George Zimmerman was acquitted of murdering Trayvon Martin. Apparently he was allowed to “stand his ground” against a young man whom he deemed dangerous by virtue of the fact that the boy was African-American and wearing a hoodie. Trayvon, it seems, was not allowed to stand his ground against the man who was stalking him, first by car and then on foot, because, you know, white people aren’t dangerous. Until they kill you.
What I want to know now is what I’m supposed to tell my daughter, an African-American teenager. Maybe, since she’s a girl, she won’t be seen as quite so threatening by white strangers on the street. Maybe, when she starts driving, she won’t be pulled over by the cops for “driving while Black” – at least not as often as if she were a boy. (Lord, here I was just worried about when my teen starts driving because, you know, Teens. Driving.) Maybe she will just be followed in stores when she goes shopping. Maybe men will just make assumptions about the sexual availability of my beautiful girl.
But I have to explain it to her. I have to explain why George Zimmerman literally got away with murder, and why so many people seem to think that’s OK. I have to explain how Trayvon was armed with a sidewalk – a sidewalk! – which somehow made his young Black presence more of a threat than a white man with a gun. I have to explain, because she’s being raised by white parents, and as a child she was protected from much of the bitter truth of racism in this country. Because we knew to teach our little girl about the Civil Rights Movement and the heroes who fought racism so that she could live in a better world. But we couldn’t stand telling a five-year-old, a six-year-old, a seven-year-old what is obviously the case, that those heroes were only able to take us a few steps down the road, and we have so much further, so much further, to go.
But she’s a teenager now, tall and strong, who carries herself with a dancer’s confidence and grace. And now I’m going to have to explain to her that while she will need to stand her ground with boys who want more from her than she wants to give, and she will need to stand her ground against peers who want to offer her alcohol or drugs, and she should stand her ground against anyone who wants to convince her that their warped world-view is true, that she cannot afford to stand her ground if she is unjustly accused by the police, or anyone else in authority. And she cannot even afford to stand her ground against some self-appointed vigilante who decides to appoint himself in charge of where she is or is not allowed to walk. Because no amount of dignity or self-respect is worth getting killed at the hands of someone who knows you are dangerous because of your clothes and the color of your skin.
She cannot afford to stand her ground. And so I am going to have to. I, and all my other white, middle-aged friends and family who are entitled to walk down a street anywhere we like, we are going to have to stand her ground. We are going to have to tell the truth about racism, about guns, about where the danger in our society really lurks. And maybe, when I know that thousands and thousands of middle-aged white people are standing her ground, standing Trayvon’s ground, then having this conversation with her will not completely break my heart.
A prayer after the not guilty verdict of George Zimmerman
Spirit of love and justice,
Tonight I am angry.
May my anger burn cleanly,
Joining the light of so many hearts on fire.
May we know anger as a source of strength,
Anger that seeks to purify,
Anger that has as its fuel the power of truth,
Anger grounded in love,
May I live my life so that Trayvon Martin did not die in vain.
May my anger give me strength to take action,
To stand my own ground, the ground of compassion,
The ground of justice which dwells beyond courts of law and its technicalities,
The ground of worth and dignity of every human being.
May we live our lives so that Trayvon Martin did not die in vain,
So that African American youth are not seen as threatening merely because they exist.
May we take steps to bring such a world into vision.
Concrete steps, particular steps, in our own communities.
Anger used well is energy for life.
Anger turned inward saps the strength,
Anger turned to rage severs real connection.
May I use this holy anger well,
Use my privilege well, use my voice and my strength and my power.
May we draw on the strength of those who have turned anger to love through the generations,
those who have made a way out of no way,
those who have burned but not been consumed by this holy fire.
May we remember the strength of our connections to the generations,
The ancestors and those yet to be born,
The strength of our connection to the fighters and the lovers,
May I live my life so that Trayvon Martin did not die in vain.
May we live our lives so that Trayvon Martin did not die in vain.
May he live forever in our deeds, in our commitment to a justice
Which can never be found in any court of law.
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Quest for Meaning is a program of the Church of the Larger Fellowship (CLF).
As a Unitarian Universalist congregation with no geographical boundary, the CLF creates global spiritual community, rooted in profound love, which cultivates wonder, imagination, and the courage to act.