trayvon martin

I find myself in this place again. I am numb. I feel empty. I almost have no words.
In 2012, around the time of the birth of my son, I had a similar feeling. Trayvon Martin was killed. I was pregnant with a black male in a world that was not ready for him.

It’s like the writers and producers sat around and said, “Let’s put all the most f*cked up recent cultural references in one season and be the most forward, innovative, social justice show out there!” It’s literally the exploitation and voyeurism of our pain on a platter for the world to gawk at and consume.

You can’t deal either, can you? Of course you can’t. So listen: let’s stop talking about this scum-sucking-bottom-feeder and focus on something happy. Like a puppy finding a home and a job.

"When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned."

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