris near her home in 1998. It is possible that she, too, received some brief media coverage, but do you remember her?

The Bureau of Justice Statistics report that approximately 150 of every 1,000 Native Americans between 12 and 17 are the victims of violent crime each year. Where is the public outcry of horror? This same agency also indicates that the homicide rate for African Americans under the age of 5 was approximately 300 in 1995. What were their names?

Then there is our own James Eaton, viciously gunned down by a boy who himself testified that they were best friends. It is unlikely that we will ever forget this young man, but what about everyone else in the United States? Do they even know what happened to him that fateful April night?

How about Billie Jo Jenkins, age 13? One minute she was painting a fence at her foster family’s home; the next, she was dead. Oops — she was an British commoner, and because this is America, I guess she wasn’t important enough for CBS or Fox to expend resources on. Is there really no time to remember her, even though the American media would aggressively push JonBenét’s tragic visage all over the world?

Certainly, there are excuses for not remembering all victims equally. The best of them might be simple logistics: that it is impossible to exhaustively cover every single murder. But on the other hand, if we’ve got time for one, why don’t we have time for others? Are these children less deserving of our undivided attention? Or is the lack of regard based on an altogether more sinister reason, namely, the economic strata of the victims?

It seems in order for the growing violence against children to get any attention, the murder must be so extensive that it cannot be ignored, like the tragedy at Columbine High, or that the victim must have one thing. That thing is not a bright future, hope, love, or dreams. That thing is money.

James Eaton was young and vulnerable, but his tragic murder was not the focus of international news reports. (Compare this to the coverage of JonBenét, continuing even now, though it’s been over three years since her murder. The Denver Post alone averaged about six articles per month for 1999).

Ashley Gray, a five-year-old murdered by a family acquaintance, has also been deprived of her life, and while there was media coverage in Colorado, it did not become a subject of worldwide obsession. Would it be different if the murderers of Eaton and Gray were still at large?

Children from unmonied families are sometimes remembered on the long-term, but only when those families take it upon themselves to ensure they are not forgotten. What about the kids without someone to speak for them, or a photogenic life, or the resources to attract attention?

While all analogies limp to some extent, these beg the question: Had JonBenét Ramsey been poor, would the entire world have heard about her? More disturbingly, if she had been poor and if her parents been suspected, would they be walking around free today? They would have probably been speedily tried, a verdict reached — and whatever its results, they likely would have awaited trial in jail. (The above describes a hypothetical situation. The Ramseys have yet to even be charged, and remain innocent until proven otherwise).