Island Soul City Dreams

I love New York, but my heart has a Caribbean beat. It pulsates to the traditions of my people. Attuned to the rhythms of this City, I stay West Indian to the bone. I reflect. I analyze. I speak my mind. ~ I Keep it Irie ~

Trayvon: Oh Jah, How Many More?

Trayvon Martin

I am about to sign a petition. But first I want to say why. In a few minutes, when I have finished writing this, I am going to support ColorOfChange.org in asking the Department of Justice to arrest George Zimmerman for killing Trayvon Martin. It is a petition that also calls for an investigation of the Sanford, Florida Police for misconduct in handling the matter.

Since Trayvon’s tragic shooting on February 26, I resisted writing about it because I think I write too much about death; well at least on this page. But this is not just a story about death; this is nothing short of a cold-blooded murder. And there should be justice. This is about justice for the life of another innocent black youth gunned down because he looked “suspect.” According to authorities, Trayvon, 17, was walking through a gated Sanford community on his way home from the store, unarmed and carrying only his cell phone and the last purchase of his life – Skittles candy and an iced tea – when Zimmerman, 28, shot and killed him. The neighborhood-watch captain, Zimmerman, from all reports, dreams he’s a policeman. And though his father says, “he’s not racist, he’s Hispanic,” it remains debatable if Zimmerman would have reacted differently had Trayvon not been black.

Sure, I wasn’t there, but like thousands of people following the story over the last three weeks and then listening to the 911 tapes this past weekend,  it is beyond me, why Zimmerman has not been arrested. I didn’t know young Trayvon, but my heart bleeds with and for his family and friends. I pray God’s peace and comfort to them. I have gone through all kinds of emotions reading story after story about his death. There are moments when I boil with anger. At other times, the sentimental me literally burst into tears. For a few fleeting seconds, my faith forces me to reason that God is using Trayvon’s death for a bigger cause than we all can see. But then for what seems like an eternity, I picture that poor boy scared, lying on the grass, helpless, wondering why, begging for his life and seeing all his dreams flash before him before the darkness ensued. He could have been my little brother or cousin. At that age, he could have been my son. Nothing in any article posits any logic as to why Zimmerman pulled that trigger and ended the life of this seemingly promising young man.

As long as Zimmerman is out there, somewhere walking around playing cop, the lives of our sons are in danger. As long the Sanford, Fla. Police refuse to arrest him, there is no justice for this senseless killing. It agonizes me to hear about these tragedies. Too many of our streets are painted red with the blood of our black sons. Now is the time for justice. So, I am about to sign the petition. Please, join me on the dotted line. RIP Trayvon.

~ I Keep it Irie ~

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