I'm not asking for a Kumbaya Moment,..but still

Racism in America is inevitable. It is a result of our history,a part of our legacy and frankly in my opinion is our DNA. The topic of race in America has become a part of the dialogue on social networks, blogs and media coverage since the tragic senseless death of a young 17 year old boy named Trayvon Martin.  

The other day I touched on the topic, expressing how his name will forever be on the lips of those of us who remember the young men that died senselessly just as he had. There is nothing worse for a parent than to bury a child, sadly that is what Trayvon's parents had to do.  

Now, here are the few, of the many things that just get under my skin about this whole situation. To begin with this happened on February 26th, one month ago folks, yet the news became HEADLINES only recently. While I listened to the news tell me the dribble of Beyonce looking great two months post-birth, and who else is pregnant in Hollywood, this was going on.  Are you kidding me? It took the media three weeks to get to this nationally, but the Desperate Housewives case is on GMA and the Today Show? Then people wonder why so many Black people are upset! No offense, but that is some serious bull!

Granted, I was not present when Trayvon Martin was shot. I do not know exactly what transpired between him and George Zimmerman. What I do know is that Trayvon had a can of Arizona Ice Tea and Skittles. Not a gun, not a knife, not even a pair of brass knuckles, but it is Trayvon Martin who is dead! This is sparking Black parents to have conversations with their children on how to be when they find themselves the only chocolate chip in a sea of vanilla. 

Growing up I had that very conversation with my father. I think he believed he would never have to speak with me about such things. I suppose he allowed himself to be deluded to think that having daughters who were light skinned, his being a Doctor and living a respectable life with my mother in an almost all White neighborhood he wouldn't have to. All that changed one day when I was fourteen years old shopping for Christmas gifts for my friends in the local mall. This is a memory that has been seared in my brain, knowing that one day I too would have this talk. 

It all began in Spencer's, I was strolling through the cramped aisles looking at joke gifts after just having picked up giant Sugar Daddy's and Lip Smackers at CVS earlier. I was just browsing when an older white man began following me around the store. It creeped me out at first, for all I knew he was going to hit me over the head when I got close to the storage room door and rape me, so I decided to exit, rather than push my luck. Just as I made my way to the door he grabbed my arm, jerking me back in. The conversation went as follows;

old man: "Hold it right there!" 

Me: "Hey let go of me! What did I do?"

old man: "You think I don't know just because I didn't see you? I am sick of you niggers 

                     coming in stealing from my store!"

Me: "Did you just call me a nigger? What the hell is your problem?"

old man: "Just empty your pockets and purse! Now missy!"

Me: "Let go of my arm! My father is waiting for me at Sears and will be mad if I am 

                   late! I told you already, I didn't take anything!"

old man: "I just bet your father is even here! You will just empty them when the cops get  

                  here! I am not in the mood to play with your kind!"

Me: "GET OFF OF ME!" 

old man: "Shut up! You are going to wait for the cops! Then we will see!"

Now my father walks by and I am yelling at the top of my lungs causing a major scene in the store. My father walked in at the same time as the Police Officer. I thought great, now it will be all over and this guy can get his meds. 

My father: "Just what is going on here?"

 old man: "Nothing that concerns you!"
My father: "I believe it does, that is my daughter you are holding."

old man: "Well then you should have taught her not to steal!"

My father: "Christine!"

Me: "I swear Papa, I did nothing, I walked around, he followed me, when I tried to 

                    leave he grabbed me, I told him he was wrong."

Policeman: "Then let's clear this matter right now, empty your pockets and purse."

Me: "Why? He even said he didn't see me take anything, he just feels I did."

My father: "Sshh sshh, it will be okay, I believe you and we will  talk about all of this in a 

                    moment. Just had me your jacket and your purse."

Me: "okay"

The cop inspects, and finds nothing. The store owner still grills me with his eyes. The conversation continues.

My father: "I am sure we are free to leave now."

old man: "This time she didn't take a thing, but I know how they are! She probably hid it in  

                     here hoping to come back for it later!"

Police man: "Okay sir, you can leave."

My father:  "Dr."

Policeman: "Excuse me?"

My father:  "I am Dr. Coupet."

Policeman: "Okay Doc, anyway you and your kid can go now."

My father:   "and as for you sir, there is nothing in this store my daughter couldn't afford on 

                      her allowance alone."

old man: "Hmph!"

My father: "Don't worry she will not return here!"

I felt violated, somewhat humiliated, worse I was angry because I was accused and manhandled for nothing. That is when my father took me out of the mall, we were silent on the way back to the car, digesting the experience I suppose. Once we were in the car he had the talk. He explained to me that rules were different for Black people and we had to find a way to be submissive without degrading ourselves. He told me when I got my license it was important I was polite and respectful to the officer if ever pulled over, and when in stores to make certain that I never give the perception of any wrong doings, such as shoplifting. To be agreeable and somewhat in-offended when asked to have my bags checked when exiting a store.

The joke is that a Black boy is born a suspect. Unfortunately, that rang true on that night when George Zimmerman saw a young man walking home through the neighborhood and thought he was up to no good. Some of you may still not get what all the fervor and anger is about, but I hope my experience shed a light for you to further understand why we as a collective recognize racism so quickly.

I do not believe in two wrongs for one right, and am not calling for the head of George Zimmerman. What I do want is justice for Trayvon and the Martin family. Mr Zimmerman lost the right to claim self-defense with Stand Your Ground when he went in pursuit of Trayvon, and what is more when he used a racial slur when talking to 9-1-1 and being told to sit still. For these reasons he violated the rights of Trayvon Martin and committed a murder felony when he took that fatal shot.

So while we protest, boycott and apply pressure understand why this case has to be the last time a young Black man is killed simply for the color of his skin. One has to wonder would George Zimmerman have reacted the same way if Trayvon was blonde blue eyed Scandinavian looking in the same outfit. Something tells me no. I believe he looked at Trayvon and saw a threat merely because of his skin color.  Since he lived in a gated community, George Zimmerman knew that the police would quickly be on the scene. After all it wasn't the "HOOD"!

Only one quote this time but most appropriate; "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere"-Martin Luther King, Jr.