Standing on a Prayer: A Burden for People of Color (Part 1)

Imagine an evening with nothing spectacular on the horizon. You’re a young man of seventeen years heading home from the market with a brown bag. Who knows what’s in it save you and the clerk who took your money? What you believe is that you’re about to answer the prayer of a little boy who asked for tropical flavored skittles. It’s not much but it’s what you can do to shift the day from mundane to something just shy of spectacular.

What you didn’t know is that someone was watching you –closely but not closely enough. You decided to wear a jacket with a hood on it. It wasn’t in an effort to conceal your identity but rather to express your fashion. No matter, someone else apparently had the same fashion idea before you and unbeknownst to you, they robbed someone. Your brown bag carries the resemblance of a concealed weapon and your hoodie confirms it. It’s about to be an unlucky You. You should have been insightful enough to anticipate your soon-to- be assailant’s paranoia. Didn’t you know it was your responsibility to think for him? You should never wear something similar to anyone who perpetrates a crime against somebody. Well, the exception to this? You could dress like Berny (Bernard) Madoff. Your name would even sound friendly. I doubt anyone would think twice about whether you’re a danger to them.

Eventually you learn you’ve been profiled, believed to be a threat and well, enough said (or thought in this case). After he identifies himself as the citizen protector, he alerts you that he’s protecting the citizens from you. Consequently, you feel threatened. There’s a caveat. He called “shot gun” (no pun intended). Because your assailant was afraid first, his fear was real, justified and of more value than yours. It’s still not a spectacular night but it has most definitely turned peculiar. You should have been afraid first rather than just minding your business buying skittles for a little boy.

Walking and minding one’s business is a type of prayer. It’s as though we’re silently saying, “I don’t want no trouble. Don’t start none; won’t be none.” I’m wondering why he didn’t hear it. Was the prayer not loud enough? Does this prayer require wearing a sign? As opposed to a hoodie, perhaps?

We all pray. Even in moments when we’re just minding our business. We pray for just the simple respect of not being seen for who we are not. We pray that you just slow down enough to realize your fears are yours to own and not ours to honor. They may not even be based on anything real.

On the night of the Zimmerman verdict, I found myself in a tavern populated by white folk. Being a black man felt more obvious to me than perhaps it would have just one night earlier. This evening felt particularly strange. I was, as I find myself often, the only black in the room, or in this case, the fenced-in deck immediately behind the tavern. This time was different. I was the only black man. I chanced an effort to be unusually sensitive – didn’t want to make a wrong move, raise my voice or draw unnecessary attention to myself. I had an anxiety around “standing my ground” should the need arise if conversation had gotten testy.

While there, I discussed with three white women the verdict, our feelings and our predictions. Each of them expressed unwavering disappointment in the verdict. They exude neither shame nor reticence in making their points. Their faces are sharp, eyes intent and the emotions to right a wrong are clear and

apparent. It feels good seeing allies from the white race. Do they feel my pain? Perhaps they do but even in what seems like cultural progress, I note there are no white men joining the conversation. Women still have their cross to bear on our collective journey to a just society. These three women, though white, have their own experience with oppression. Being a woman in a world dominated by white man and his version of imperialism has a profound impact on even white women. It may be the only time that white-privilege doesn’t rescue them from oppression. And it may be a key factor allowing them to empathize with the emotional anxiety associated with being black in America. It may not be much but perhaps this type of vulnerability will serve as an aid in assuaging the apathetic heart of White America. Zimmerman, I know, isn’t white. He’s just as White as President Obama but he’s not just as black so like it or not, he gets a pass.

The verdict, however, did not surprise me; neither was I pleased with the immutable inference of it. The inference being, “the appearance of fear is sufficient to prove a threat and if I can be sufficiently convinced that I am afraid, I have satisfied the right to use deadly force against you.” This is a deadly concept. Trayvon Martin’s death demonstrates this. Fear is a profoundly intense emotion but alone it is proof of nothing except maybe a person’s reaction to his or her interpretation of an event or, in this case, a person. We’ll keep on seeing these tragedies as long as we continue to use our fears as a way to weaken our fellow man.