Perhaps one day I will wish I had watched the trial of George Zimmerman, but right now I do not. With my husband on deployment and all of the stress encompassed therein; the anniversary of my mother’s death looming on the horizon, I’m not quite sure my psyche could have endured any more pain. Mine, right now is a delicate one. Every time someone posted tidbits from the trial I read them, reread them, attempted to dissect them with what legalese I have absorbed after so many years of watching Law and Order. If I had a credit for every episode I’ve watched, surely my juris doctorate would be hanging next to my Master’s. Each article or video I consumed created an opportunity for even more questions. I always came back with the same montage of pictures in my mind, each having the face of some young Black man in my life who means the world to me. My godson, Eric; my little brother Jared; my own son--straddling Zimmerman, the rage distorted face of two hundred years of being required to prove to someone who you are NOT…Fists attempting to pound the truth of who you are into someone who wishes you did not even exist; the open mouthed shock on the face after gunpowder eating flesh burns holes through the layers of your existence and your cool vitality oozes out, staining your hoodie…a mind…. slowly going blank while wondering how you got here in the first place. All you came out for was a bag of Skittles and some iced tea… My heart aches every time I see his mother…. I’ve watched the media dissect him, pull his adolescence into question, bringing his grades, brushes with the law and facebook posturing to the forefront--to the point where I’ve wondered exactly who the hell is on trial here, a teenage boy, doing the dumb teenage shit teenage boys do, or the grown man who was told not to follow him? We will never know what kind of man Trayvon Martin will be, if he will have come to terms with himself as both his father and older brother seemed to have done and grown out of dumb teenage antics, or if he would have spiraled out of control. His is a forever unfinished chapter…. I’m not looking forward to returning my son to the States for this and other reasons. Not only are strange neighborhood watchmen killing our sons; they are also killing each other at rates that I can’t even comprehend. The educational systems are failing with no money to fund them, there seems to only be enough money to build prisons to house them once every other door has been shut in their faces. I know that I don’t even have to watch the trial and whether George Zimmerman is acquitted or found guilty tomorrow has no meaning to me. I know in my heart, what is right and who is both judge and jury, my only remaining question is did Trayvon Martin also have the right to stand his ground?....
Posted on: Fri, 12 Jul 2013 11:40:28 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015