Perspectives

It’s been one week since the verdict in the George Zimmerman trial was decided. J and I were out with friends to celebrate his birthday when the verdict was announced. I was on my way to the restroom of a crowded venue when I heard shouting and glanced up at a TV mounted on the ceiling to see Zimmerman’s face and the word “acquitted.” I will admit that my first thought was that there might be rioting, much like what occurred in L.A. after the Rodney King case was announced in 1992. I hurried on to the restroom to be on the safe side. Over the past week, I have read commentary and watched interviews from both sides, seen long diatribes on Facebook outlining people’s reactions, and discussed the case with family and friends.

This case has captivated many because it is so multifaceted. Issues of race, age, character, and the rights of gun owners were thrust into the spotlight. As I followed this case in the aftermath of the verdict, it struck me that one conversation that seems to be missing is our ability as human beings to look at a situation from a perspective outside of our own life experiences. As a nation, we have become less empathetic toward one another in exchange for a false sense of security. When I think too long on this, it distresses me to imagine the kind of society we are leaving for future citizens of this country, including my own children.

As a mother, I feel compassion for any woman who has ever lost her child, but especially for mothers who have lost children unexpectedly and to violence. To have invested all of your love and energy to this life, and then to have that life taken by another would be truly devastating.

I can never know what it feels like to be a young, black man in the United States walking alone at night in a predominately white neighborhood. But I do know what it’s like to be a woman walking alone at night in a rough neighborhood. Gripping car keys between tensed fingers, always anticipating what’s around the next corner, heart thumping in ears, the constant urge to turn around and see what’s behind you. I grew up with cautionary tales of girls and women who had been overpowered, violated, or left for dead. Every news story about sexual violence and every date rape episode of Law & Order reminded us that the world could be a dangerous place to be female. If I had grown up listening to the Rodney King story or felt like I was under a cloud of suspicion every time I wore a hoodie, I might feel the need to defend myself if someone approached me in the dark to ask me what I was doing. I’ll never know for sure, but I can imagine it. That’s part of our humanity; being able to imagine what an experience must be like for someone else.

I find it interesting that the characters of both Zimmerman and Martin have been so thoroughly dissected by the general public. Neither man would have been in the running for sainthood, but I know very few adults or teenagers who are perfect. Their characters, beyond what happened the night of the run-in, seem irrelevant to me. As a former high school teacher, I once taught a first hour English class in which I am fairly certain ¾ of the students were high each morning. These were low-to-middle income white and Native American students from a rural area. While I don’t condone the use of illicit drugs, marijuana is not associated with increased aggression, so unless we are trying to prove that Martin was doing something that many of his adolescent peers try at one time or another, I really don’t think we have proven much.

Zimmerman had lawfully applied for and obtained a firearm, and according to the laws of his state, had the legal right to carry it and defend himself. Feeling threatened, Zimmerman produced his firearm and shot. There’s a reason that when individuals enter into careers in law enforcement, they are required to have extensive training in conflict resolution, mediation, and acceptable situations in which to discharge a firearm under extreme emotional stress. As far as I’m aware, there are no such demands put on individuals who are applying for permits to carry. As a citizen of this country, I’m not comfortable with the idea that the average layperson has the skills necessary to make decisions under extreme emotional stress whose consequences have such potentially grave outcomes. That certainly seemed to be the case in this situation, as it was later discovered that Martin was unarmed.

While many will disagree, it’s my assertion that this is the failure of a society, which in its attempts to feel secure in a post-9/11 era, has created a monster by loosening gun control policies. Like an overzealous parent, intent on protecting their offspring, we have created a nation that is anxious, suspicious, and quick to react. Benjamin Franklin once said, “Those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.” (Like the liberty to allow your 17-year-old to walk to the Quick Shop for a snack without getting shot.)

If I leave out matters of race, personal character, and gun control, this case boils down to one thing for me: Trayvon Martin was not an angel, but he was an unarmed, 17-year-old kid. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and predict that there aren’t many of us (myself included) who can say that we always thought clearly or made good decisions at 17. George Zimmerman was a 28-year-old man who had undertaken the responsibility of owning a potentially lethal weapon. That kind of responsibility should dictate that when a 911 dispatcher tells you to get back into your car and go home, that the police are on their way, and there is no imminent bodily threat, you do it. You don’t get out of your car and follow the person of concern on a misguided vigilante mission. If Zimmerman had acted with the kind of maturity I expect from someone allowed to carry a loaded weapon, Trayvon Martin would be alive today.

It’s important to me that J and I raise R and K to be the kind of people who have empathy for others. When they’ve hurt someone, we ask, “How would you feel if…?” We try to teach them to look at situations from many perspectives before making rash judgments, even if those perspectives are outside of their personal experiences. We ask, “What would it be like to…?” I wonder what the world would be like if more adults asked themselves these same questions.