With a smirk that seemed to drip smug superiority, an acquaintance shoved his iphone at me from across the lunch table. “Do you know who this is?” expecting that I wouldn’t be able to give the correct answer. Fortunately, I knew EXACTLY who that was. And I was ready to tell him.
“Uh…yeah! Oh, what’s his name, I know him he’s a rapper…” I replied. Betrayed again by that too-familiar, tip-of-my-tongue feeling, I thought.
“No,” he replied, “Look again.” His smugness turned patronizing.
“No? Yeah! That IS him! He’s famous, I’ll look him up.” I had barely pulled out my cell phone when my lunch companion answered his own question with a chuckle.
“That’s Trayvon Martin.”
I looked up to make sure he was serious. I mean, he did chuckle. But no, he was just amused, not telling a joke, not playing a prank. HE WAS SERIOUS. He handed me his phone so that I could read the chain email sent to him by another acquaintance. After a quick scan, I was annoyed. It made statements about how this was a picture of the “real” Trayvon, not those sweet football jersey pics that the biased liberal media was running. There was something in there about how this picture “changes” the story. They didn’t say WHY it changes the story, but the message is obvious. I mean, look at that scowling, beefy, Black, tattooed dude! Who wouldn’t fear for their lives and shoot him?
I gave him his phone back.
A rather flattering picture of The Game. Long sleeves, nice jeans, I ain’t mad. Hey, does anyone else notice that he DOES NOT look like a 17 year old?
After 10-15 seconds of searching, I found the actual answer to his question, not that he even wanted it anymore. The picture was of The Game, an LA rapper, former member of G-Unit. Now I was the one shoving my phone in his face, my Google search for The Game showed pictures and his given name (Jayceon Terrell Taylor). I’ll admit that I felt a little smug, as he compared the tattoos of The Game to the tattoos in the fake picture of “Trayvon”, and told me I was right. (“You’re right” is not as good as “You’re right, and I’m sorry, and I’ll reply to the email chain about the fact that this is wrong,” but it’s better than doubling-down on stupidity. In this day and age, hearing “You’re right” is, frankly, a miracle.)
The subject changed briefly. Then my lunchmate asked some ill-conceived question along the lines of, “even though that wasn’t really a picture of Trayvon, wouldn’t you be afraid for your life if you were in a fight with that rapper guy?” Irritation turned to anger. But I did not want to make a scene in the restaurant. His question was so rude and offensive, that I would’ve spent my whole lunch hour to pick it apart anyway. So I sternly stated what I felt was truth: Zimmerman followed Martin on foot after being told not to, and brought a gun to a non-fight. Whatever happened that night, Martin did not deserve to die for it. The subject changed again and it stayed changed. I looked calm. I told myself I was calm. But lunch soon ended and I wasn’t really calm.
I have the problem that most people have when getting utterly blindsided by stupidity. I think of 100 brilliant things to say after the moment is passed. I regretted that I had been concerned about making a scene. Trapped in politeness, I might have let ignorance prevail. And then the word microaggression flashed into my head.
Microaggression is a social psychological term that means exactly what you’d think. A microaggression is tiny: these little offenses build and build. Each offense seems so small, that nothing can be done, but still, they are insidious and destructive somehow. It’s death by 1000 razor-cuts. It’s racial or sexual or age-related or weight-related. It could be intentional or accidental or passive-aggressive, and it’s rarely easy to tell which type has occurred. I worked hard to minimize that conversation, so that I wouldn’t look and feel as angry as I felt (because God-forbid, I reflect a stereotype of angry Black women while fighting a stereotype of delinquent Black men):
I mean, who gives a crap about a dumb chain email? Didn’t those things die out with the 90’s (Okay, the 90’s are still alive in my mind, but chain emails? Really??? Too afraid to share it publicly on Twitter? Instagram that picture. Geeze.) How many people could have seen that email, and who cares what that guy thinks anyway? I don’t. Ha, ignorance is just alive and well, I guess.
It was all an automated exercise in shoving. SHOVE-SHOVE-SHOVE the anger down until I can deal with it later…knowing that later might never come. Unfortunately, you cannot shove anger and stress down without consequences. Microagressions, and the pattern of being offended, not feeling the right or power to do anything about it, shoving it down, rinsing, repeating…all adds up to seriously high rates of hypertension, pregnancy complications, and shorter life spans in the Black community.
So, I had to look at that anger, for my own sake. I realized that it was the email, and the writer and sharers of that email, that really made me mad. My companion’s willingness to believe the lies and waste my lunch with foolishness that had been debunked here and here over a year ago was not helping his case at any rate, but it was mostly the email. Here’s why:
1) Tattoos are not an invitation to be followed home from a Skittles run and shot in the heart. Martin wasn’t even tatted up anyway. Regardless, he may not have looked like a cute little-leaguer. But even if he was 9 feet tall, wearing a hoodie screenprinted with, “I’m big, Black, and dangerous,” he should have been able to go to the store for Skittles, and come back alive.
2) Zimmerman might not have been racist (yes, I really believe that Zimmerman might not have been a racist), but that email is DEFINITELY racist. It reminds me of a scene in the movie Hurricane. A violent shooting occurs, and Denzel Washington’s character (a famous boxer) is pulled over the same night while driving home with his friend. The officers inform him that they are looking for the suspects: two Black men in a Pontiac. Denzel replies sarcastically, “Any two will do?” He’s arrested, convicted, and sentenced to life in prison for a crime he did not commit. The point being that as long as a Black person gets punished when something bad happens, who cares which Black person it is? I imagine that whoever constructed that string of lies and sent it as an email didn’t care whose picture he used, as long as the guy was big and Black (nevermind that The Game looks to be at least twice Martin’s age). “Hey, they all look alike, any Black man will do…copy-paste…sent!” Disgusting.
3) There are always, ALWAYS two sides to every story. HOWEVER: this is NOT one of those, “there’s blame to be had on everyone’s part” situations. Zimmerman probably did fear for his life. But he is the reason that there was a fight and a gun in that spot on the wet concrete that night. I’m not saying he should be sent to jail for life, just for being a dummy with a gun one night. But the message of the chain email was pretty clearly: “Trayvon wasn’t an angel, so it’s sorta okay that he’s dead now.” Huh? And it’s sorta okay if a stripper is raped, or if the class clown is bullied? Even if Martin smoked weed, had problems with fighting at school, and a possible past incidence of theft, it is NOT OKAY to send chain emails about how it’s sorta understandable that he’s dead now.
4) People are going to read that email, and believe it, and share it because they want it to be true. Sadly, there are still people who need a reason to be okay with the death of a Black teenager. Notice, they are already okay with it, they just want a reason to soothe the mind. “If Martin was as tough as he looks in that picture, anyone would have to use a gun on him, right?” Nope. Still wrong. Tough guys should be able to get Skittles too, walk home, and protect themselves from the unidentified man with a gun who is following them. Nice try though.
5) People who read that email and don’t believe it, but don’t feel like finding the truth might not ever find out the truth. People who know exactly why the email is false might not take the time to reply to the sender, and let them know that the email has no basis in fact. And so ignorance could not simply persist, but spread unchecked!
You know, I think therein is an answer. Ignorance cannot be fought with anger, or complaining; it must be fought with honesty, with information. We all have options. No one is trapped, if they have truth and are willing to share it. That’s where you and I and all those people who like to click the forward button come in.
The real Trayvon, 9 days prior to his death. (Courtesy: snopes.com)
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