Two Deaths. Three Tragedies

On July 13 2013 two tragedies occurred almost simultaneously. The verdict in the George Zimmerman trial was announced and the death of Cory Monteith was reported. Regardless of what a jury of 6 white women decided and whether you believe Zimmerman was guilty of 2nd Degree murder or not, his acquittal was a tragedy and a miscarriage of justice. I believed that to be the case when the verdict was announced, I still believe it now with every fiber of my being and that belief has only been solidified as juror after juror has since admitted that George Zimmerman "went too far" in his conduct on the fateful night of February 26, 2012. Anybody with half a brain should be asking themselves how it's possible to come to the conclusion and then admit that an accused person "went too far" on one hand, but not be guilty on the other.

Most of the people I know didn't need confirmation from a juror to determine that Zimmerman went too far. We knew it as soon as the few initial details of the incident were revealed last year. We knew it because, like Trayvon Martin that night, many of us have been profiled, targeted, viewed as suspicious and subsequently confronted; by police, department/convenience store employees, white women in elevators or the average citizen on the street who clutches their purses a little more tightly, makes sure to lock their doors suddenly, or tries to shrink and disappear into the corner of the elevator as they pray to God to just "get them out of this situation (and by situation I mean merely being in the presence of a big, scary, suspicious black man) safely."

When the verdict was announced I was with my wife and two of our young people who were preparing to minister the next morning in church. We were on our way to have dinner at our hotel and saw the breaking news coverage on a television in the hotel lobby. As disappointing and heartbreaking as it was to see and hear, none of us was surprised. In fact we had anticipated Zimmerman's acquittal. But hearing my young people, who are 18 and 17 express their sadness and fear was gut wrenching. They asked questions like "why aren't our lives as valuable as other people's lives seem to be?" and they made statements like "that could easily have been me." And they were correct. It could have been them because like Trayvon Martin my young people wear hoodies. Like Trayvon Martin my young people often walk down the street either talking on a cell phone or with ear buds attached to an MP3 player. Like Trayvon Martin my young people are black and have been on the receiving end of racial profiling.

And on a fundamental level, for people of color, black men in particular, that's all this case really boils down to. At the end of the day, had a white male been walking in Zimmerman's neighborhood, had it been Cory Monteith, or someone who looked like him, Zimmerman would not have been compelled to call the police. Zimmerman wouldn't have been compelled to get out of his car and give chase. He wouldn't have been inclined to engage in any contact at all and there wouldn't have been any confrontation, much less a violent confrontation that ended in a young boy's death.

And speaking of Cory Monteith, I can't help but notice the public sympathy his death is receiving. "Gone too soon." "The tragic loss of the boy next door." These and similar expressions have dominated the headlines of almost every magazine and news paper in the last week. And his death, as any young man's death would be, is indeed tragic. But I also can't help but notice the striking differences in the perception and treatment of Cory and Trayvon. Trayvon has never been described as the "boy next door." In fact, just the opposite is true. Trayvon, who had traces of marijuana in his system has been criminalized, caricatured and demonized as everything from a smoked out thug to a ghetto hoodlum. His character has been assassinated not only in the courtroom but in the court of public opinion.

Cory on the other hand, who died from a lethal combination of alcohol and heroin, has not been caricatured. Cory has not been demonized. He has not been stereotyped. Cory's death has been lamented. Cory's life was cut down way too young at 31. But the tragic end of Trayvon's life at 17 was essentially justified by the acquittal of his killer on the same night that Cory's death snuffed out a "shining star".

The reality is that both young men's lives came to a needless end. Both deaths are tragic. But an even greater tragedy is that while the nation weeps and mourns for one of them and in fact has elevated him to almost martyr status, the other young man who died 17 months ago is still, even in his death, being portrayed as less than human, a problem that needed to be dealt with. And he was dealt with. Violently. And conclusively. And his killer is free. A grown man followed, confronted, and killed a BOY and got away with it. And that tragic reality should strike fear in the hearts of every parent, every aunt, uncle or surrogate who has a male, teenaged loved one; especially if that young male is black.

George Zimmerman's acquittal declared open season on young black males and sent a message that it's perfectly justifiable and excusable to kill a black boy as long as the perpetrator says it was done in self defense. If you think that's hyperbole or histrionics, look at the headlines of incidents that have happened since Trayvon was killed.

http://www.policymic.com/articles/54339/black-17-and-shot-dead-in-florida-why-isn-t-jordan-davis-getting-the-attention-travyon-martin-is

http://newsone.com/2028377/walter-henry-butler-port-st-joe-florida/

There have been no verdicts rendered in these two cases but regardless of what the juries declare, there is no denying that race, like it did in the Zimmerman/Martin case, played a role in these confrontations. And until we are ready to confront this reality instead of talking around it or attempting to sweep it under the rug, rumors of a post-racial America will continue to be greatly exaggerated.