This post originally appeared on March 21, 2012. We are re-running it today on the anniversary of the death of Trayvon Martin.
Last night, I put a fleece hoodie on my five year old nephew so we could go for our routine walk through the neighborhood. He likes going for our walks as much as I do. We race down the street – him burning off sugar energy before bed, me (hopefully) burning off belly-fat creating calories. As we walk/run our several blocks, sometimes, often times, he gets ahead of me then looks back, pleading for me to catch him. It’s when he is away from me that I feel the most fear.
He is a sweet boy. Very smart and observant. He can replicate dance moves that he sees on Glee, always wants to watch SpongeBob, and never misses the opportunity to flirt with a pretty girl. Last night, he made a derogatory racial gesture at the dinner table and I explained to him why it is not okay to do that. I explained that it hurts people’s feelings and that it’s not acceptable to hurt or be mean to other people. I demonstrated the point by asking him what color his skin is, to which he replied: brown. I asked him how he would feel if a classmate put dirt on his body and then pretended to be like my nephew. He said he wouldn’t like it.
As we were walking out of the house, I took a picture of him in his hoodie. He was all goofy smiles and innocence. He had no idea of the evil that lurks around the corner for him as a brown boy. No idea that everything he says and does is subject to more scrutiny than a fairer skinned boy dressed the same way. I want to teach him about this; tell him that he is different. At the same time, I don’t want to shatter that part of him that I know will forever be changed. He should not have to face the fear that him walking down the street, or into a store, or talking to a girl, would be viewed differently than his white friends.
I am not ready for this. I’m sure Trayvon Martin’s parents felt a similar conflict of the heart. How do you tell your boy that you must always be “better than?” Truth is, Trayvon was better than, and yet, on that fateful night last February, it still didn’t matter. He’s dead. Shot in the street just moments from where his father lived.
It didn’t matter what Trayvon’s parents, family, teachers, coaches, or friends thought of him. He suffered through moments of terror and cried out for help, only to be silenced forever. For Trayvon, when he was being tracked by a hunter out for blood, it mattered only what this one man of questionable background saw that night.
As I chased my nephew down the sidewalk, he screeched with excitement. All I could think about were Trayvon’s unanswered cries for help. All I could think about was what if my nephew needed help, would anyone come before he was beaten or murdered? Law enforcement in Trayvon’s case seemed to have the right idea in mind initially by calling off the tracker. That lasted as long as it took until police got to the scene of the killing. Then things went a way that should not ever happen, and now we may never be able to piece it all together. Trayvon’s cell phone has disappeared but it has been verified that he was on the phone seconds before being killed. Witnesses have said that they were manipulated into saying certain things that favor the killer. The one thing we know for sure is that his killer is currently free to walk the streets.
If you can, please join the march this evening in New York City. Or wear your hoodie as a sign of solidarity for this family who seeks and deserves justice.
Like Trayvon, my nephew is every brown boy – never to be comfortable in his own skin no matter his accomplishments. I don’t want to let my nephew out of my house. He doesn’t deserve this. Neither did Trayvon.
Image via Elvert Barnes