Justice for Trayvon

There is probably nothing more that I can say that no one else has already said about the decision in the Trayvon Martin case.  On Saturday night, like most people, I became enraged with emotions, and I hit the social media networks to express my feelings.

"I'm stunned. Are we in 1913? How can there be no retribution for a life lost, esp when innocent people get time for less. #TrayvonMartin"

This decision is very close to home, especially being a young African-American male.  I can't think of the number of times that I walked through a predominantly "white" neighborhood when I was around Trayvon's age.  Like him, I had no intent of causing harm to anyone but merely was navigating through the neighborhood to make it to home or to football practice or to school.  I am just blessed that I was never caught in any wrong-place-wrong-time situation; it is scary to think that could have been a possibility at any given point and time then.

The not guilty verdict also brings race relations back to the forefront of conversation.  We should be reminded that 1965 was not that long ago.  Ironically, the Supreme Court voted down the Voted Rights Act because it was determined that society has moved beyond the times of yesteryear when it comes to race relations and segregation.

Discussing race relations is only the start for reconciliation of the wounds reopened by the Trayvon Martin decision.  A few of my friends posted their comments on social media networks over the past week. One of them is http://huestonlifechronicles.blogspot.com/2013/07/a-mothers-tears.html.  Their comments and remarks facilitated an hour-long conversation with my girlfriend talking about discrimination, my experiences with racism, my approach to racism, and America in general.  It was great talking with my girlfriend about those topics; both of us minorities of different ethnicities and varying experiences of blatant racism but similar sentiments allowing us to relate to one another.

At the end of the day, there is still the life of a child, the brevity of, that is mourned.  A family has lost their son, brother, nephew, cousin, and friend.  

Yesterday, my girlfriend and I attended a memorial for Trayvon Martin at Waterfront Park in Louisville, KY organized by community activist Christopher 2X. The event was also a peaceful protest begging for justice for this life lost.  Participants were asked to bring black balloons in memory of Trayvon.  To me, the black balloons symbolized the darkness, mourning, anger, and bitterness for what is perceived as the injustice in this case, and this was apparent on the faces of those tightly gripping their balloons.  Christopher 2X said some poignant words asking that anger be turned into something productive for the children and for the future before coordinating the release of the balloons. As soon as everyone loosened their grips and watched their emotions float up the the heavens, there was the united feeling of hope and an audible, resounding sigh the crowd let out-- a community's first step of working towards healing.