Watching television, specifically the news, it’s hard to miss a report on Trayvon Martin’s death. I watched a news program a couple of weeks ago and they reported, at that time, that 19% of news coverage was about Trayvon. You might be asking why am I writing about this? If you’ve followed my blog, you know that my 2½-year old son, The Littlest E, the light of my life, is originally from Ethiopia. The senseless death of Trayvon Martin hits close to home because he could have been my son.
Recently, I’ve read or heard about two other shooting deaths of unarmed African-American young people. 19-year old Kendrec McDade of Pasadena, California, was shot to death by a police officer, and 22-year old Rekia Boyd, of Chicago, Illinois, was shot and killed by an off-duty detective. I can’t help and wonder if this is becoming a common occurrence, or if it has always been this way and the news is just reporting it more because of 24/7 coverage and social media.
It is unfortunate but true that we still live in a world where a person’s skin color matters to many. I have not been the object of anyone’s prejudice. Kids made fun of me when I was a teenager because I wore a back brace and people also crack an occasional Jew joke around me, but no one ever called me a “kike” or asked to see my horns. Prior to my son’s arrival in my life, I have to admit I lived in a racial bubble. It wasn’t intentional; I just knew a lot of white people.
Since we brought The Littlest E home, my life has opened up amazingly. Again, it wasn’t intentional; it happened organically. We have a wonderful mix of friends with different backgrounds, cultures, religions and races. So, when I heard about Trayvon Martin’s death, it struck a chord in me on so many levels. I started to think about the things my husband and I need to tell our son as he gets older about being black and what that means. I also started to think about the race problem we have in our country.
My husband and I are doing our best to impart on our son core values of empathy, compassion and love. Mind you, he’s still a toddler and if you’re a parent, you know the age. However, he has on more than one occasion comforted a classmate at his preschool when he/she was crying. We’re also doing our best to aid our son in building positive self-esteem, and he is doing well in that regard.
As The Littlest E gets older, if things in our present don’t change, we’ll have to make him aware of a number of truths regarding his color. When he’s old enough to drive on his own, he could be pulled over for absolutely no reason other than his skin color. This happened to a friend of mine’s husband. He has a fairly prestigious job and was driving his new car one day. Without justification, the police pulled him over. He got out of his car and surprised the police because he was impeccably dressed, which wasn’t what they expected. They gave him some excuse for stopping him and sent him on his way.
If our son keeps growing the way he has been (currently he’s in the late 90th percentiles for both height and weight), he could be well over 6 feet tall and be a pretty big guy when he gets older. He needs to know, very sad but true that, purely based on his size, women may walk on the other side of the street to avoid him due to fear. This happened to another friend of mine’s husband who is biracial, and he was with one of his children!
Do I also need to tell The Littlest E not to wear a hoodie at night, or is that feeding into the problem? I was listening to a news program where a panel was discussing the Trayvon Martin shooting, and Jonathan Capehart, a journalist from the Washington Post, relayed a story from his childhood. His mother told him growing up never to run in public and never run with anything in his hands in public. Is this advice relevant today? There’s a part of me that thinks it’s not, but that’s my denial. I’m afraid that it’s still good advice.
Fortunately, The Littlest E is only 2½ so we have a bit of time before we share with him these and other realities. Of course, we aren’t going to teach him to be defensive or make him feel like he has to walk on eggshells when he leaves the comfort of our home. As I mentioned, my husband and I are nurturing the positive sense of self inside him that has already begun to blossom, which will be key when conversations are had.
Trayvon Martin’s death got me thinking not only about my son, but also about global concerns of racism, prejudice and religious intolerance. I look at all the wars, which have been fought and are still being fought over religious or cultural intolerance. Why is that? Why are people afraid and hateful of people with differing religions and cultures? Why is there domination of one group over another? If we are on this planet together, don’t we all have the same right to be here? I heard someone say once that we’re all worthy of God’s love simply and purely because we exist. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful thing if we all believed that?
It is written in the Bible that we are to “love thy neighbor as thyself.” Does that mean that all the haters out there in the world truly hate themselves deep down? I did a bit of research and according to the Southern Poverty Law Center, there are over 1,000 hate groups in the United States, which is a 66% rise since 2000. That statistic sickens and saddens me. It means to me that there are a lot of fearful people. Because isn’t that what’s really at the core of intolerance? FEAR. It causes people to do the most horrible things. People are afraid they won’t get something they deserve or they’ll lose something they have. If we really and truly trusted in God, fear wouldn’t matter so much.
We have more in common with each other than some people realize. When we get cut, we all bleed the same. When a loved one dies, grieving is universal. We see the same sun and moon and stars at night. We all breathe the same air.
I’ve asked a lot of questions in this blog and haven’t provided a lot of answers. Some rays of hope, with the 24/7-news cycle, people are aware of what’s been going on and are taking action to improve our world. I see the children in my son’s preschool class and they all play together, regardless of race. Color doesn’t matter to my nephews and niece, who are 12, 10 and 9. Hopefully, as this generation of children gets older, things will continue to improve. Who knows? 15 years from now when The Littlest E is 17, the world may be a better place. I can always hope, right?
Images: David Shankbone, Mike Goren, Doug Kerr, and woodleywonderworks
Love your Blog … your thoughts are so heartfelt … makes me feel all full inside.
Danna L
Beautiful post, beautiful photos! Our youngest daughter was adopted from Korea many years ago and she experienced some difficult times back then. Fortunately, the social climate has improved a lot over the last decade and most people are much more accepting of cultural and racial differences.