I am not Trayvon Martin. I am an African American stay at home wife and mother of three sweet girls. I was born in Atlanta, Georgia, and though I am not Trayvon Martin. I know many Trayvons. As a former educator I witnessed a system that allowed some of our most brilliant children to fall through the proverbial cracks. As a college educated, lighter hued, African American woman who has always lived a comfortable middle class existence, I know my privilege. Though I have been racialized, and I know what it is like to be a woman in a society that attenuates women consistently, I will NEVER know what it is like to be a black man in Amerikkka. I do not know what it is to be viewed as a menace to society. I am not Trayvon Martin.
I am not Trayvon Martin, but my husband could be Trayvon Martin. He’s a Certified Public Accountant, and wears the corporate uniform of a suit and tie to work each day. He possesses a Master’s in Accountancy from one of the top Accounting Schools in this country. He’s worked at a Big Four Firm, and has punched numbers for both privately and publicly traded companies. He is the African American male in his office. A wonderful provider for our family, and a superb father. He could be Trayvon Martin.
In his spare time, my husband enjoys a jog or participating in martial arts. When he isn’t dressed in his work attire. I fear for his life. I encourage our daughters to hug his neck, because I don’t know if I will get a phone call or a knock on the door because someone mistook my former valedictorian, war veteran, brilliant, husband not as a neighbor but as a threat. He could have been Trayvon Martin - and I always fear that he will be Trayvon Martin. Arguably, Trayvon Martin, had he not been profiled and shot senselessly, could have lived to become a productive contribution to our society just as my husband has lived to be.