We Are Not Trayvon Martin

My fiancé is a 38 y.o. Hispanic-American; I am a 31 y.o. Asian-American. We are not Trayvon Martin. But we could be. And it terrifies and saddens me to know that our children could be. Texas is a very diverse state, but it is a red state through and through, and we are still living in the South. Guns and the Castle Doctrine here is absolute.

My fiancé grew up along the border surrounded by other people that looked like him. He wasn’t followed around his neighborhood or local stores for looking suspicious - he looked like everyone else. He used to ride his bike through the halls of the nearby elementary school after hours to avoid riding in the street with cars; no one ever stopped him or questioned him or arrested him.

I grew up in a suburb of a sprawling melting pot metroplex. There were many people who looked like me where I lived and went to school. There were many different people where I lived and went to school. My school was likely the most diverse in the district at the time. But we were still followed through stores at the mall; managers sent their employees to watch us for shoplifting; mall security kept a close eye on us “thugs” if we were in groups larger than three. I have been on the receiving end of many pointed looks, scathing glances, and whispers behind hands for daring to date the white boy, or the black guy, or “that Mexican kid.”

We live together now in one of the largest cities in the country. We are college educated. We are lawyers. But I cannot count of those facts to save our biracial future children, if they are walking home through a neighborhood where “they don’t belong” because of the colors of their skin. I cannot stop the next vigilante if he chooses to target my children. They will be neither White, nor Black, nor Asian, nor Hispanic; they will be Texans, Americans, children of the world, and I foolishly, naively, and fervently hope and wish and pray that one day they (and all of us) will be seen as such.

We are not Trayvon Martin.

We are a group of educated, middle-class, mostly middle-age white men and women who sit daily in a place of privilege based solely on our skin color.  We are advocates who work to end domestic violence and we work in a field where communities of color are often underserved.  We hold one another accountable to keeping ourselves open to discovering new ways in which we hold privilege besides our whiteness, which alone permits us entry into everyday turnstiles of power and ranking by race.  We collectively work together to find ways to bring awareness about and change to the societal institutions which are affected and infected by racism and oppression.

We are not Trayvon Martin’s family.

We empathize with the pain and terrible loss his family is suffering from and acknowledge that when our husbands, sons, nephews and grandsons walk home from the store that they will not be stopped, harassed, beaten or killed because of the color of their skin.  We send our children out into the world daily and never have to worry about giving them special instructions or safeguards based on their whiteness.  We do not have to have conversations with our children about what to wear so they are not seen as gang members nor do we have to warn them about where it’s not safe to drive or walk because of their race.  We do not have to tell them to keep their hands visible if they are approached by adults, especially if the adult is a law enforcement officer or a member of our Neighborhood Watch nor do we have to talk to them about how to handle the constant discrimination and profiling they will face due to the color of their skin.

We did not kill Trayvon Martin.

Even though we did not participate in the death of Trayvon Martin nor did we sit on the jury which found George Zimmerman Not Guilty,  we are a part of the institutional racism that perpetuates the fear of the young black man.  We are saturated in white privilege and benefit daily from the institutional racism that made his death and the not guilty verdict possible. We are part of the “system” that allowed a jury of 100% women and 0% African Americans to sit in judgment of a white man accused of killing a black man.

We are not Trayvon Martin.

But we are left behind to work diligently to understand how this kind of tragedy continues to happen in communities we share with our brothers and sisters of color.  We cannot know the experiences and trauma experienced by people of color in the US but we can talk to other white people about the racism that still exists and how our silence perpetuates it.  We can take action when we witness acts of racism and work to change the institutions that keep it in place.

We are not Trayvon Martin and we cannot change our whiteness but we can make a commitment to work towards stopping racially based violence in our communities.

I have seen multiple people make statements or posts on my FB page questioning why the Martin/Zimmerman case has had such high level of focus in the media and other criminal cases involving a white victim and black perpetrator have not garnered the same attention. And most of the “reverse examples” used have been in crimes where there was breaking and entering involved so not really an apt comparison, I don’t think.

It seems to me that the only people really questioning this are white. And already shows a lack of understanding and/or awareness of a common African American experience.  And I am not saying I fully understand or am aware of it because I know I do not or am not.  Still it seems we as white people should do our best to understand what we can.

Even if my analogy is not an adequate comparison, it seems an analogy might help seeing a viewpoint we might not normally see.

If you are willing, think of someone you have felt abused, betrayed, or otherwise hurt by once or (more aptly) repeatedly in your life.  How long did it take for you to not feel angry anymore? Were you able to forgive?  Were you able to forgive even without a formal apology from the person who made the transgressions?  Could you forgive even if he/she didn’t apologize? And if the person couldn’t see how they hurt you or refused to own up to it, would you ever trust him/her again?  Even if the person did make a heart felt apology how easy would it be to trust him/her again?

 How difficult would it be for you to forgive and not be somehow defined by someone beating you, saying degrading things to you on a daily basis or worse- killing or abusing your children or other family members.  If you felt worn down, full of grief, hopeless how long would it take for you to heal and be able to bring full positive energy back to your life again?  How long would it take you to heal if the wound was never allowed to close but instead the scab was irritated, continuously infected and/or rubbed off before it could ever completely close?

I can tell you that as a Jewish woman (even though I am non practicing now) that Jews will never “forget” being enslaved in Egypt and never “forget” more than 6 million exterminated in WWII, and that we hear derogatory disparaging comments regularly about Jews.  I have certainly heard my share not to my face but  maybe because I don’t “look” Jewish people might think it’s ok to say certain things around me without fear of being offensive.

When I was 25 years old I sat next to a young black man who was about my age.  We chatted for a couple of minutes about the usual stuff passengers sitting next to each other on a plane might; “Where are you headed?  Do you live there or are you just visiting,” and so on.  After only about 2 minutes of this, he said,” I can tell you have friends who are black?”  “How?” I asked.

“Because you look at me with an open expression on your face.”

His comment instantly stunned and saddened me.  To think that 70 percent of the population that surrounded him looked at him with something of resistance, negativity or worse -fear, disgust or hatred.

In my early years in High School I thought racism was already in the past and no longer active in this country.  How naïve I was.  It was very important to my parents to teach my brother and I that everyone is equal (not the same) but equal and deserved to be treated fairly, ethically and respectfully regardless of gender, skin color, sexual orientation, religious beliefs, financial status and so on.  Aren’t those some of the qualities that people uphold about what’s great about this country? If it is not the truth, not the reality of how all of the inhabitants of this country are treated but those characteristics are still upheld as vitally important wouldn’t you want to make it true?

How can we heal this deep wound if we don’t collectively recognize that the prosperity of this country was birthed out of the genocide of sovereign nations that were here first and through slave labor from the African slave trade? 

And some might respond that that was so long ago and we have come a long way from then and we have a black president now (or more accurately biracial). Why are we still talking about this? 

We are still talking about this because the original wounds have continued to be aggravated.  Certainly a victim should not rely on the perpetrator to complete a healing process.  However, it seems to me healing can occur much faster when and if a victim can confront a perpetrator and the perpetrator is able to do some soul searching and at least admit to the act, transgression or crime. If the pus of a deep infection is not allowed to drain, to be cleaned out daily, it can easily fester.  If a family member had an infection wouldn’t you want to tend to it regularly and gently?  I have heard some people say that some kinds of amends have been made: the right to vote, affirmative action and social welfare programs. To me these are not the same thing as an open apology and they certainly are not equivalent to making amends. Amends go beyond trying to make the playing field even, they return what was taken if possible and if not possible they give something back that could be considered equivalent.  The US government will never give the land of this country back to the remaining Tribal Nations, it can never return the torn apart and dead family members back to African families.  I have no idea what could be considered equivalent, but I do know that continued fearful attitudes that  promote paranoia and contribute to violent actions just seem to perpetuate the lack of trust and a holding pattern of unnecessary violence.

I read an essay on a different blog that also had what I thought was a great analogy.  It used a baseball game as an analogy.  That if at the beginning of the game the rules were different for each side such that the rules always benefited the yellow side and constantly put the green side at a disadvantage.  Then in the middle of the game the yellow side realized how unfair the rules were and made the rules the same for both sides but the score was still in favor of yellows how likely would it be for the greens to catch up or even win if they had been so weakened and put at a disadvantage for so long?  It has only been 50 years since the civil rights movement in this country and that is juxtaposed to the Atlantic slave trade that went on for nearly 500 years.

And I am not suggesting that crimes committed by black people are somehow excusable because of the painful history but that certain things should be looked at more deeply.  If you’ve ever had a bad habit that you’ve wanted to change, it usually requires some deeper awareness of the psychology involved and a willingness to do something different in order to become successful in changing the habit.

I have even heard a few of my friends who are involved with a spiritual community (mostly new age kind of spirituality) focused on the truth of our oneness as human beings and with all life make derogatory and/or prejudicial comments about African Americans or Latinos. In most instances I have called them out on it and asked questions so they might look more deeply into their negative stereotyping.

I believe the discussion of racism and how we are all impacted by it should and will continue until true healing occurs.  And those of us who see people as equal and are passionate about the importance of people being treated with basic equality and respect will continue to do our best to understand and bring understanding in the ways we are able.  If you say you care about humanity and care about making a better place for your children- for everyone’s children wouldn’t you want to do your best to understand. And that often requires a discussion.

If you have a fight with your spouse or partner and don’t discuss it, the feelings from the fight would have a hard time being cleared.  If you care about your country wouldn’t you want to be a part of the conversation to do what you can to help clear the pain?

Again, I am not saying that black people have no part in this healing process  and that it’s all on white people to mend, but white people were certainly the initial instigators of a certain way of thinking toward people with darker skin as “less than”, as “savages” and/or in some ways as not even human. And you might say, “Well African culture utilized slavery for much longer but from what I understand most of it was closer to an indentured servitude situation that ended after certain debts were paid than how slaves were largely treated in this country.

I do think we need to look much deeper and come to terms with the now often subtle unconscious ways these perceptions are perpetuated.

I am not Trayvon Martin.  I am the mother of five boys.  My sons range in age from 1 to 16 and any one of them could one day be Trayvon.  Any one of them could leave the house and never come back; any one of them could be snatched from me in one horrifying moment.  Any one of them could die on a rainy night, alone, on a sidewalk just minutes from our front door.  It could happen.  It has happened so many times before. 

I hope to never know the agony Trayvon’s parents know.  But, I am not naïve; I know all too well how easily one of my boys could be in a situation just like his; how, in one tragic moment, everything could change, forever.

When Trayvon’s story first became news, I sat my older boys down and gave them a talk.  It is a talk the parents of black sons have been giving for far too long – don’t run, show your hands, make it clear you don’t want any trouble; submit, submit, submit….  All this time I had told myself that I was raising men and here I am telling my sons to be afraid; teaching them to cower.  This is not what I intended.  And, yet, here we are.

When Barack Obama was elected in 2008 I woke my kids up the next morning and I told them, “The world is a better place than it was when you went to sleep last night.  Last night, we made history.  Today, I am proud of the country we live in and you should be too.”  Telling them about the Zimmerman verdict felt like a retraction.  How can I be proud of a country where the death of someone’s child goes unanswered; where but for the media scrutiny, his killer would never so much have seen the inside of a courtroom?  What is there to be proud of here?  How can this be the same country that not five years earlier elected its first black President?

That day, the day I had to tell my boys that Trayvon Martin’s killer was acquitted, I committed to doing what I can to make a difference; I will not cower, I will not submit; I will not accept that this is just the way things are.  I will not see racism and say nothing; I will not tell myself that it isn’t my job to cure the ignorance of others.  I can no longer avoid having those tough conversations; I will not.  I will not rest until my boys can leave the house without being afraid.

When I first heard about Trayvon being shot, I wasn’t as shocked. It isn’t the first time I’ve heard about a young man being shot and killed. But when I heard about why he was killed, by this ‘Neighborhood Watch’ enthusiast who didn’t listen to the dispatcher on the phone, I was astounded that this man wasn’t thrown in jail to begin with! A CHILD! Not even old enough to drink. Not even old enough to experience life, and it all ended because a man wanted to handle the law himself.

I am not Trayvon. When I was growing up, I lived in Colorado near the boarder of Utah. I was too young at the time to understand what was really happening around me, but it wasn’t a town to live in if you were not white. A man, when I was either 4 or 5, drove by our house, and came back by again and stopped in front. He yelled from his window at my parents, while my sister’s and I played outside, that “Prairie-N*****s aren’t welcomed in this town”. He drove off quickly, and my parents took us inside and called the cops. My father is white with a small amount of Native American (Ojibwe) that isn’t even considered high enough to the Government standard for determining Blood, and my mother is 7/8 Oglala Lakota, but we get Irish from both sides. They tried their best to explain to us what had happen, and told us to play in the backyard from now on, unless they’re with us.

My older sisters joined the Girl Scouts, and they were never invited to go over to other girl’s houses at the end of the group gatherings. None of the other mothers wanted to invite non-white girls over. There were three Hispanic girls at the start, but they soon turned in their vest. I had a friend in elementary school, who invited me over after school one day, and her mother said I had to leave. She never gave a reason why, but I walked back home and told my mother about it. My mom said for me not to worry about it, their house was probably just too messy for guests. The next day, my friend told me we couldn’t be friends because her mom said so. Was it because I was too dark? I don’t know, and I don’t think my friend knew either.

 Third grade a little boy tried to do a war cry and called me a 'Squaw when I walked by him. “Squaw” is a derogatory term towards Native women, in particular, because it refers to their genitals. I was raised to be proud of my ancestry, be proud of being a Native American! So I beat him up. I was suspended and almost kicked out of the school because of it. The Principle at the time didn’t think him doing a war cry and insulting me warranted him having a broken nose and losing a tooth. She tried to tell my parents that it was just a name, and a name has no meaning. My dad was furious. He asked her what race she was. She responded with “I’m part German, and English.” And my dad said, “Well then, you don’t mind me just calling you a Nazi then.” She was so caught off on being called that, she said “You can’t call me that!”. And he just let her know, “You said it’s just a name. A name has no meaning.” I was just suspended for a day, but had detention. The little boy had to serve neither charges I had to.

My parents told my sisters and I that we would face racism from our own race too. “Full bloods” of our tribe aren’t too friendly about “Half-breeds”. I’m not saying all of them are that way, but ask anyone of them about their feelings toward us, and they won’t be saying anything too nice, because that’s how they’re taught to think from the older generations. My own extended family on my mom’s side; my oldest sister, who is just a half sister, doesn’t like my sisters and I because we are part white; my uncles and their children were raised to dislike us, and we’ve never met. My dad’s side is no different: my grandma called us her “Little Indians”, and continues to say racist things and just pretends that nothing is wrong with it; one of my dad’s sisters won’t ever invite us over because she doesn’t want her neighbors to see us. My grandfather from my mom’s side passed away a few years back, and at his funeral, my family wasn’t well received, even though we were his granddaughters. 

I grew up around bigots, and racism. I continue to have to live around it every day. I cut off any ties with any family members that aren’t my parents and my two sisters I grew up around. I’m afraid to have any kids because I don’t want to be ashamed of how divided my family is because my parents fell in love. I’m afraid that they won’t be accepted because they are Native American. I’m so tired of seeing and hearing parents telling their kids racist things. Telling them to be afraid of people who are too dark. Telling them that if they’re light-skinned, they are prettier, they are happier, or that they are better off in life.

My middle school science teacher made a snide remark and told me I wouldn’t get far, being as dark as I was. And that’s so pathetic. Pathetic of her to say something like that to a child. To say something that a child will believe because she is an adult, she knows more. She should have known better, but I know better now. Just because she’s was born in a generation where racism was 'OK’, doesn’t make it right. It will never be, and never has been, right to be that way. People should be ashamed. Ashamed that they could say that because Trayvon was black, he was probably deserving of what Zimmerman did. No one deserved to die over walking home. No one should have to be profiled because of their skin color, or their gender. I would have done what Trayvon did. I would have fought back. I would have protected myself from the predator that was Zimmerman. 

He ruined his own life, when he took Trayvon’s. He ruined a family’s life, because they’ll never be blessed with that child’s presence. It makes me sick to think of bringing another child into this world, just for this cycle of hate to continue because I’m not the only teacher my child will have in their life. Just like I can’t protect my child if they’re walking home with Skittles and tea, from a man wanting to harm them because he thinks he’s the law.

Just learnt on Huffington post of this mvmt. I am black, I do not live in the US but as a black outsider looking on its time that all Americans get real and face the elephant in the room. Having a black President has not suddenly righted every racial wrong. It’s naive to not have an open conversation. Protests in the form of these “ I am not Trayvon Martin” activities will go a long way in really dealing with this issue. Times have not changed sufficiently , but they certainly aren’t as awful as before and now might be the best time to have a real conversation about something that is not changing fast enough. The continued dehumanising of black ppl is an outrage to blacks everywhere, to humanity. Everyone needs to see our hurt as their hurt if all of us are to be better. It’s just plain wrong that a whole race of ppl have been marginalised by instituitionalised behaviour. The non trayvons of this country must continue not be Trayvons, it could very well be the catalyst for change.