In the wake of the verdict and as we approach the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington, a renewed sense of faith entered my soul. We all just witnessed a miracle. This miracle didn’t come in the fantasy form we attribute with our conditioned imagination, but it was of biblical proportion. There was a crucifixion, a resurrection and a man-child named Martin who died for our sins, twice.
So far this summer has been a tsunami of civil and human rights. As Congressman John Lewis holds the pen that President Johnson used to sign the Voting Rights Act, the Supreme Court repealed it as if the ink was never dry.
Illegal nationals now suffer from abnormal rapid-eye movement as their Dream Act comes in the form of a broken escalator. Thirteen years is not a path to citizenship, it’s an Appalachian Trail that Lewis & Clark wouldn’t take in a Ford Expedition. Unfortunately, even this version is unlikely to pass in the House.
A lone star stood for hours as the people rallied around Wendy Davis’ filibuster, not just for the right to choose but to not close 37 out of 42 clinics in Texas that provide preventive and maternal health care. The governor countered her block by pushing the bill through with a battering ram while some conservatives probably celebrated at the best little whorehouse in Texas. I guess their pro-life stance supports a penal system, or should I say cycle, that just celebrated their 500th execution.
While Trayvon’s Skittles is proof that rainbow will never be the new black, same-sex marriage is finally federally recognized, but it’s on a case by state basis. A farm bill without food stamps, attempts to repeal universal healthcare, student loans where the interest rate has doubled; all are a reminder that this is not a free country.
It feels as if our government is suffocating us with legislative hate crimes. This is why love must be used as a verb. As we seek justice in the name of Trayvon, let’s fight with the best part of our hearts. It’s not easy to suppress the anger, rage and thirst for revenge. We want the hunter to be the hunted and the jury hung because we know lady justice is not blind but barren from all her miscarriages.
Still, we saw how people of all races and backgrounds came together in protest of the verdict. I felt Martin’s presence here on earth; Martin at the age of 17 in Sanford and Martin at the age of 39 in Memphis. Freedom riders then and their children now, striving for higher levels of respect and tolerance. Let’s not aim for some utopian unity that we may never reach tomorrow but an enhanced co-existence for today. Let’s renew our vows of purpose. Let’s not waste our energy making Paula Deen and Rachel Jeantel human stains but use our power to make them better human beings.
As I punch another hole in the wall, I find it harder to practice what I’m preaching. Despite Facebook reporting the highest number of unfriending/blocking in its history occurred the day after the verdict, we desperately need each other in this moment. Clicking a button last Sunday can’t compare to the “Bloody Sunday” in 1965 which led to larger marches in Montgomery, Alabama. Let’s help each other convert the negative to a positive charge because no one is immune to the harsh wake-up calls of history.
It takes courage to care. It takes patience to be considerate and mindful of how others feel. Through awkward adjustments of gentrification and as darker complexions shade gated communities that are predominantly melanin deficient, let us focus more on loving thy neighbor and less on neighborhood watch. This is about embracing pride and prejudice while evoking dignity.
As time passes and the demonstrations of solidarity continue, give us the strength to stand our ground with our feet planted in faith, knowing of that our actions moving forward, together, is God’s plan. #TrayvonMartinLuther
Special salute to Tom Joyner, Stevie Wonder, Bruce Springsteen, @MoreAndAgain, Jose V-quez, people who support the Cheerios commercial and everyone sacrificing their time, money, energy and occupation to occupy justice!
T. Better Baldwin is a creative mercenary and ethical lobbyist who was born, raised and resides in New York City.
