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STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK YOUR BONES, BUT THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

Sticks and Stones May Break Your Bones, But The Truth Shall Set You Free

Louise Annarino

April 11, 2012

At 5 I was allowed to ride my new Huffy bicycle on the sidewalk in front of our house, back and forth between the alley and the corner; and walk down the alley with my wagon.

At 6 I was allowed to play on the sidewalk in front of our house, crossing the alley, from one corner to the other corner.

At 7 I was allowed to go around the nearest corner, to the farther alley beyond Van’s market, and back to the house.

At 8 I was allowed to go around the corner and across the street to the Hartzler Public School playground, and push my 3 year old brother Michael on the swings. Or so I thought.

On a hot summer day, I took Michael to the playground for a swing. I noticed 6 or 7 slightly older children near the merry-go-round as I picked him up and set him in the swing. They were just hanging out, as kids do. I recognized most of them.

A girl who lived down the block yelled to me, “Get outta here. you don’t go to this school.”  Her comment broke the boredom of a summer day for the other kids.

One of the boys asked,”Where does she go?” as the group headed our way.

Another answered, “She’s one of those Annarinos”.

“Oh, a dirty WOP,” laughed another boy as the entire group of boys guffawed and  punched one another in the arm. The girls giggled. I moved to the front of the swing to block Michael, and gently slowed my pushes while soothing him with soft words.

One freckle-faced girl in pig-tails stopped beside me, her feet spread with her hands on hips, and taunted, “ We don’l let Eyetalians on our playground”; then, spit at my feet.

The group closed in.Their aggressive laughter, taunts and physically intimidating stance had frightened Michael who began to cry. As I turned to lift him from the swing and into my arms, the first volley of rocks hit the back of my head, shoulders, and legs. I tried to block the rocks with my body as I carried Michael away, but we both were being stoned mercilessly. In those days, kids were tougher and played on rocky playgrounds, not on mulch-surfaced play areas. With plenty of ammunition available, they chased us and pelted us to the curb. They screamed at us, “Go away. No fish eaters allowed. If we ever see you again, we’ll kill you! You’re nothing but dirt, you and your WOP brother.”

I did not know what a WOP was. I did not know what a fish-eater was. But I knew the word “dirty”. It was usually followed by “Dago” or “N…..”.  I sensed this was the same kind of biased hate. The words and the rocks hurt. But, they also made me angry because they made my baby brother cry, and I could not protect him.

The group did not follow us across the street. I carried Michael home to my mother, Angela. I explained what had happened as I placed Michael in her arms. She examined our scratches, and the lump growing over my eye from a particularly large rock. Cleaning up, icing bruises and lumps, and bandaging cuts meant nothing. My anger meant everything. How could these children be so mean to Michael, who was so helpless? I knew kids could be mean, but to a baby?  Why did they care that we were using the public school playground? What did the words WOP and fish-eater mean? How did such words make it okay for them to attack us? How could I have protected Michael? By the time Dad got to the playground after Mom called him home from his restaurant, it was empty.

I listened to Mom’s explanation of Wop and fish-eater, and the accepted dislike for Italians and other racial or ethnic groups. “That’s the way the American people are,” she explained. “That’s the way the American people are” was a constant explanation for incomprehensible behavior as I was growing up. I found white Americans very confusing, until Mom explained their thought processes, biases, prejudices and racism to me. Every discussion ended with “That’s the way the American people are.” This time she added, “Always remember this: Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names can never harm me. Never listen to the names people call you. You are the only one who can hurt you.” I stopped listening after shouting at my own wise mother, “Words do hurt! They do harm!” It took many more years to understand the message she intended to impart with her words.

The front doorway into our elementary school was massive; the double-wide doors encased in blocks of limestone. Messages had been carved in each side of the limestone lintel overhead. On the left side were the words “Knowledge Is Power”; and on the right, “Ye Shall Know The Truth and The Truth Shall Set You Free.” Our class lined up two-by-two behind the convent every morning and again after lunch, then Sister led us into the school. Each day, during the pause while two of the boys opened the doors wide so our class could enter, I read those comments carved in stone. They became my motivation to understand what my mother and father, and the nuns and priests tried to teach me. I wanted to understand what words really meant,how knowing words would set me free and give me the power to change “the way the American people are.”

In high school, swastikas and “fish-eaters” routinely graced the outside walls of our high-school gymnasium. I learned about water hoses, Jim-Crow words like “colored fountain”,  …and much worse. I read the DIARY OF ANNE FRANK and learned about yellow stars of David, words like “crystallnacht” …and much worse. Anne Frank taught me that every word had two meanings, the inner meaning and the outer meaning.

In college I learned how this duality of meaning could be used to obfuscate and confuse. MAO’S RED BOOK and 1984 taught me how words’ many meanings are used to create propaganda. It is not only mean and nasty words that damage and destroy; even kind and gentle words can if their outer meaning is code for the inner meaning of how to harm. And a lie becomes truth simply by repeating the words over and over.

I have listened to propaganda and hate speech all my life it seems. I have seen the confusion, misunderstanding, and harm and such words cause. They even cause death:

Irresponsible mortgage holders or responsible homeowners?

Union thugs or organized laborers?

Welfare Queens or struggling single Moms?

Radical revolutionaries or progressive thinkers?

Propaganda or “spin”?

Truth or talking points?

Residents of the prison or inmates?

War Between the States or a Civil War?

Contented slaves or people suffering human bondage?

Wealthy job creators or greedy pirates of industry?

Save social security or privatize and underfund it to an early demise?

Bail out banks and auto-industry or save the world from a severe Depression?

Attack business or reasonably regulate business to avoid another world-wide economic collapse?

Attack religion or enact “The Sermon On The Mount”?

Reverse racism or affirmative action?

Black thug in a hoodie or typical teenager?

Dr. Frank Hale Jr. was a wonderful man, my friend, a distinguished scholar and civil rights leader. Hale Cultural Center at OSU is named in his honor. This past week, someone scrawled “hate speech” on the wall of this center for African-American cultural appreciation and racial understanding when they painted on the words “Long Live George Zimmerman”. George Zimmerman had been using a photograph of this wall on his legal-fund support web-site. It was removed just hours ago. Let me use words clearly: The white man who shot and killed an un-armed African-American teenager used this image, of words whose inner meaning  appealed to racists (making a hero of a white man who killed a Black child) to raise funds for his legal defense fund. Ironically, after many weeks he remains free, possibly armed with the murder weapon, and has not been charged with a crime. This scenario speaks volumes.

This scenario has resurrected the pain over Dr. Hale’s death; as if George Zimmerman had not only desecrated Trayvon Martin’s life, but also the life and honor of Dr. Hale. The pain of words can hurt with the pain of a bullet. Words kill the soul while taking a life. For, what Mom was trying to tell me that day is that George Zimmerman’s words kills his soul as he uses words to justify taking a life. Words cannot harm my soul, nor that of Dr. Hale or Trayvon Martin, though the sticks and stones of the speakers may break our bones. However, they will harm the soul of those who use words to hold others in bondage rather than to set each of us free. They will harm those who lie to enrich and empower themselves rather than seek truth to enrich and empower us all.

We have heard many lies during past political campaigns. But, this is worse. Propaganda is now a spectator sport thanks to 24/7 cable news. And too few children are being taught to  appreciate words such as those I read at my school door. Instead we are teaching them to appreciate the best “spin”, the sexiest image, a talking point that “sticks”. We admire pundits who can “hit” the other side “hard”. Despite the many hours we devote to political discussion, very few truth seekers can hold  our short attention spans, entice advertisers, or keep their jobs. So, our political commentators settle for less than true, kind of true, half-truths, and interesting lies…and call it today’s news. And our politicians tell us our freedom is threatened by President Obama’s Black Panther associations, Muslim faith, fake birth certificate, socialist economic plan, secret agenda, apologist foreign policy etc. No, it is threatened by those politicians unwillingness to “seek the truth”, speak the truth, and accept the power of an African-American president. It is not our president who threatens freedom, but those who unfairly attack him with words that fail the truth test.

I want Dr. Hale to be remembered for his grace; not the dis-graceful words visited upon the Hale cultural Center. Dr. Hale’s truth is stronger than hate and lies. Dr. Frank Hale, Jr. was inducted into the Ohio Civil Rights Hall Of Fame. I wrote the following poem in his honor  to celebrate that occasion. My  Reflection of Dr. Hale at his funeral service follows the poem.

 Dr. Frank Hale

Ball Player Extraordinaire

Louise Annarino

Barefoot

you stepped up to the plate

eager to test your strength;

your aim,

your best effort

to simply hit the ball

and get to first base.

Frank, you did it all.

You can stand tall

and stretch

to see how far

that first ball

flew

when it met your bat.

Every day

ball after ball

you pushed your luck

and learned all you should

about what could

push the ball

off the would into space.

You are a man of grace.

It is written all over

your face,

and in the mind

and heart

of each of us to whom

you gave a start.

You taught us how to play

the game,

then let us rest and foment

while we struggled

to face the next inning.

Pushing and shoving

ball against wind.

All the time hoping

and praying

and trusting the umps

to be fair;

too often, not.

Yet, we kept on playing

off all that you taught.

It was a hard game to play;

though your skills won the day.

We soon understood it

must be won anew every day,

pushing wood against air to get a single hit.

Doubles, triples and home runs

all too rare.

You have been our captain,our coach,

and our spiritual guide

sliding your pride into stolen bases

for all races.

It is only right that your name will remain

in the Ohio Civil Rights

Hall of Fame.

 

REFLECTIONS OF DR. FRANK HALE, JR.

by Louise Annarino

August 7, 2011

It is not Frank Hale, Jr.’s death which brings us together today, but his life. Frank was quite simply…a good man. To many of us Frank was also a hero…a role model…a mentor…and  a kindred spirit.

How did such a kind and gentle man inspire and elevate us to be more and do more than we thought possible?

-By CHALLENGING the status quo

-By CALLING OUT racist ideologues.

-By NAMING racism in its most minute practices, and in its grandest schemes.

-By REDEFINING and RESTRUCTURING racist practices and procedures of institutions of higher education, and within other corporate settings.

-By STANDING FIRM against injustice and oppression of African Americans, and all who suffer oppression.

-By REFUSING TO BEND moral and ethical codes of civil conduct to simply satisfy base emotions.

We each have stories to tell about Frank. But I challenge us to do more than reflect ON the life of Dr. Frank Hale, Jr. I challenge us each to BE his reflection in each of our communities.

Whenever WE challenge authority which enforces institutional racism in our schools, our workplaces, our boardrooms, our banks and investment houses, even in our own homes and  houses of worship –  we are a reflection of Frank.

Whenever WE refuse to laugh at a racist or bigoted joke, and instead use it as a teachable moment  to stop bigotry -we are a reflection of Frank.

Whenever WE refuse to become uncivil despite racist provocation, and instead respectfully command the respect of others to listen to truth and become more just – we are a reflection of Frank.

Whenever WE hold tight to the courage to tell uncomfortable truths at the risk of losing social acceptance amid the mighty and monied – we are a reflection of Frank.

Whenever WE focus our “eyes on the prize” instead of on material gain – we are a reflection of Frank.

Whenever WE lift our voices in an oratory against injustice – we are a reflection of Frank.

Today, I challenge each of us to BE a reflection of Dr. Frank Hale, Jr. We could do no better to honor Frank. Frank’s spirit will always be within us; and, through us, Frank’s spirit will continue to make this a better world.

Thank you, dearest Mignon, for asking me to reflect today upon my loving friend, Dr. Frank Hale, Jr.

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WANT PRIVACY OR PROTECTION?

 

WANT PRIVACY OR PROTECTION?

Louise Annarino

April 3, 2012

I hesitated over the original title of this piece – Want Privacy or Protection? Shoot a Police Officer. I worried some readers might not understand the ironic tone it is meant to impart to my words. The NSA and others may be trolling the internet for just such a word pattern. The following three stories jumped off the page and struck me down today and I believe the title is apt, if absolutely disgusting. But, the thought was so distasteful I could not use the words “Shoot a Police Officer” even though that seems to be where this analysis takes us. Writers should be fearless; but, also responsible.

1.U.S. Supreme Court rules  that jailers may perform invasive strip searches for even minor offenses. In a 5-4 decision, the Supreme Court ruled against Albert Florence, who faced strip searches in two county jails following his arrest on a warrant for an unpaid fine that he had, in reality, paid. “Florence, who is African-American, had been stopped several times before, and he carried a letter to the effect that the fine, for fleeing a traffic stop several years earlier, had been paid.” Nevertheless,officers handcuffed him and took him to jail. Mr. Florence had already passed through  metal detectors, submitted to  pat down searches, had his clothing searched, and showered with delousing agents at 2 jails. But Justice Kennedy insisted being in the jail population, for whatever reason, justified such an invasive search. Further, he stated that the court must defer to the judgement of corrections officers “unless the record contains substantial evidence showing their policies are an unnecessary or unjustified response to problems of jail security.”

http://www.suntimes.com/news/nation/11682964-418/supreme-court-strip-searches-ok.html

2.Indiana Governor Republican Mitch Daniels signed into law Senate Enrolled Act 1 which allows homeowners to shoot police officers entering their home. Proponents argue that the law is meant to keep police safe! But, “Democratic Rep. Linda Lawson, a former police captain, says the bill would create an ‘open season on law enforcement’.” http://www.addictinginfo.org/2012/03/23/indiana-governor-signs-bill-allowing-citizens-to-use-deadly-force-against-police-officers-into-law/

3.The Georgia legislature passed bill criminalizing abortion after 20 weeks with no exception  for rape or incest. “Commonly referred to as the ‘fetal pain bill’ by Georgian Republicans and as the ‘women as livestock bill’ by everyone else, HB 954 garnered national attention this month when state Rep. Terry England (R-Auburn) compared pregnant women carrying stillborn fetuses to the cows and pigs on his farm. According to Rep. England and his warped thought process, if farmers have to ‘deliver calves, dead or alive,’ then a woman carrying a dead fetus, or one not expected to survive, should have to carry it to term.”  Following a firestorm  over this remark, the Act was amended to allow abortion in those situations considered “medically futile”, i.e. one in which a woman’s life or health is threatened. However,  mental or emotional health,including suicide,mental illness etc are specifically excluded. And, “In order for a pregnancy to be considered ‘medically futile,’ the fetus must be diagnosed with an irreversible chromosomal or congenital anomaly that is ‘incompatible with sustaining life after birth.’ The Georgia ‘fetal pain’ bill also stipulates that the abortion must be performed in such a way that the fetus emerges alive. If doctors perform the abortion differently, they face felony charges and up to 10 years in prison.      http://readersupportednews.org/news-section2/314-18/10765-at-11th-hour-georgia-passes-qwomen-as-livestockq-bill

The above decisions are not occurring in a vacuum; they are, in fact, related. Each situation addresses our right to privacy, and our right to feel secure in our own homes and in our own skin. Each involves some form of government intrusion. It is ironic that these decisions are made and supported by Republicans legislators and judges who generally stand for a citizen’s right to privacy and protection from government intrusion. The very group which attacks ObamCare insurance requirements as intrusive, and unconstitutional.

1.In the early 70’s I was a social worker at The Ohio Reformatory For Women, a maximum security prison. I had been hired under a minority recruitment program to address racial issues within the prison, given my field of graduate study. I believe prison officials hired me to avoid hiring an African-American while getting credit for a minority hire. They had no intention of addressing racial issues. I was warned the approved Racial Justice Program I organized was not to be implemented even though it had been officially approved;the approval was for “show only”. Despite this warning, I conducted race relations training for corrections officers, taught a course in Black History at the school, ran racial mediation groups for Black and white inmates, emceed a Black Culture awareness group using local Black achievers once a week, set aside a Black media/book center within the library etc. I was fired 8 months later for “teaching these N*****s they are human beings”.

At Christmas time each social worker was handed a polaroid camera to take a single photo of each inmate which she could then mail home to her family. We were admonished to take a good shot because we were allotted one shot per inmate, no matter how bad that shot was. I warned the corrections officer overseeing the operation that I am a horrible photographer and he could be sure I would screw up at least one photo. “One shot, Annarino! That’s the rule,” he responded. I did fairly well until my camera slipped and I cut off the head of one woman. Let’s call her “Sally”. We looked at one another in horror. She had nothing to send home to her children, no Christmas gift. I explained to the officer, and I took a second shot. I placed the headless photo in the trash can. When the administrator arrived and asked the corrections officer how things went, he informed her I had taken an extra shot, which she demanded I return to her. I had already given the good shot to Sally. She was told she could have only one photo and must return the second shot. I searched the can, but could not find the bad shot, hoping it would be accepted in place of the good shot. Sally insisted she had only the second photo.

The corrections officer was told to take Sally into the bathroom to do a strip search. Sally begged me to do it instead, preferring a woman over a man. Other inmates indicated to me by “sign” that he was not one a woman should be alone with. I reluctantly agreed to do it. I was told to check mouth, throat, anus and vagina. Seriously? How could  a Polaroid hide there?

Once inside the bathroom, Sally went immediately raised and pressed her hands to a wall, feet spread and pulled back. Obviously, this was not her first time. I explained I had never done such a thing, and had no need to do it as I accepted her word.

Sally insisted, “You must do it. They will ask you, and if you say you didn’t they will send him in. Please don’t let him near me. You have to help me.”

“OK,” I replied, but you have to tell me how to do it.”

So, Sally instructed me in the proper way to  do a strip search. I did the pat down along her right and left flank, top to bottom and back up. Then the inside seams of her legs,the frontal cross and down then up. I used as light a touch as possible, apologizing every few seconds. Sally indicating it was OK, not to worry. I thought I was finished, but Sally then advised me I still had to do the internal search. She removed her dress and undergarments over my protests, insisting I had to finish it or “he” would. She opened her mouth so I could peer down her throat. I looked  for a Polaroid photo hiding inside her throat! This was absurd. Drugs? Maybe. Photo? Crazy. Sally then spread her legs so I could reach inside her vagina and anus.

“NO! If that useless photo is so important you would hide it in your vagina or anus, you can keep it! No one deserves this disgrace for a stupid photograph; not you, and not I.”

Outside the bathroom the administrator and corrections officer waited. I snarled at them, “It is done. There was no photo. Never do this to anyone on my caseload again.” I later told the inmates on my caseload to never get into a situation requiring a strip search! I would never do another one.

I know that prison security is always an issue, for protection of both the corrections officers and the inmates. Drugs, weapons, contraband of any kind pose a threat. But, and Justice Breyer would agree, corrections officers ought to have a reasonable suspicion someone may be hiding something which threatens security before conducting a strip search. Reasonableness should be a matter for court review. The 5 Justices, all Republican appointees, have abdicated their judicial oversight responsibility, failing to protect an innocent citizen, Mr. Florence, from jailhouse abuse. We can’t simply rely on the sound judgment of prison workers. Ask Sally.

2.When can a citizen shoot or kill a police officer for simply doing his job? Anytime according to Gov. Mitch Daniels (R), Indiana. The law he signed was passed in response to a recent Indiana Supreme Court decision. “According to the Evansville Courier Press, an Evansville resident fought a police officer who followed him into his house during a domestic dispute call. ‘The state Supreme Court found that officers sometimes enter homes without warrants for reasons protected by the law, such as pursuing suspects or preventing the destruction of evidence. In these situations, we find it unwise to allow a homeowner to adjudge the legality of police conduct in the heat of the moment,’ the court said. ‘As we decline to recognize a right to resist unlawful police entry into a home, we decline to recognize a right to batter a police officer as a part of that resistance.”

In this case, the court acknowledged police sometimes enter a home unlawfully, recognizing those situations where warrantless entry is justified, but expecting that safety of both police and citizen is best served by reducing conflict levels when passions are raised. This is much different than the prior case, where a calm citizen, is in custody and control, within the confines of a jail – not in his own home. In the home setting,police officers are in the dark as to possible weapons and their location. They were responding to a volatile domestic violence situation, the threat to harm someone was the very  basis of their intervention. It was a fluid enterprise. In this case, the court did not abdicate its role. It reviewed the facts and found no police misconduct. It did its job. As did the police.

This was not satisfactory to the Indiana’s legislature, nor its governor. Although Gov. Daniels almost vetoed it because it could lead to killings of police and citizens. This law, like the Stand Your Ground laws in Florida and elsewhere are loopholes for citizens to kill citizens, and for citizens to kill police officers while claiming self-defense. Indeed, in Trayvon Martin’s murder, the killer has not been asked to plead anything, even self-defense. Merely asserting the law’s existence has been enough  to avoid Mr. Zimmerman’s arrest. There are many people out there who think no police officers have the right to enter homes or property, even if there is a warrant. There are people who believe police have no right to  enforce laws designed to preserve safety and security for all citizens, who believe their victims are not entitled to police protection, whose gun purchases or possession cannot be regulated because it takes away their right to bear arms. When did the rights of bullies become paramount? If this case winds it  way to the U.S. Supreme Court, how will it rule? I dread the thought. People have a right to be secure in their homes. Right? Privacy rights are sacred.

3.Republican Governor Mitch Daniels (see 2 above) blames President Obama for the debate over women’s right to  privacy, but admits his party’s response could have been better. In an interview with Reuters, he stated “Where I wish my teammates had done better and where they mishandled it (women’s preventive health care) is … I thought they should have played it as a huge intrusion on freedom,” Daniels told Reuters. Maybe he should talk to Governor Nathan Deal (R) from Georgia, before HB 954 is signed into law. It appears Georgia’s Republican legislators are happy to invade a woman’s privacy. Not so, Gov. Daniels meant health insurance coverage decisions are an intrusion; not health care itself.

While president Obama advocates for women’s right to make their own health care decisions and reminds us in a recent video supporting Planned Parenthood: “For you and for most Americans, protecting women’s health is a mission that stands above politics, and yet over the past year you’ve had to stand up to politicians who wanted to deny millions of women the care they rely on and inject themselves into decisions that are best made between a women and her doctor.” President Obama recognizes something Georgia Rep. Terry England (R) does not, when he reminds us “Let’s be clear here — women are not an interest group…The are mothers,daughters, sister and wives.” He recognizes woman’s right to privacy within her own skin.

Will the U.S. Supreme Court recognize a woman’s right to privacy? that is the basis of Roe v. Wade. A woman’s right is recognized until the fetus is capable of living outside the womb. That time-line is being shortened by neonatal technology. This is why the Georgia law and laws in other states limiting what is considered a legal abortion, require a method resulting in a live birth. Such language is not included to protect women or fetal health and safety, but a political maneuver to challenge Roe v Wade. It is not a medical consideration, but a political one.

If Republicans really believe in privacy rights, how can they not believe in a women’s right to  make a legal medical decision with her doctor; not, with the legislature, nor with the police. Will miscarriages now be subject to court review in Georgia? Will doctors who cannot abort a fetus and maintain its survival be criminally charged?  The law says they  will. Will courts who hear challenges to such laws trust women and their doctors as easily as Justice Kennedy trusts jailers?

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EASE ON DOWN THE ROAD

EASE ON DOWN THE ROAD
Louise Annarino
March 28,2012

We were driving south on I-71 on a crisp Fall day; my companion, a strong and wise African-American man, seated beside me. We talked and laughed, settling into conversation dragged from the depths of thoughts only shared after a car trip exceeds 30 minutes, and hours on the road loom ahead. The road was straight but our thoughts veered back and forth across the lanes of ideas, enjoying the creative energy generated by years of friendship. Occasionally, the CB radio crackled to life with the comment of a trucker, warning others of a “black and white” in the median at mile marker 102. the chatter of truckers was soothing until it focused on another black and white threat – us.

As we passed a truck, the verbal assaults began.

“ I just saw a ‘Co…’ with a piece of white ‘Cu..’ drive past.”
“ F…ing Bi…’ needs a lesson, dude. Oughta’ hang the ‘N…..’ first.”
“ Nah, make him watch us show her what a real man is like first.”
“Then bring out the rope.”

We turned to one another, my companion’s hand stopping me as I reached out to turn off the CB. “No”, he warned, “We need to know what they are saying.”

After describing our car to other truckers, the discussion continued with racial and sexual slurs, and threats of violence. One trucker announced that if he saw us he would drive us off the road. Others threatened worse.

I continued to drive. The only sign of my companion’s distress, a tic in his cheek from clenching his teeth. I could not contain my anger, which fell with tears across my cheeks. “Don’t cry”, he said. When I replied that I could not help it. He explained that tears are a luxury people of color cannot afford. I stopped crying at the truth of that comment. It takes courage to face such hate with equanimity. Allowing one to feel anything while under attack weakens one’s response. It is not safe to take time to cry, shout or even run away. We simply kept driving, and listening. Alert in a landscape unfamiliar to me, the landscape of racism.

This was not our first experience with racism, and would not be our last. But it is the one which awakened in my white soul a deeper understanding. As we approached the first truck we would need to pass, my friend told me to wave and smile as we drove by. This made little sense to me but I trusted him to know better than I what we must do. So, we waved and smiled. We continued this strategy every time we passed a truck. With each successive pass, the dialogue among the truckers shifted from outrage to discomfort; and, finally, to indifference.

During these hours of racial confrontation, I reviewed the entire history of racism: being herded into holding prisons, boarded on ships, sold at auction, whipped or maimed for running, casting down eyes, false smiles, steppin’ and fetchin’, Jim Crow and segregation, anti-miscegenation laws, red-lining, affirmative action and ruse of reverse racism… “Driving while Black!” Finally, we reached our destination. We had come so far for so little…simply glad to still be driving on the road together.

As I watch the coverage of Trayvon Martin’s murder, the inadequacy of response does not surprise me. Nor do the facts of this incident. African-American parents impart the rules for survival to their children, especially their sons, as if their lives depend upon them…because they do. While white parents are shocked, African-American parents are not even surprised. One white official being interviewed commented with great conviction, “No parent could ever anticipate such a thing happening to their child.” I had to shout at the screen in response, “You are so out of touch! The parent of every child of color knows better. This is exactly what they expect and fear!”

As others have commented, we have elected an African-American man president, but we still cannot protect African-American boys from “Walking Black”. President Obama is right when he says:

“It is absolutely imperative that we investigate every aspect of this. … But my main message is to the parents of Trayvon Martin. You know, if I had a son he’d look like Trayvon. And I think they are right to expect that all of us as Americans are going to take this with the seriousness it deserves and get to the bottom of exactly what happened.”
I hope so. We still have so far to go together.

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