It’s time to change my photo signature. The Trayvon Martin trial is over and George Zimmerman was found innocent. When public anger was most vehement shortly after the death and before Zimmerman was charged, I had the photo taken as part of a small protest of the right to wear hoodies. They were never my fashion statement and unless it’s raining, they are decades too young in style for me.
I don’t agree with the verdict, but I understand the jurors may have needed to follow their instructions. My view is the moment guns are introduced into neighborhood watch programs the chances of similar tragedies rises tenfold. At that point police wannabes hide their frustrated desires under the cloak of doing good while they play at being sheriff. Zimmerman stepped over the line when he followed Martin against the advice of the police.
The story is continuing and I don’t know what will happen to Zimmerman or how this event changed or didn’t change him. That is now his story and it is the story of Martin’s family and friends to deal with their grief for the rest of their lives.
I am returning that small part of my interest in their lives to mine. That return to one’s own life is not always a small decision. In this case, for me, it is a small and easy decision though reading the news articles and watching television reports were reminders of a tragedy that belongs to all of us who believe we are somehow all connected as one.
I do grieve for Trayvon Martin and his family. It is a small tearless grief, a reminder of my own, but it is enough to feel it as a live thing moving through my heart. Hopefully, if my belief in the physics of God has any truth, it will flow to them as a faint, healing ray. I also grieve for Zimmerman. I understand foolishness and fear. I’ve felt both squeezing, constricting, belittling-of-the-soul emotions.