My son has been known to scarf down Skittles candy and delight in the sweetness of an iced tea. He can be naughty at times, but he is my child and I couldn't imagine life without him.
And I couldn't imagine his life being senselessly taken away.
I'm not going to debate what happened to Trayvon Martin last month. Only two people know for sure and one of them is dead. For anyone willing to listen, the facts speak for themselves.
This incident has put a mirror up to my face. My own issues with judgement. I have made assumptions about the young man coming toward me down the sidewalk. The way I have surreptitiously locked my doors at a stoplight while driving through "da hood". But I don't go looking for trouble. And I know far too many bright, witty, intelligent, gifted, young black men who are up to ALL good to paint them with a broad brush. Truth is, our irrational fears and ugly generalizations make me sad and fearful for my children. Especially my son.
If keeping Isaiah safe were only as easy as throwing away all of his hoodies...
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