We Are Ferguson

We Are Ferguson

 

Some pain cannot be hidden, I have put off writing about the Ferguson, Missouri teen, Michael Brown…as long as I possible could.

Some pain is inevitable. I watched the video of the mothers of shooting victims: Michael Brown, Trayvon Martin, and Sean Bell. I have written numerous times about Trayvon Martin and his assailant George Zimmerman. I have expressed my sadness and disappointment in the outcome of the Zimmerman trial. I have even written to George Zimmerman personally, in my blog.

I watched as these strong women flexed their heart muscles toward one another. I could feel the pain they are dealing with, deeply. I know, as was said by one of them, the pain never leaves you. I can understand how that would be true. These strong women are a reigning example to all of us. They reached out to one another, not because they weren’t still in pain…but because they understood the feeling of isolation that losing a child can bring. The compassion they showed was about women…just being moms. Remembering the days when their children were laughing and smiling; lighter times where such tragedies weren’t even in the back of their minds. I admire the love and unity they gave to one another.

As a mother myself, I feel deeply hurt by the death of Michael brown. I am hurt by anyone that would think, say or believe that his murder was okay. Because you see, for me, he was a child. He had a home. He had a family. He had a life separate from what we will hear about in the media. He had a unique smile and contagious laughter…even if his mom was the only one that experienced it. He is a part of humanity…and he always will be.

His death wasn’t unfortunate…for that term tends to lean toward the base word “luck”. Michael Brown was gunned down…and his assailant Darren Wilson will have to live with that fact. We may never know what the day held for Michael Brown or Darren Wilson, before they met that day. Maybe they were confronted by death already. Perhaps someone had harassed or bullied them. Perhaps they had taken all they could stand that day. Possibly, all the patience they could muster had been spent elsewhere. We may never know the truth about the events leading up to the tragic death of this angel.

But from this I can tell you two things:

Michael Brown was gunned down needlessly. And while he may be a statistic that we refer to…he is so much more. I hope that when we think of him; we remember his face. For those that were fortunate enough to have spoken to him…remember his voice and how his eyes sparkled when he laughed. Remember all the greater things about him; do not let the way he left this place be the only conversation about him. He had a soul and he touched all those who walked with him…he even touched those that walked past him. I pray that his family finds some peace. I hope that we, as a nation, can look on this angel lovingly…with respect to his memory.

The other thing I know is this:

Like George Zimmerman, Darren Wilson must learn how to live with the consequences of his actions. His family will have to learn how to move forward…for not unlike Zimmerman, Officer Darren Wilson will forever be known as the cop that shot that kid six times….dead. This will not be an easy process…it is not intended to be. I pray that Darren Wilson is also able to come to grips with the reality of his actions. It is my hope that we start setting more strict guidelines for our law enforcement officers. We are losing too many of our young black men and something must change.

As a mother, I can tell you that it wouldn’t matter to me if my child had been killed by a police officer, or a trash collector. A white man or an Asian woman. It would only matter that I have one less place to set for dinner.

There is probably nothing as strong as a mothers love for a child; I hope one day we can all learn to love in that way…intentionally. Let us not look at what happened in Ferguson as an incident…it is a pandemic.

This did not happen to a small town in Missouri…it happened to all of us; and it continues to happened all over the world. This is not a matter of them and us…no matter how the media portrays it. We must see ourselves through the eyes of our children, because they do not see race or religion. They do not see sex or money. Children only see each other for exactly who they are….which is why they smile and laugh all of the time.

We are not better; we are not worse…

We are Ferguson.

Dear George

Dear George,

I am writing this today, because I can no longer bite my tongue. I thought I could remain silent after the trial…but I see that I cannot; not after watching your video. I understand it must be difficult when you feel like the whole world doesn’t know you and you are being judged. It must be difficult trying to find employment and real friends; but since you don’t seem to understand it…I wanted to sit down with you a moment and try and make sense out of it.

…It was a rainy night; not too much rain…but just enough that the teenager had difficulty seeing things clearly. It was just a snack; something to hold him over throughout the night…not a big deal. As he left the store, he put his hood on, so he wouldn’t get wet. His mom was always getting on him for going out in the rain and waking up sick the next day. Since he was at his dad’s house, he didn’t want his mom to get mad at him too.

He looked up and noticed a vehicle that seemed unfamiliar. It drove slowly by; maybe he thought I was someone he knew… the child said to himself. He called his best friend joking with her and noticed the SUV driving past again; he made a sidebar joke with his bestie…and kept walking. He begins to get nervous; the vehicle rides past again slowly…looking…lurking…yet no word is spoken.

The child’s heart starts beating faster. His mouth salivating, as his nervousness increases. He must make sure that this person isn’t after him; so he runs down random streets to try and lose him. Again the mysterious vehicle follows him. He knows that he could run straight to his dad’s house and be safe, but then the stranger would know where he lived and worse where his family lived.

His palms begin to get sweaty; he knows that this guy needs to confront him…these situations never turn out good. The man gets out of the vehicle and starts to approach. You could hear the voice on the cell phone screaming…as the phone fell to the ground…Trayvon, Trayvon…are you there?…

 

George, I know you have your own version of what happened that night…and unfortunately, your version is the only one that we will know.

I watched you in court. I looked for a person who was truly sorry for what happened. I sought a person who felt that the killing of a teenager was a horrible outcome of this story. I did not find that person in your eyes.

You stated recently that people don’t know the real you; and that other than what they have seen in regards to this case, they don’t know you…at all. You even stated, in defense of the, “He’s a racist”, claim; that you had been mentoring a black child. I hope that you understand what an insult that is. I always find humor with people that say…”I’m not prejudiced…I have a black friend”. You would probably be better served to not do that again.

I do have some loving advice for you; as I feel compelled to reach out to you. Don’t get me wrong…regardless of what the state of Florida says…I think that you are guilty. I think that you should have been punished…someone died. That someone had a name, an address…he had a family and because of your actions…he also had a funeral.

I think that the largest injustice that was done, in your defense, was to make Trayvon Martin appear to be the assailant. The media and your legal team made an issue, out of the fact, that Trayvon had been suspended from school for having trace amounts of marijuana in his book back. They made issue out of the fact that he had tattoos. They made issue out of the fact that he had gold teeth and that he made a video showing gang signs. They even made issue out of the fact that Sabrina Fulton, Trayvon Martin’s mother, chose to use pictures of her son at an earlier age.

I digress…let’s get back to you and what is really important.

If you want the world to see you differently…stop signing autographs at gun shows. This does not say that you have any compassion or empathy for a nation that is mourning the loss of this child. Volunteer at a children’s shelter, read books to kids at a library, and show the world that you regret what you did.

It’s okay, you can’t be prosecuted again. Clear your soul…tell the truth. Do not write a book about how you have it so hard, because of the trial. You have it hard because you killed someone and the world noticed. You have it hard, because even you, don’t think that you are innocent…and your soul is torturing you.

Understand that your words…will not bring back that wonderful child. His family will miss him for the rest of their lives. And while you are making statements about living in poverty and having no friends…the Martin family…has one less place to set at dinner. They have to find a way to go on living without their son…while you still get to breathe.

You are still alive…I would offer to you this: make the most out of your moments. Do not spend an ounce of your day feeling sorry for your situation. Starting today do something different; stop looking out for George…and look out for someone else. Volunteer…or better yet; I would suggest that you go to a meeting for parents whose children have been killed. Stay and listen to their stories…let it soak in. Pray. I only hope, that in that prayer that you will really understand the brevity of what you have done. You will know if it did…because you will no longer be singing the “What about me” song.

I pray that our Creator will be merciful with you…in your growth. I cannot hate you…while my emotions may scream for it…I know that hate is something that my soul refuses to do. I do hate what happened. I pray every day that no other family will have to bury their child too soon. I pray that we realize that a tattoo, skin tone, and/or drug use…does not make any of this okay.

George, I will leave you with one more thought: In your journey for understanding…look deeper into yourself; work on the man that you want to become…and seek forgiveness. The anger and frustration you feel…does not come from any place other than within.

 

Peace be upon you

Dear Trayvon

Dear Trayvon,

I heard the news today. I would love to say that I was surprised, but I wasn’t. I watched everyday as the trial of your murder unfolded. I watched video recordings where your assailant said he wouldn’t have changed anything; that it was God’s will. I heard him say that that it was you that was stalking him; a thought that I find peculiar since you were on foot and he was in a vehicle. I also heard him say that he only shot you because you were beating him into the sidewalk; but I wonder how you would have been able to do this…had he not left his vehicle, as the police asked him not to pursue you. I watched George Zimmerman sit smugly in that courtroom, with no sign of remorse. One would think that even if he felt pressured to kill you…the reality that he took a life would leave him feeling remorseful…but I never saw that. Perhaps if I had, then I would have at least felt that the shooting was REALLY an accident. Maybe if I hadn’t heard him call you a punk…without having the first conversation with you…I might have thought that you hadn’t been profiled.

I watched the defense insult your mother, Sabrina Fulton, asking her if she hoped the screams for help had come from you. The question was supposed to indicate that if they had come from you then George Zimmerman would have been the aggressor. Clearly though, this line of questioning was geared to knock her off balance, But your mother is a Queen and handled herself, as such, she was clear…the only hope she could have possibly wanted was that you would have been alive.

On Facebook, I saw where your murder was compared to that murder of a 12 year old Caucasian boy in Texas. It is always sad how we place victims on trial. How one of you would have to appear more “innocent” than the other. One would have to be more responsible for his own death, than the other. One would have to be right, where the other would clearly have to be wrong.

The media criticized the use of a younger picture of you. They criticized your tattoos and other various parts of your life that had absolutely nothing to do with your murder that night.

I never expected justice; for even if the jury had found Zimmerman guilty of murder…there could not have been justice…you would still be gone. The world would still be missing your smile and your family would still be mourning the loss of a bright and brilliant angel.

Clearly evil was at work that night…and when I saw a smile come over the face of that defendant I understood…evil lives on. George Zimmerman is a genre of evil. He had it in him to do the right thing…he failed. He could have seen you for an individual, but he did not. He decided who and what you were…and created his own predisposed fear…and he acted on that fear. He followed you…and after calling the police…based on his suspicions, he IGNORED their orders. He took the law into his own hands, He approached someone who was bigger than him and then claimed victimization.

Shame on you George Zimmerman…I do not know how you sleep at night. I do not know how the eyes of that child fail to keep you awake all night …every night. I do not know where your soul has gone…but I pray our Creator is merciful with you.

He may have been found not guilty…but he was not found INNOCENT.

I am thankful that you are in peace now…lay your hands on your family…as their pain is deep…and may God have mercy on us all.

Heaven’s Brilliant Light

Heaven’s Brilliant Light

This child of mine

He goes by many names

But no matter how you see him

I still love him the same

You may see only his skin

Or a style of clothing he wears

But I see him with my heart

Something most mothers share

You may see a trouble maker

An assumption most will make

But to me he was just my son

He had a future…can’t you relate

This child of mine is not a token

He doesn’t stand for your cause

He was a child taken too soon

Caused an entire country to take pause

You may decide he was nothing

A waste of time and energy

But he was my love and life

He meant the world to me

A year ago today a young man

Was stolen from us all

And if we decide he wasn’t worthy

Because of tattoos…or he was too tall

Perhaps we should re-evaluate

Our values and moral ideals

Because when a child is killed

It’s about…how do we heal

How does a family mend

When life has been shot down

And explanation as of yet

Has yet to be found

This angel has a name

It isn’t thug or criminal

He’s just a debate to most

But your view is minimal

Tonight when you go home

Tucking your children to sleep

Remember sometimes we try to

Make wolves out of sheep

Rest In Peace Trayvon Martin

May you watch over us today

And remind us what happens

When we put hate in our way

Give us patience and grace

From our Creator so bright

Until we meet you in heaven

To bask in Heavens brilliant light

 **RIP TRAYVON MARTIN**