March 29, 2012
The shooting and killing of Trayvon Martin has continued to inspire both outrage and mourning. By now we all have heard the reports or have seen the coverage, but it still boggles our minds why George Zimmerman—the neighborhood watch captain—would have felt so threatened by the sight of a 17-year old carrying nothing but a bag of skittles. Perhaps it was enough for Zimmerman that Trayvon happened to be black. Maybe now you can see why, for African-Americans like myself, it’s so hard to come to terms with this tragedy. Because what happened to Trayvon could have easily happened to any of us! Indeed, it could have happened to you, if you were just a few shades too dark to make Zimmerman feel “safe.”
I know first-hand what it’s like to be treated in this manner; when you realize that you are feared simply because of the color of your skin. I can recall times where I’ve walked into stores and found myself being followed by employees who suspected me of shoplifting. While travelling on buses and trains, I’ve sat down near commuters who suddenly felt the urge to safeguard their wallet or purse. On all these occasions, people refused to see me as anything but a criminal. And for this stereotyping, I had to face unwarranted suspicion and harassment. Yet, unlike Trayvon, I walked away still holding onto my life. Others, sadly, have not been so lucky.
The shooting and killing of innocent black men isn’t new. We have seen similar incidents with the deaths of Amadou Diallo (in 1999) and Oscar Grant (in 2007), both of whom were shot by law enforcement officers despite being unarmed. More recently in 2010, D.J. Henry––the star quarterback of Pace University––was shot to death by a police officer who responded to a disturbance. Within a matter of seconds the lives of these young men, none older than 23, were cut short. And what’s even more striking is that all these men died at the hands of someone who believed he was enforcing public order. Eugene Robinson, Washington Post columnist, gives us a simple explanation for this pattern: It all comes from the “hair-trigger assumption...that ‘black male’ equals ‘up to no good.’” Fortunately, we have seen people on campus speak out against this bigotry.
People on this campus are beginning to recognize the need to rise above harmful stereotypes and racial profiling. Last semester, Issae Rae spoke at a talk sponsored by the Feminists of Color Collective. There, she mentioned how black artists like herself have been inspired to challenge mainstream representations of African-Americans. And just recently students and faculty were involved in a discussion of Toure’s book, “Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness?” The phrase, “post-black” expresses the need to transcend monolithic descriptions which deny African-Americans the freedom to be themselves, and to be treated on their own terms. Now, in light of Travyon’s death, it has become all the more important for us to respect each other’s individuality.
I know how difficult this sounds; in order to give respect, we have to question our very own assumptions and practices. Just think about all the occasions where we succumb to stereotyping. Think about the jokes we crack, and how our humor might easily reinforce degrading images. Trivial as it may sound, stereotypes are a lot more deeply ingrained than we realize and unless we intentionally resist them, we may find ourselves at the mercy of the same bigotry that took the life of Trayvon Martin.
But my hope is that we will affirm each other on this campus in order to give one another what was denied to Trayvon: A chance to be respected and, more importantly, a chance to be loved!