Trayvon Martin's death troubles me on so many levels. He was a kid, just a kid on a cell phone in an affluent neighborhood. In the shadow, under the hoodie, he could have been anybody, any color. But he wasn't. He was African-American.
That is the difference.
In life, he was an ordinary teenager. In death, he represents every racially motivated crime ever committed in this racially divided country. It's easy to imagine the typical middle class adolescent rolling his eyes when the parents tell him to pull his pants up, push the hoodie back, look people in the eye, smile, keep his hands out of his pockets. "Come on, Mom, you're in the wrong century!"
But I find myself more and more uncomfortable with the media circus surrounding this boy's death. Maybe I'm reading it wrong--I hope so--but what I see is a blood-lust to sacrifice George Zimmerman in exchange for Trayvon.
It is so much more complicated than that.
To belabor the obvious: What about all the others? What about the kids with hoodies who live in neighborhoods without gates? When those boys are killed, the reporters write it up succinctly, with a clinical detachment. The stories are on page 10, section D, buried under the divorce petitions and dog-leash violations. Another drug dealer dead--look, he had marijuana dust in his backpack, must have been on his way to pick up a shipment for sale.
Somebody loved them, too.
Trayvon Martin's death must represent all. It was awful, unnecessary, wrong--duh. But the reason this case resonates so loudly is that it represents far more than the tragedy of one family. Let's hear less about the impending doom of one crazy neighborhood crime watch guy and more about the ever-present reality of racial profiling. How can we ever expect our children to embrace democratic ideals unless we act on those principles?
The guilt--and the obligation to change our world--rests squarely on our shoulders.
When Andy was killed, nobody wanted to place blame on the individuals involved. Everyone was quite happy to blame the impersonal entities, the fire department's bureaucratic faux pas and the power company's failure to act. There was no George Zimmerman to burn at the stake, and there was no criminal investigation. Nevertheless, individuals caused Andy's death. If one--only one--person involved in that debacle had acted responsibly, Andy would be looking at his 30th birthday in a few months.
So what does Andy's death have to do with Trayvon's? Everything. Because we all make decisions to act or not to act, every day. Trayvon's death was racially motivated, enabled by apathy. Andy's death was caused by simple apathy.
If we are to protect our children, we must act. Politicians will blather and reporters will foment frenzy. The rest of us must do more than watch them.
I can't bring back any of the victims. But I can look my neighbors in the eye. I can smile at the lonely old woman muttering under her breath; compliment the shy blond 12 year old who is sure she's too fat; say hello and make eye contact with the teenager hiding behind tattoos, piercings, saggy pants and hoodie. I can at least do that.
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5 comments:
As far as I can tell, all of the evidence regarding this has not come out - as awful as it appears to be - people are innocent until proven guilty.
I love this post. I am still chewing on it, but I love it.
Cailin: Part of my point is that the guilt is generalized. It isn't just about Zimmerman and Martin; it's about all the victims of stupidity, apathy, rigid thinking, etc.
Another very thoughtful post on your part, Lauren. This whole situation has been one emotional roller-coaster after another. I can honestly say, I don't know how to feel. I would be lying if I said there hasn't been a part of me that wanted revenge. I saw that a group calling themselves the New Black Panther Party was offering a $10,000 bounty for any person who "captured" Zimmerman. When I saw that news feed I felt embarrassment and sadness for my own temporary blood lust. You're right. The Trayvon Martin case is bigger than Trayvon and Zimmerman. This outcry is about Jim Crow. It's about the spirits of dead bodies, black and white, floating in the Mississippi River. It's about the souls of black husbands, fathers, brothers, sons who are still swinging from tree limbs in the backwoods of Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia and Florida.It's about any black boy who whistled at a white woman or talked back to a white man. It's about my Daddy saying "yes, sir" and "no, sir" to white men half his age or having to stand and hear, as he stared at the ground, white women telling him, "You are a good boy, M.C.," after he did some work for her around her house. It's me, in 1973, STILL being told I wasn't good enough to pee in the good bathroom that the whites went to. Trayvon's murder has plummeted many my age and older into a cesspool of hate from our past, present, and we pray not, our future. This murder brings back the pain of the beak of Jim Crow pecking at us, reminding us that we are chattel. No better than farm animals.
I think that is why all of this emotion scares me. My son and his friends are not used to this and many my age and older have grown comfortable and forgotten, to a degree, how much has changed, yet much has remained the same. My son and his peers don't remember stories like this happening during their lifetimes, so some of them want blood. Old testament vengeance. Many of the adults want the same. Somehow, we are all, black, white, and every other human affected by this murder, going to have to figure out how to separate the brutality of this murder from all of the brutality that has happened between the races over the years. Otherwise, I fear that there will be more hate and bloodshed. I pray that won't be the case.
I just read several of these blogs, and I am enjoying them so much. I don't take the time to frame words to outline the contents of my head. And much of what you say does that for me. I don't agree with EVERYTHING, mind you! Nontheless. Nicely done.
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