Picket lines and picket signs

I can’t imagine what it must have been like to walk home, armed with only a can of iced tea and skittles, and minutes later be ambushed and murdered for no more apparent reason than the color of your skin. To listen to the 911 tapes and hear this child, Trayvon Martin, screaming for help…devastating. I listened to it over and over again. Crushed is the only word that comes to mind to describe the heartbreak I felt. I cannot begin to imagine how difficult this must be for his mother and father.

As much as people hate “online activism”, there’s something to be said when WE use social media to fight against the injustices in the world. It wasn’t until the pictures of different people wearing hoodies was I able to fully grasp the weight of Trayvon Martin’s murder. To see little black and white boys, adults of all ages and races, all wear hoodies, was powerful to me. This could have happened to any of our children. What a powerful statement.

Yesterday, I attended the rally at Providence Missionary Baptist Church. As several different speakers approached the podium, the energy from the crowd gave them the strength to speak the truth.

Later, a friend and I discussed what actions we can take towards changing the mindsets of people in the African-American community. Because truthfully, many of us are not interested in politics. I’ve never had any desire to learn the intricacies of government and policy. It’s so complex. But we have to find a way to get people 1)interested and 2)inspired to act. Faith (that things will change), without works, is DEAD.

So, what do we do now?

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