acquitted

I wrote these words just after learning of the verdict of the George ZImmerman trial. Now, after having had more time to reflect and process, my words may be slightly different — more polished, less raw.  And so I share these words not as a political statement or as a representation of my full thoughts on this trial or the judicial system. More-so, these words represent what I felt. 

“Not guilty.” I’m not sure I know how to navigate and live in a world where adults shoot teenagers and because of the complexion of the kid and the badge on the man, we can write it off as lawful self-defense.

I’m not sure I like prison walls and I certainly don’t want any death penalties in existence, but this doesn’t feel anything like justice, either. Justice is standing up and speaking up and not being afraid to own up to the fact that we’ve got a problem. This is no way to respect a life. A human life was lost.

I always get questions about the safety of Africa. I’m asked if I should travel there, if I should go alone, if I’m being careful. I get defensive and people think I’m a naive teenager who thinks I’m invincible. But I want to shout at those people that if they knew how many of my peers had been buried this year then they would know I’m way past naiveté and if they knew I read the news and walk these streets as a woman, they would know I feel no more safe here than anywhere else. 

The continent of Africa has struggles. Many. That is fact. But it has also hope and resilience and good-heartedness. In the glorified USA, we may not have epidemics and unsafe drinking water, but what we have is a perpetuated evil spurred on by ignorance and lack of integrity to hold ourselves accountable to other human beings. And that truly terrifies me. 

 

After I wrote this, I found this poem by Mary Oliver, entitled “The Fist”. Her words reminded me that hope and resilience and good-heartedness can exist everywhere. And it reminded me to look for it. And it reminded me to create it. 

 

your diminished spirit.