President Obama speaks out about Trayvon Martin/The child who would be president

Finally, what we all have been waiting for. President Obama speaks out about Trayvon Martin. This story has been elevated to a level where our country - the world - must now pay attention. Finally, thanks to social media and the ability it creates to mobilize millions, this senseless tragedy may find justice, and a national conversation on race relations is exploding. Finally, millions of white people may now have an awareness about and a better understanding of "the talk" parents of black and brown children must have about "no matter how amazing and wonderful you are, you are not safe in this world" as their children are coming of age. Finally.

National Public Radio reports the story here, but below is an excerpt:

"When I think about that boy, I think about my own kids" and that "if I had a son, he'd look like Trayvon," President Obama just said when asked about the death of 17-year-old Trayvon Martin and the national discussion it has reignited about race relations in America.

Without commenting on what happened in Sanford, Fla., on Feb. 26, when 28-year-old George Zimmerman shot Martin, the president said it is "absolutely imperative that we investigate every aspect of this" to determine "exactly how this tragedy happened."

"All of us have some soul searching" to do, said the president, "to figure out how something like this happened."

And Obama said he has a message for Martin's parents: "If I had a son, he'd look like Trayvon. I think they are right to expect that all of us as Americans are going to take this with the seriousness this deserves and get to the bottom of what happened."

And here is a video clip of his comments: 



I would just add this: Yes, if President Obama had a son he would look like Trayvon. And at 17, the teenager who would become our president could have been Trayvon. Think about that and let it sink in...

The child who would be President

As a little kid.

At Trayvon's age.

And now our president. He made it.

I wonder what Trayvon might have become? 

Trayvon Martin could have been your son

 Trayvon Martin, killed at age 17, on Feb. 26, 2012

Most of us didn't know much about the murder of Trayvon Martin until it blew up on Twitter when the 911 tapes were released on March 16. The tapes essentially documented that a teenage African American kid was murdered in Florida while walking back from a store where he had bought Skittles and iced tea. Apparently those actions were grounds for "suspicious behavior," to be shot and killed.

When I listened to the tapes, I flew into a rage, a mama rage, and joined in the shared outrage on Twitter.  

If you've been paying attention, you know this story by now. You know that his shooter, Geroge Zimmerman, a "neighborhood watch" volunteer, has not yet been arrested. You know the Department of Justice is finally involved. And you know this story was silent in our national headlines for far too long. How did it take almost two weeks for most of us to learn about this? Somehow the senseless death of a black teenage kid just doesn't make the lede. But thanks to social media and a few dedicated journalists, the outrage, by this week, could no longer be ignored.

If you haven't been paying attention, catch up now. One of the best sources is NY Times journalist Charles M. Blow, who was one of the first to bring this story to a national audience in his March 16 column. He also has been relentless in his pursuit of the story, chronicling it all on his Twitter account. Another good source is Goldie Taylor, again on Twitter. Or Google "Trayvon Martin."

But here's the deal. The outrage is mostly polarized. Like it was with so many slain young African American men before Trayvon. And it is polarized in a specific way. We white people don't get how each death is so much more than the horror of the individual incident - it is most certainly that - but it is also the hundreds and hundreds of murders and lynchings that have come before, and the daily threat to any black person, but especially any black male over the age of 12, that this too could be your story. Any day. Any time. For any reason. 

The Grio just published this slideshow which sets Trayvon's murder in the terrible history of young men and women who have been killed before him. Watch, remember, and carry it forward. Because there will be more.

A couple of days ago, someone wrote a piece about white privilege and how we white people will never look suspicious like Trayvon Martin because of that privilege. Yes, but please stop. That is an obvious truth and not what this is about. This is about the senseless death of a young man, a young man that could be anyone's son. 


Your son. Our son. My son.


Write about that instead. Write about how white people, even if we are terribly upset about what happened, cannot begin to understand the depth of the outrage, sorrow and worry that black and brown people feel. Unless we have a black or brown son, spouse or loved one. Only then do we begin to step a little bit closer to that outrage, the despair, and the worry - because only then do we feel it from within the context of love and the deepest parts of our hearts.

I never would have understood this had I not raised a black son. He was first stopped and searched by the police at 13 and has been stopped many times since for no reason. His daily existence equates to "suspicious behavior" for far too many. I live with a constant worry of "what if." He has already been dragged under by the streets, by "the system," and by his own foolishness. Yet still he survives, trying to thrive. Actually just trying to live. And he knows, as sure the air he breathes, as sure the depth of his love for his own young son, that at 29, at any given moment, he could be the one in the cross hairs for "acting suspicious." 

Even if we have a Black president. Even if he was president.

That is our country's shared disgrace. That is the thing we must all understand and fight. 

March 21 Update: 
NPR has excellent coverage of this issue this morning. 

First, listen to this story about the response in a community in central Florida. Listen carefully to the differences in the black and white responses to this murder. My point exactly. 


Also, listen to this story that documents how the Black community forced this story into mainstream media through social media, the black press, individual journalists, and thousands of outraged individuals.

Older and werking it!

This is a trailer for an upcoming documentary about stylish New York older women. While their tres chic, over the top sense of style may or may not be you, I love the message: No matter your age, no matter your personal style, werk it girl! 

Remembering Whitney Houston

I still have her debut album, on vinyl, scratched with use and time. 

It was 1985. I remember listening to it over and over, and thinking it was the most amazing voice I had ever heard coming out of the most beautiful young woman I had ever seen. Three octaves smooth like butter. She became a staple in our home during the 80s and 90s, and my kids, born in '83 and '86, both remember growing up with her music. My daughter sang "The Greatest Love of All" in her middle school choir, and remembered all the words thanks to the constant rotation at home.





I have visceral memories of two of her movies, again related to my family.


We adopted viewing "The Preacher's Wife" as an annual holiday tradition, but my daughter, now 26, loved it so much she watched it over and over, year round.


Her favorite track from the movie:



And mine:



Just this morning, my almost 29 year old son and I were talking about her passing. He was visibly shocked and moved. His hard-core-rap-loving tough guy self, it turns out, had a soft spot for Whitney. He said "She was my girl. The Bodyguard. Oh my God." Me too, son, me too.





And who can forget her rendition of the Star Spangled Banner at the 1991 Super Bowl. The best, perhaps ever.





I remember her fading from my personal life soundtrack as troubles overtook hers and the hits slowly stopped coming. I was sad for her, but never stopped loving her music or hoping she would get over whatever demons gripped her and that she would come back. For us, for her.


Yet she is gone at 48. Preceded so recently by Don Cornelius, Etta James, Heavy D, and of course Michael Jackson. Others who left indelible marks on my life and the lives so many others. I feel so very sad about it all, this loss of artists/celebrities I never met. It's not the wrenching grief of losing a friend or a family member; it's sadness for the loss of people who gave us amazing music that is embedded deeply into our life's memories; artists who mark an era, a time, a place. Forever.


There is an irony when someone famous dies who has slipped into harder times, harder places. Like Michael Jackson, with Whitney's passing, we are flooded in every media/medium possible with tributes and clips of her good years, her greatest songs, her amazing talent. Last night when the news of her passing broke, Twitter was an online community conversation and remembrance. We forget the drama and difficulty. Instead, we remember the music, the gifts we all received, times when the music marked our lives. And we are grateful and in love all over again.


Rest in peace and music, Whitney.

Pariah - A Review

Last Friday, a group of friends came together to go see Pariah, a coming of age story featuring an African American lesbian teenager living in New York. It is a fabulous movie, specific to its characters and geography, but a coming of age story anyone could relate to. It was opening night for the movie and I was shocked and disappointed that the theater was not packed. In Minneapolis we have a huge GLBTQ community and we need to support films like this. But we were there and we loved it. I asked my friend Millicent if she would write a review and guest post it here. She agreed and it's great. But before you read it (below), watch the movie's trailer.








Pariah - A Review
by Millicent

Pariah was one of the best coming of age stories I have ever seen. Alike, the main character, was deeper than most teen characters are in films I’ve seen. She was tomboyish, but not overly so, like her best friend Laura. She liked alternative music, she was quiet and introspective. And she was a writer. Definitely not the stereotypical inner- city black, baby dyke.  Her butch appearance during school was different from what was inside her. I liked the duality in this 17 year old budding lesbian. She knew who she was; she was just trying to find out how to express it.

I can relate to Alike. I, too, am a Black lesbian who grew up in a big city. When I was young it was hard to just be ‘me’. I wasn’t hard enough for the fem girls, and I definitely wasn’t fem enough for the butch dykes. And reading and bike riding and going to foreign films didn’t always sit well with some of the people I knew back in the day. To be a person who thinks for yourself sometimes leaves you alone to find your own way. It takes strength to be an individual, and Alike learns this in the movie.

The movie was different in the way it chose to show where Alike’s conflict came from. Her mother was in denial, of course, but she had support from her father, her sister, and her best friend. The real battle was going on inside her. Could she have the guts to confront her mother? Could she allow herself to seek out others who had the same interests as she did without losing her best friend?  Could she find love and still be Alike? These are the issues she struggled with in the film, and unlike a lot of GLBT films that I see, she actually does something about her problems, and doesn’t die or get treated like dirt at the end. I don’t like tragedy for tragedy’s sake, and this film breaks the mold on typical ‘gay’ films.

It was great to see a rough dyke like Laura portrayed as a deeper character also. She was a good friend to Alike, and had issues with family and work. Her rugged exterior hid a softer side, and I think it was good to show mainstream audiences that these women are complex beings. What you see is not all there is. She reminded me of a lot of my friends from back home. I loved my rugged dyke girlfriends, and that tough exterior was and is often just a mask of who they really are.

Overall Pariah is a must-see for anyone wanting a coming of age story that is truthful and real. I liked it, and I may even buy a copy to add to my collection.