Monologue For Young Adults 3: Secession (4/31)

[This is an installation in a series I began in 2017. Each stands alone as its own piece.]

Monologue 1: Housing --  Monologue 2: Green Thumb

So like… how married are we to this whole “United” thing? Cause in theory it’s cute, but in practice… I just don’t see it, just like how I’ll never see every state cause I value my life. In my mind, the divide is already there. Three nations: The west coast and those four corner states, that big ol dusty midwest and the filthy south, and finally us up here - the OG 13 states, minus and adding a couple states. Shut up, I know my constitution or whateva.

 I’m just saying, I’ve noticed the trend. The people of the coasts and the people of the swamps and dustbowls are built different. Hell, each state’s basically already doing what it wants to anyway. At least my idea of keeping them all together in three pieces is better than the chaos of fifty tiny nations making treaties amongst each other like Europe.  People already ran away from that system once.  

What’s keepin us together? Honestly? Resources? Oil? Ugh fuckin oil; I’m tired of dinosaur juice. Let’s go back to buying fuel for horses. Which would probably come from farmers in the Midwest. But if they hold food hostage, they’re just as fucked up as we thought. Honestly, I’ll miss Chicago, Atlanta, and Houston the most. Oooo, and New Orleans. Shit, ok. Definitely gotta establish some sort of embassy system for the decent metropolitan areas trapped in Reagania.  

What? Oh, now, I would never name them - I don’t wanna take away their agency or nothin’ -  but obviously the middle would name themselves after Reagan. They don’t like being too current and love to cherry pick history, so it just makes sense. The west could be cool and go with Portlandia or like Big Reno, but they’d be surprisingly boring and go with Western United. That’s why it’s up to us in the east to be original and go with Freedia. Listen, if we can convince the queen of bounce music herself to move up here, that’s just a plus.

Word

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BlackFacers

In the past week,
there seems to be a sharp spike of fuckery in the world.
And yes, I do mean fuckery.

It started last week.
A white woman in Australia celebrated her 21st birthday.
Innocent enough until you hear it was African themed.
Yes, it was as bad as you might imagine. Worst, actually.
These Australians dressed in daishikis; they wore black face;
they wore warrior paint and painted their bodies black;
some even wore Native American headdresses.

Now, I've never been to Australia,
but are they really that culturally unaware?
The headdresses were the kicker for me.
No. I lied. It was the klansman. What even? Why? Why?!

Dear Australians and all other
non-dark skinned people around the globe,
you can attend an African themed event
without a smear of black paint across your cheek.
For goodness sake, some of you wore war paint and black paint on your skin.
That's not necessary!
Any and everyone would have gotten your costume without black face/skin.
There are even villages of white people in Africa. Did anyone dress up as a missionary or social worker at this party?
Expand your minds, evaluate your choices, and learn to be racially sensitive.
As you see, just because no one was there to be mad in the moment
doesn't mean there won't be a backlash waiting in the wings.



But no, oh no. That's not all.
The shenanigans continued that weekend
as folks got into the Halloween spirit.
The usual suspects were easy to find:
vampires, werewolves, wrecking balls running away from Miley Cyrus.
But a few decided to up their ghosts and spooks game up.
A pair of white guys thought up the perfect Halloween costume:
George Zimmerman and Trayvon Martin.
The guy dressed as Trayvon Martin would of course have to dress in black face and have a bloody gunshot hole in his hoodie.
You could add Skittles and an Arizona Iced Tea, but only if you were willing to go the extra mile.
And though the Trayvon pictured here doesn't have those items, other white men who picked the same costume did.

I'm unsure as to why this seemed like a good idea,
but let me just make it clear for you as your adoptive black friend,
it's not.

Black face aside, you are making light of a tragedy.
A very recent tragedy, one with so much racial tension behind it.
Rule of thumb, don't go as a murdered person.
The only funny or clever murder costumes involve zombies.
...oh gawd, if I see a Zombie Trayvon Martin, white or black, I'll lose it.
And not in a good way.

Let's think about it.
Dressing up as a dead Trayvon Martin is virtually
the same as someone walking around with a burnt yamaka
and calling themselves a Holocaust survivor.
It's not funny. It's not cool. It's offensive.

On the same note, I'm not a big fan of Anne Frank costumes, either.
Maybe let's chill out with that as well.



I have to admit, however, those two events are not the cause of this post.
No, I came across a photo on Twitter today that was just plain wrong.
Four white men came together to form a Jim Crow quartet.
Looking at the photo again forced my left palm to my forehead, and now I must type the remainder of this blog with one hand.

But seriously, what is this malarkey?

I thought it was agreed blatant racism was over.
Black face aside again, Jim Crow was a minstrel.
It was a big slap in black America's face.
Racist to its core with no way around it.
So why would you ever dress up as a damn minstrel
if you aren't performing a rendition of Spike Lee's Bamboozled?
"Oh, my great grandpappy was a minstrel, so I'm paying homage to him."
Oh, so you come from a line of ignorant bigots.
Thanks for that insight into your back story.
[That's not what any of them said, but I can just hear it.]


Now, I'm no stranger to face paint on Halloween.
I myself have donned white face in order to portray
Dave Chappelle's news anchor character Chuck Taylor.
But there were no racial undertones or history behind it.
I just wanted to be radical and throw off white people one year.
While I was out dressed like that,
I saw a white guy in a Rastafarian get up
with black or brown face on.
I really wish I had said something, anything,
but I didn't think I had the leverage.
A young fool, I was.

I attended a party this weekend,
not even a Halloween party,
but I wore my "I'm happy to be here" mask anyway.
It turned out to be a bunch of white kids from my college
that I haven't seen in years.
And almost instantly I was "that black guy" again.
A guy or two were so friendly towards me, it was annoying.
They complimented my clothing, said I was cool,
how they could never pull off what I wore or did.
Then a white friend told me, "All white people wish they were black."
I scoffed at his lame joke, but I'm starting to wonder
what if it's not a joke.

White people in the media have been under fire lately
for appropriating black culture and making a mockery of it.
But what if they're sincere?
What if they admire us so much they want to be us,
so much so they don't realize how ridiculous or racist they're being?
Does it excuse their behavior? No, I don't believe so.
It's been said that white people love black culture, not black people.
However, there should be fewer pitchforks and torches
and more open conversations, no matter how frustrating they can be.
Some white people will never learn if we don't talk to them,
my fellow Americans (Australians, etc.) of color.
Otherwise, we'll just continue to suffer
throbbing forehead veins until the end of time.


Word

On Trial for a Murder He Died In

This past Saturday around 9 or 10pm
I watched Twitter closely
as I spotted the first tweet announcing
the jury in the Zimmerman trial had reached a verdict.
At the moment, I was playing a card game with my friend,
but I knew this moment in history was worth multitasking.

Minutes later the verdict was announced:
Zimmerman found innocent on all charges.
Acquitted.
I felt sick.
I understood from the proceedings of the trial
Zimmerman would not catch every charge thrown his way,
but not a single one?

My immediate rage was directed at the jury,
six white women who did not convict this man.
Then I realized what proof they had to go off of,
and aimed my disbelief towards the prosecution.
Could they not gather the necessary evidence
to send Zimmerman to prison?
Did such evidence ever exist?
What more could have been done?

All cylinders fired as I finally turned
to Zimmerman and his attorney Don West.
They smirked and laughed in the wake of their victory.
A tweeter mentioned, "You'd smile too if you just beat a murder case."
Albeit true, it doesn't make it any less disgusting.

Many people across various social media outlets
have mentioned that this is not a racial situation,
but that it is a failing of the justice system and process.

Believe or not, I spotted one person of color
not necessarily defending Zimmerman
but presenting his case in a light I found interesting,
and in fact almost fell for.
The gist of his argument goes as follows:

• We only know Zimmerman's side of the story, not Trayvon's.
• There was still cause for reasonable doubt for the jury (as far as motives are concerned).
• When faced with a situation involving a suspect perceived as dangerous at night and alone, most of us would have acted first before even allowing ourselves to be placed in danger. Strike first or lie flat, I suppose.

In the heat of my anger,
I allowed his points to cool me down.
It wasn't until the next morning
I began to debunk them.

• Rachel Jeantel, a witness in the trial, portrays Trayvon's side of the story, though secondhand.
• Zimmerman was told not to pursue. The purpose of a neighborhood watch program is to WATCH, not to take action. Zimmerman should have stood by and continued to watch Trayvon at the very most. Pursuing a possible suspect puts yourself in danger, a danger which Zimmerman obviously felt equipped for.
• With that in mind, Zimmerman pursued Trayvon ready for a violent confrontation before Trayvon displayed any violent tendencies. Zimmerman was prepared to strike first because he already viewed the kid he was following as a no-good hoodlum. 

As a whole, the verdict leaves me feeling unsafe.
While the trial was not a matter of color,
the crime without a doubt is.
Zimmerman, a large-enough white* man,
looked down on Trayvon, a black seventeen year old,
as suspicious for walking around a gated community with a hoodie on.
To me, it screams racial profiling.
Apparently there had been break-ins around the gated community,
but who's to say it was all by one criminal?
Who's to say the race of these home invaders?
Did Zimmerman have a description to go off of, to look out for?

The most vile part of the trial and media's take on the situation
is the criminalization of Trayvon Martin.
Pictures of him throwing up the middle finger and sporting gold grills are shown.
I'm almost positive those pictures were flown around last year
and it ended up being another kid who looked like Trayvon in the pictures,
but I may have my facts wrong on that one.
They attempted to bring up old charges such a theft on school grounds
- which were dropped - and suspensions he racked up in high school.
If these reports of Trayvon's past are true,
it does not matter.
Zimmerman did not know Trayvon personally.
He did not know his record.
There is no proof Trayvon ever tried to break into someone home in that neighborhood.
In any case, one with a criminal past does not a criminal forever make a person.

Back in April, I stopped blogging after the Boston Marathon bombing.
I had just spent a week in Boston and left the day before the bombing occurred.
I was in shock. I didn't know how to handle the situation.
The same week,
the gun regulation law requiring background checks was overturned.
There was one other piece of unbelievable news that week,
but my memory is failing to recall it.
The point being, I was scared.
Scared to the point of not knowing how to react.
And so I spent the next few months without writing.

After the verdict in the George Zimmerman case,
I was perhaps ten times as scared in comparison to the bombing.
The bombing was malicious and affected the country,
but it was an isolated incident.
The killing or imprisonment of an innocent black man or woman
is far too common and directed to the community at what seems like all times.

Realizing this is what turned my fear into rage, my rage into a seeking for justice.
As it happens, my yearn for justice reminded me why I wanted to become a writer.
My goal as a writer has always been to educate others of the struggles of the not-so-privileged, of those different from them. I see how important that goal is now. When we don't understand each other, people are convicted of crimes before they're  even made a suspect, people are persecuted for their beliefs, people are told they don't deserve the same rights or that they are an abomination.

I want to live in an America
where every citizen can
respect, understand, and love each other.
Judging from the verdict
of the Zimmerman case
- the mere fact such an event transpired -
I realize we are far from it.
But I still need to work towards it.
I hope you'll do the same
in your own way.
Word.



[pictures taken from Buzzfeed's photo coverage of the NYC Trayvon Martin march]
*edit - Zimmerman's father is white American and his mother is from Peru, making him "white Hispanic" or any other term you can call to mind. - 7/15/13, 5:17PM