Asbury Park, New Jersey.
I was home from college for the summer, and I was bored. Usually I walked around the town if it wasn’t too hot since there wasn’t much to do.
This was also around the time that the white t-shirt fad was going on. White tees were 5 for $20 at every sneaker store imaginable. I had quite a few. It was the perfect summer outfit.
On this particular day, I decided to wear my white tee, jean shorts, and sneakers. I told my mom that I was leaving and walked out of the door. She told me that that it was really hot outside and I might not want to be out there too long. I knew she was right, but I was tired of being cooped up in the house.
A few minutes after I walked out of the door, another young man walked around the corner on the other side of the street. He was wearing a similar outfit as my own. He was on his cell phone. He walked along gingerly with a smile on his face. Meanwhile, a van trailed him. The van stopped abruptly and several men jumped out. Several men jumped out from other areas, too. In the hot summer sun I could see the reflection off of what looked to be police badges on some of them. It was a set-up.
I stood and watched from a distance. I wanted to go back into the house, since I was only a couple of homes down from my own. However, I did not want to get too close to the action. I watched and prepared to lay down on the ground to avoid gunfire if I needed to.
I also did not want to get any closer because I realized that I was dressed the same way as the person that was apprehended.
After about five minutes the altercation was over. The man was thrown in the van and it sped off. I decided to just go back into the house. It was very hot outside and I knew that there was the chance for more events if this was a drug related situation. My mother saw me walk in the door and was elated. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
She told me that she saw what happened outside of the window. ”The boy was dressed like you,” she said. “I was nervous. You saw how they just ganged up on him? I was a wreck until I saw you come through the door!”
I have no idea who that young man was that got swarmed by the police. Perhaps he was engaged in illegal activity. But in light of the recent events with Trayvon Martin, I want to connect with the concerns of my mother. She knew that my appearance was a liability.
If you aren’t in situations where you are instantly categorized because of your appearance, then the outrage might not make sense to you. But to every black boy who gets looked at funny when they walk into the “wrong” store (i.e. the store with the expensive items), trailed in a store while others walk around, or a multitude of other situations, this situation should resonate.
I once was Trayvon’s age. I had a hoodie. I like to get candy from the store. Truth is, Trayvon could have been any one of my peers growing up. Trayvon could have been me.
I cringe at the fact that it could also be my son one day. My son will resemble Trayvon at his age, just like I did. Maybe he won't have a hoodie. Perhaps he won't like Skittles. But he'll be someone of obvious African descent.
Some people say that Trayvon's killing was not racial motivated. It is just an unfortunate accident involving a crazy vigilante that should have been off the streets long ago. To that I say, even if this case ultimately is not about race, the reaction points to the larger picture. Race is still very much an issue in this country. It is a hot button because the wounds are still very fresh and raw. To ignore that will be a disappointing and tragic mistake.
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