No Winners

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A young man is dead. No matter what you think of the Zimmerman verdict, a young man is dead. As my little black girl sleeps, I worry. In a way that only parents with little black & brown babies of their own can understand.

We think back to a time when people of color could be hunted without persecution. And you might think to yourself "we don't live in that time anymore". But you might not understand how men get followed, tags get double checked and cars slow down as we drive. You might not see what we see because you are not in our skin.

And as we raise our kids, it is scary. Because so many of us have lived in this bubble of hope thinking that things have changed. That we are safe. That if something happens to one of us, justice will be served accordingly. That our babies won't be profiled and killed.

There are no winners in this case.  Only three know what happened. One is six feet under, one is free and one has yet to pass His judgement.

I can only pray. For all of the families involved. And for the country as we dialogue about what just happened. Let us not forget that a life was taken. And let us move forward from this with a call to action to ensure that this does not happen again.

There are no winners so tonight, all I can do is pray.  Will you join me?

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It Takes a Village: Trayvon Martin

Can you imagine?

Your baby boy goes out to the store and you never see him again? You let him go because, what can happen? Can you possibly imagine having to be afraid that something will happen to your child because of the color of his skin? The hoodie over his head?

You know what it's like because you've experienced the undercurrents of racism. But, it's 2012. It's not like we're back 60 years even if we are in the south.  What will you tell your baby about this world he lives in? How will that conversation go with your child?

Baby, one day, someone might want to beat you senseless because of your hue? They might draw a gun and take you away from me. I know I tell you all the time that you are beautiful but, not everyone sees it that way.

Can you imagine?

...Your baby walks out and you never see him alive again ...Your precious baby boy (because let's face it, that's what he was to his mami) is gunned down for no reason other than a perceived threat by someone who has a history of vigilante behavior ...Your sweet child that you carried in your womb and nurtured with all of the love that only a mother can feel is gone. Lying on a cold slab in the city morgue ...Having no good and reasonable answer for why you are burying your child instead of the other way around? ...No consequences for the man that took your baby boy's life. Not after the statements were taken. Not after the calls were heard

Can you? Sit with that for a second. Because someone doesn't have to imagine it. Someone is living it.

And the reason I'm writing this today is because while you may think this doesn't apply to you, this could have been my child. And if I claim to believe that it takes a village to raise a child, Trayvon was mine. He belonged to each and every one of us. Each mami that can go home and hug her girlchild, each papi that can tuck in at his big boy tonight.

And if it takes a village to raise a child, you must understand that only a mother can bury one and that it takes a nation to speak for one.

Can you imagine? I urge all of my readers to sign this petition.

But above and beyond that? I pray that this outrage that we are feeling about this injustice does not wane. And that we can remember this case (among the others) when it comes time for us to truly speak for ourselves. That we choose to get up and vote so that all of the little boys and girls that did not get a chance to can be spoken for.

Because it takes a village and if I am blessed with having a baby boy one day, I don't want to think that he'll come into a world where this could happen to him. Can you imagine?