Trayvon Martin & my son

My heart hurts. In the back of my mind, I somehow always knew George Zimmerman would get off without any punishment, but I had a faint hope that I was wrong. A faint hope that justice just might possibly have a chance. But, sadly, no. And so, I am sad and angry.

But, I am sober. Sober to the fact that I have to prepare my son (who is half-black) to live in a world where, because he has dark skin, someone could want him to be gone –so much so that they would pursue him and kill him. Then, that person could walk away without being arrested and go through a trial where he is declared not guilty. Not guilty.

That is the world I have to prepare my 5 yr. old son to live in. And I ask myself, how do I prepare him for that when I am not prepared myself? I must prepare myself and rethink just what lessons I need to teach him in order to survive. And I must find a way to live with the fact that I brought my son to this place. I’m responsible for having brought him into a world where this stuff happens to people who look like him.

Therefore, it is my duty and my penance to do everything in my power to educate him on the disparity between what is said to be true and what is really true. What is said to be true is that there is justice and equality for all. What is true, as evidenced by court case after court case and the disproportionate distribution of health and wealth, is that we are not there at all… and have never been. My heart hurts because I wish my son could live as carefree as possible, free to walk around in ANY neighborhood without having to watch his back. But, I can’t let him be carefree like that…because his life depends on it. I am sad.