This is a book blog. It didn't start out that way, but that's what it evolved into, and I love it. Sometimes I will relate stories about my children or things that we do (see Prom and Earth Day). Sometimes I will do a product review and/or giveaway; sometimes I will post an article about a cause or event that I think is worth drawing more attention to.
NEVER have I posted any sort of political or societal piece; I firmly believe that those types of writings belong on a different sort of blog. But the shooting of Trayvon Martin:
has caused me to search my soul and has revealed fears that I wasn't fully aware that I harbored for my own Bebe Boy James:
I am cross-posting an article that I first wrote as a diary on Daily Kos (link to original diary), because I think that it's important for everyone to get some sort of understanding of the visceral fear that has been stirred up by Trayvon's killing for those of us who are parents of young black males.
NEVER have I posted any sort of political or societal piece; I firmly believe that those types of writings belong on a different sort of blog. But the shooting of Trayvon Martin:
I am cross-posting an article that I first wrote as a diary on Daily Kos (link to original diary), because I think that it's important for everyone to get some sort of understanding of the visceral fear that has been stirred up by Trayvon's killing for those of us who are parents of young black males.
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In the wake of the shooting of Trayvon Martin, a young teen who was shot while walking back to his father's girlfriend's house from the store in Sanford, Florida, I must now figure out how to have "that talk" with my own son.
I first heard about Trayvon Martin when an acquaintance on Facebook put up a video link to a televised interview. The woman being interviewed was Sybrina Fulton. Her son Trayvon was visiting his father in Sanford, FL when he was shot and killed on his way home from the store. In the interview, Ms. Fulton was describing her son as a "regular kid" who liked to play sports, eat ... the female interviewer interrupted with "chicken?". The male interviewer tried to clean it up with "anything and everything", but the racial overtones were insensitive at best. I rolled my eyes at yet another person showing their ignorant side.
But I decided to read up on the incident that led to this interview. I Googled, I listened closely to the 911 calls - the one made by the shooter himself as well as the ones made by people who heard some sort of altercation and those who only heard someone calling for help, then whimpering, then a shot. I listened to the background noise on those tapes. I wasn't there, but it definitely SOUNDS as though a child is calling for help and then whimpering in the background. After the shot, that voice is silenced.
My youngest brother was murdered four years ago on his way home from a club (he was 38). He was giving a girl he didn't know a ride home because one of his friends asked him to (apparently, her boyfriend was very intoxicated and she didn't want to ride home with him). While he was stopped at a red light, another car pulled up behind him. Four people got out and they pulled my brother out of the car. There was a fight, one of the guys pulled a knife, and my brother was stabbed. He managed to get back into his car and drive for almost two blocks before he had to pull over. He died and we still don't know who his killers were. We DO know that, according to witnesses, his killers were white.
I relate the story of my brother's murder only because I want to emphasize that not every white person who kills a black person is someone I would consider a racist. I have my own suspicions about what happened, but nowhere in my suspicions does race play a part (my brothers are both brown- ... well ... caramel-skinned). He was killed by bad guys who happened to be white.
This is NOT, however, a diary detailing what I think happened and what reason leads me to believe happened in the Trayvon Martin case. My strong hope is that the shooter is charged and brought to justice. The heartbreak of these parents demands it.
I'm bi-racial, but fair-skinned, so I have managed to escape many of the assumptions that certain people make on sight about black people. This also means that I've borne personal witness to the kind of statements that certain people make when they don't realize there's a black person in the room.
I'm also a parent. I have three girls - 28, 23, and 18, and a boy who is 11.
We parents have many talks with our children - the "birds and the bees" talk, the "people who do drugs are stupid" talk, the "guys who wear pants down to their knees are stupid" talk, the "kids who walk around saying 'mf', 'ho', 'n', and 'b' sound stupid" talk (well, maybe those last two talks are just me).
There are some talks that only parents of black children have. For me, those talks have been "you can't have C's, because you have to be better than average to get ahead" talk, the "no, you CAN'T walk around talking like that because people will think you're uneducated and ghetto" talk. My girls used to tell their friends that if they called the house, they had to speak "proper" or I would tell them, "Call back when you learn to speak English" and hang up (yes, I AM that kind of parent). Right or wrong, I think that there's a certain way to speak to authority and grownups.
If I manage to find another job anytime soon, we'll move right back out of our current neighborhood into a better one, but right now, I live where I can afford to live, and the neighborhood is not the greatest. I keep my son close to home, and my worries for his safety are easily explained by "we live in the city; I want him safely in sight or calling distance".
All of that aside, I now have to debate whether or not to add another talk to my retinue: the "how to properly walk through white neighborhoods without being shot" talk or maybe simply the "how to not look suspicious" talk.
I've canvassed with different groups and in GOTV efforts in various areas and suburbs, and I know from personal experience that my brown-skinned co-workers have had the police called on them for walking around the neighborhood going from door-to-door; they've had people call them the "n" word while being told to go away; they've been stopped and even frisked by the police simply for walking around these neighborhoods. They weren't doing anything wrong; we weren't selling anything, so we weren't violating any type of "no soliciting" laws, but they were still stopped by the police and made to submit to a search, even though the police are always notified ahead of time that we will be in the area door-knocking. This hasn't happened to me or to our white co-workers (although, to be fair, an elderly person DID call the police saying someone was knocking on their door at dusk and when the policeman responded, he told me "just be careful; we have a lot of older people who worry about strangers at their door when it's not full daylight" before he moved on). Common sense says that this equals racial profiling. It has its own injustice and is, in its own way, very disheartening.
Trayvon's case now highlights another concern that I have for my young son. How do I talk to him about this without making him think that ALL white people are going to look at him as suspicious if he's in certain neighborhoods? What do I say to him to keep him aware without making him dislike people who, to be fair, are half of my own racial makeup? What do I say?
I keep mulling this over and over in my own head. Do I tell him, "if someone you don't know is following you, run?". In Trayvon's case, running made the shooter backtrack, get out of his SUV, run after him, confront him, and then shoot him. Do I tell him, "call 911 and keep them on the phone as you're trying to get home?" Do I tell him, "Always keep your hands in plain sight?". I don't know; I don't know; I don't know. What do I tell him?
When my daughter was 17, she was walking home from about 10 blocks away when someone in a car started following her for a different reason, catcalling and asking her if she wanted to "party" with him. She called me and stayed on the phone with me as I ran down to where she was.
Do I tell my son, "Call me and I'll call 911 as I'm on my way there?"
What kind of world is this where I even have to ask myself these kinds of questions?
But I decided to read up on the incident that led to this interview. I Googled, I listened closely to the 911 calls - the one made by the shooter himself as well as the ones made by people who heard some sort of altercation and those who only heard someone calling for help, then whimpering, then a shot. I listened to the background noise on those tapes. I wasn't there, but it definitely SOUNDS as though a child is calling for help and then whimpering in the background. After the shot, that voice is silenced.
My youngest brother was murdered four years ago on his way home from a club (he was 38). He was giving a girl he didn't know a ride home because one of his friends asked him to (apparently, her boyfriend was very intoxicated and she didn't want to ride home with him). While he was stopped at a red light, another car pulled up behind him. Four people got out and they pulled my brother out of the car. There was a fight, one of the guys pulled a knife, and my brother was stabbed. He managed to get back into his car and drive for almost two blocks before he had to pull over. He died and we still don't know who his killers were. We DO know that, according to witnesses, his killers were white.
I relate the story of my brother's murder only because I want to emphasize that not every white person who kills a black person is someone I would consider a racist. I have my own suspicions about what happened, but nowhere in my suspicions does race play a part (my brothers are both brown- ... well ... caramel-skinned). He was killed by bad guys who happened to be white.
This is NOT, however, a diary detailing what I think happened and what reason leads me to believe happened in the Trayvon Martin case. My strong hope is that the shooter is charged and brought to justice. The heartbreak of these parents demands it.
I'm bi-racial, but fair-skinned, so I have managed to escape many of the assumptions that certain people make on sight about black people. This also means that I've borne personal witness to the kind of statements that certain people make when they don't realize there's a black person in the room.
I'm also a parent. I have three girls - 28, 23, and 18, and a boy who is 11.
We parents have many talks with our children - the "birds and the bees" talk, the "people who do drugs are stupid" talk, the "guys who wear pants down to their knees are stupid" talk, the "kids who walk around saying 'mf', 'ho', 'n', and 'b' sound stupid" talk (well, maybe those last two talks are just me).
There are some talks that only parents of black children have. For me, those talks have been "you can't have C's, because you have to be better than average to get ahead" talk, the "no, you CAN'T walk around talking like that because people will think you're uneducated and ghetto" talk. My girls used to tell their friends that if they called the house, they had to speak "proper" or I would tell them, "Call back when you learn to speak English" and hang up (yes, I AM that kind of parent). Right or wrong, I think that there's a certain way to speak to authority and grownups.
If I manage to find another job anytime soon, we'll move right back out of our current neighborhood into a better one, but right now, I live where I can afford to live, and the neighborhood is not the greatest. I keep my son close to home, and my worries for his safety are easily explained by "we live in the city; I want him safely in sight or calling distance".
All of that aside, I now have to debate whether or not to add another talk to my retinue: the "how to properly walk through white neighborhoods without being shot" talk or maybe simply the "how to not look suspicious" talk.
I've canvassed with different groups and in GOTV efforts in various areas and suburbs, and I know from personal experience that my brown-skinned co-workers have had the police called on them for walking around the neighborhood going from door-to-door; they've had people call them the "n" word while being told to go away; they've been stopped and even frisked by the police simply for walking around these neighborhoods. They weren't doing anything wrong; we weren't selling anything, so we weren't violating any type of "no soliciting" laws, but they were still stopped by the police and made to submit to a search, even though the police are always notified ahead of time that we will be in the area door-knocking. This hasn't happened to me or to our white co-workers (although, to be fair, an elderly person DID call the police saying someone was knocking on their door at dusk and when the policeman responded, he told me "just be careful; we have a lot of older people who worry about strangers at their door when it's not full daylight" before he moved on). Common sense says that this equals racial profiling. It has its own injustice and is, in its own way, very disheartening.
Trayvon's case now highlights another concern that I have for my young son. How do I talk to him about this without making him think that ALL white people are going to look at him as suspicious if he's in certain neighborhoods? What do I say to him to keep him aware without making him dislike people who, to be fair, are half of my own racial makeup? What do I say?
I keep mulling this over and over in my own head. Do I tell him, "if someone you don't know is following you, run?". In Trayvon's case, running made the shooter backtrack, get out of his SUV, run after him, confront him, and then shoot him. Do I tell him, "call 911 and keep them on the phone as you're trying to get home?" Do I tell him, "Always keep your hands in plain sight?". I don't know; I don't know; I don't know. What do I tell him?
When my daughter was 17, she was walking home from about 10 blocks away when someone in a car started following her for a different reason, catcalling and asking her if she wanted to "party" with him. She called me and stayed on the phone with me as I ran down to where she was.
Do I tell my son, "Call me and I'll call 911 as I'm on my way there?"
What kind of world is this where I even have to ask myself these kinds of questions?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I just had to share this with you; it's so hard to articulate the "wrongness" I feel when trying to figure out how to warn my son of the dangers inherent in the color of his skin. I don't know if I'm looking for advice so much as looking for some "reasoning" to give Bebe Boy James that won't make him feel "other" or "worth less".
What a sad state of affairs this is.
