Let his Death not go in Vain

On February 26 2012, Trayvon Martin went to the convenient store to purchase a pack of skittles and an ice tea--he never returned. This eerie murder struck up a lot of discussion, almost everyone immediately jumped to the conclusion of a tragic case of racial profiling, but as the investigation advances some are beginning to question his killer’s motives. This wasn’t the first time that someone has been murdered due to racial profiling, and unfortunately it certainly won’t be the last. Thousands of mourners met in New York City to march for justice, remembering the innocent boy who fell victim to racial profiling and fear. George Zimmerman, his killer, wasn’t arrested based on claims that he was acting on self-defense. At the moment it is nearly impossible to put him behind bars, due to the lack of evidence and a conflicting self-defense law allowing Zimmerman to remain a free man.

Zimmerman was the self-appointed neighborhood watch leader, known to patrol the area is his car—looking for people who acted suspiciously. It is said that in the 56 days before Trayvon Martin’s murder, Zimmerman called 911 more than 40 times. This raises the question, is this what happens when people fear what they don’t understand. It seems to make perfect sense; one fears much of what he doesn’t understand because they are scared of what it may be. Before 1492 people feared the ocean because they didn’t know what lay beyond the horizon. If you don’t understand the nature of something, you are more likely to invent what you believe will happen then find out. One didn’t fall off the face of the earth if you went past the horizon, but it took someone like Christopher Columbus to discover that. In this case Zimmerman feared Trayvon because he didn’t understand that not all African Americans are criminals. I believe Zimmerman acted without really understanding the circumstances and the magnitude of what he was doing. Trayvon may have made what Zimmerman believed was an aggressive move towards Zimmerman, which he may have thought would put him in danger so he shot him.

           One of the questions that comes to mind in this case is how can prejudice lead to injustice. In Zimmerman’s mind when he saw a black teenager walking down the street in a hoodie, prior prejudice must have made him instantly believe that Trayvon was a threat. That prejudice would later lead to the murder of an innocent seventeen-year-old. Most of the media surrounding this case focuses on the racial injustice aspect of it, knowing that it is the most intriguing part. Take the Japanese internment camps during World War two. The Americans used the prejudice that the Japanese are all enemies to unjustly throw them into internment camps. Had Trayvon been a white kid in a short sleeve shirt maybe the result may have been different, but there is no way to be positive.

In life there are some basic rules that all human beings should follow; one being the responsibility to protect the innocent. When Zimmerman lethally shot Trayvon he believed that he was protecting the innocent citizens of Sanford, Florida; consequentially he ended up doing the exact opposite. Being the self-appointed neighborhood watch man in the community, Zimmerman believed that stopping the young man was the right thing to do, until it went all wrong. Things quickly changed from Zimmerman protecting the innocent members of the community, to thousands of people trying to protect the innocent boy who was murdered. The thousands of people supporting Trayvon are eager to see Zimmerman placed behind bars, but the deciding question in this case is who was the innocent person in the incident and who’s responsibility was it to be protecting them.

In 2002 the movie Training Day starring Denzel Washington won an Oscar, but not without stirring up a lot of controversy. In the movie a black police officer, along with other black drug dealers, are part of a scheme to corrupt police officers and control drug trade in Los Angeles. In the movie a white rookie takes him down and brings the corruption to a halt. This may seem like a lone act of racial stereotyping done by Hollywood, but the reality is that it is a stereotype made again and again until it becomes instinct for people like Zimmerman to think of all blacks as criminals. I find it hard to imagine that this crime wasn’t influenced by racism, bringing us to the question, how can racial and gender stereotypes affect people’s behavior? It is almost instinct to stereotype people, using what you know about people like them to figure out what they are like. Stereotyping is seldom harmful, but when the stereotyping becomes discrimination and scapegoating—it has gone too far. The stereotype that all black people are criminals made Zimmerman more vigilant, and finally caused him to kill the kid.

What occurred in Sanford, Florida on February 26 2012 was truly a tragedy, but one we must learn from and never forget. This act of racial injustice is a powerful reminder that racism is still an ever present reality in our world and we must strive to end it. Trayvon Martin was nothing but an innocent boy with his whole life ahead of him, whose death reminds us of what many people before him and many yet to come will face. Hopefully the extensive media coverage and controversy surrounding this tragic incident will help make people more aware of the need to end racial profiling once and for all.

Some Things Happen for a Reason

            That bizarre first week of winter was one I doubt any of us will ever forget. It was like seven straight of mayhem in Maycomb County. On Monday, the news of Mrs. Radley’s death pervaded throughout the town. The sheriff told us that the death was caused by a heart attack and that no one would face charges. This was a big disappointment for Jem and I, we had been hoping that Boo Radley had conspired to kill his mother for keeping him locked up all those years. Jem had meticulously thought up a plan to sneak into the courthouse had Boo been arraigned. When Atticus returned from the Radleys place we were bursting with questions, but we tried to remain calm. Jem said that Atticus wouldn’t answer him if he asked about Boo, so was the one forced to interrogate him myself; our efforts went without prevail.  

            The days were colder than usual for that time of year. We burnt through many mounds of firewood that winter—each leaving a fire smoldering in our rooms all night long. When I awoke at the break of dawn I was bewildered by the sight before my eyes. I lay in bed for a few confusing moments, trying to apprehend the white mystery substance blanketing our yard. More than a century had elapsed since the last time Maycomb saw a white winter. Even Atticus said he had never seen snow in his lifetime. Jem and I headed outside to explore the foreign substance that painted everything white. Jem said he knew how to build a snowman, but I didn’t believe him. We had to retrace our tracks so that we wouldn’t ruin whatever bit of snow that had stuck said Jem. Combining the snow from Ms. Moudie's and our yards we created our very own snowman of Mr. Avery. Atticus was impressed with our work until he noticed Mr. Avery’s public parts, which he made us cover up. Ms. Moudie wasn’t nearly as impressed with our work as Atticus was. The snow was loads of fun, but by the end of the day I was yearning for the sweltering summer heat.

            Night approached sending the temperature plummeting to far below freezing. With multiple fires burning in each household, a disaster was imminent. Calamity struck in the early hours of the morning. Atticus awoke me dressing me in a jacket and sending me hurrying to the walkway in front of the Radley’s place. Outside there was complete anarchy as men women and children dashed to and fro. When Jem and I arrived at the fence in front of the Radley’s place, we quickly assimilated into the crowd of onlookers watching helplessly as Ms. Maudie’s place burnt to ashes. Part of me wanted to rush in there and help the men remove the furniture from the house, but I knew that Atticus’s rare over-protective demeanor kept me shackled to the far side of the road. The house eventually burnt to the ground, luckily without a single casualty. Everyone was a bit shaken up by the whole thing; and we all pitied the poor soul who would have to break the news to Ms. Maudie in the morning.

When Atticus returned to where we had been staying he asked Jem how I had acquired the blanket that had been draped over my shoulders. Jem and I had a short dissension over how it had gotten there until we finally came to the impossible conclusion. Boo Radley. The name nearly made me puke, he had been standing right behind me but I had failed to see him. Ms. Maudie returned the next day to find her house in shambles. I expected her to be horrified or at least sad, instead she was unusually content. She lionized the men who had risked their lives rescuing what ever furniture they could from her house, but said that she had wanted to burn that house down for years. Ms. Maudie said now she can plant a bigger garden in her yard—I guess some things happen for a reason. 

WW6 Secret Life of Bees

Dearest Zach,

            The days don’t seem as meaningful as when I am in Tiburon. New York is almost a whole different world, the bright lights and never ending honking of horns. The days are shorter and the weather is colder, but luckily I am assimilating into the life style pretty well. The city always seems to be in a state of anarchy, which I can never figure out and I will admit that I find it bizarre how the people can go their whole lives without ever leaving the bustling streets of the city. I would do anything for a peaceful week with you in Tiburon, telling stories on the front porch and eating your delicious honey.

            You cannot even begin to apprehend how hard I have looked to try to find a honey that could even compare to your lip-smacking, mouth-watering honey that can turn anything into a delicious treat.  The next time I visit Tiburon I will make sure to stock up on enough honey to last me for a full year.

            I have fabulous news for you! So after writing my first two novels a publisher from L.A. wants me to write a memoir! She says that with such a calamitous childhood the book is sure to be a success. Oh Zach I can never repay you for what you did for me. If not for you telling me to imagine that I had a future in writing, I would have never been free from the shackles of confidence that kept me from succeeding. I owe everything to you and truthfully I lionize you for all that you did for me.

            Four years have elapsed since I began writing my memoir and with the optimistic feedback from my publisher the release date seems imminent. When I was asked who I wanted to dedicate this book to the answer was obvious- you. I’ll make sure to send you an autographed copy before it is even released so you can be the first to read it.

            I wasn’t able to handle the sweltering heat of L.A. for too long before I had to return to New York. My publisher says that the “tropical climate” is like paradise- but on the inside I know she can’t take it either. I was on a talk show while was there, fun-right? Well not exactly, the lady interrogated me for a full hour, bombarding me with questions. We got into a bit of a dissension when the lady- who I later found out came from a racist family in Alabama- asked me how I possibly could have dealt with having to live with a family of African Americans, growing up.

            They seemed to love my story of the time when the group of KKK members saw us go into the movie theaters and on a whim conspired a plan to kidnap you. You will never believe how nervous I was for those 7 stressful hours when the police were searching for you. They probably would have never found you had they not checked Alex Moore’s house so meticulously and found the secret passageway heading to the cellar. I sometimes try to imagine what my life would have been like without you, but I just shield myself from the horrible thoughts. I could not stop laughing when I heard that when Alex Moore was arraigned he tried to plead not guilty, saying that he thought you were homeless and he was offering you a place to stay the night.

            Hopefully I can pass through Tiburon while I’m on my book tour in Charleston. Until then I give you my best wishes.

                                                With all my love,

                                                                        Lily

P.S. I hope Rosaleen is doing well, give her a hug for me.

The Problem We All Live With

The Problem We All Live With, was painted by artist Norman Rockwell in the year 1964. It is an oil canvas that depicts Ruby Bridges, a six-year-old African American girl, on her way to a white school in New Orleans on November 14. Ruby is surrounded by four National Guard in crisp uniforms, who are protecting the young innocent girl from the outraged parents of the white kids.

Though you can’t actually see the enraged parents cursing at her and threatening her, by looking at the details you can feel it. Rockwell depicts the hatred through the words “Nigger” and “KKK” written on the yellow wall behind her that is stained with smashed tomatoes and spray paint. Ruby is walking proud, and acting oblivious to the racial hate aimed towards her. Her clothes appear fresh and clean, and she has her new school supplies in her hands. By the looks she appears ready to learn and she doesn’t want to care about race at that time. The National Guards are all white, but you can tell that they are not what are meant to be important in this piece, by the fact that their heads aren’t shown in the painting.

My first impression of the painting was that Ruby Bridges is a little girl who wants to move past the issue of race and is just eager to learn. Ruby doesn’t appear fierce, or determined, she doesn’t even appear scared. Ruby appears to be in a calm demeanor. Obviously she isn’t clueless to hatred white people feel towards her. I’d imagine that even if she wasn’t showing it on the outside, on the inside she must be horrified, depressed, and uncertain of what will happen. I know that I and probably everyone else who sees this painting is struck in awe at just how extremely cruel and mean hearted humans could be to one another just because of the color of their skin. For adults to be threatening and cursing at an innocent little girl for a fault that isn’t even hers, is just so horrific and it shows how out of context humans can become.

I think the artist found this moment in history so important that it could never be forgotten. The fact that the schools were finally being forced to become segregated in the south wasn’t the important message that the artist was trying to portray in this piece. What Norman Rockwell’s intentions were in this piece, I think were to make sure that this dark moment in history would never be forgotten. And what better way is there to show what happened than to paint it. They do say picture is worth a thousand words. This piece is now on display in the hallway in front of the Oval Office in the White House. One cursory glance at this painting and you feel like you know the whole story. I think that Norman Rockwell has solidified this moment in history forever.

This painting is made to look realistic. There is nothing abstract about it. For the most part the colors he chose are kind of dull. The walls are a peach color, the side walk is gray, and the marshals are all in light or dark grey uniforms and shiny black leather shoes. Ruby is in all white which I think he did because it makes the darkness of her skin stand out above all else. Ruby is the main focus of this picture and it is evident because she is in the center of the painting. She stands out because nothing else in the painting is even close to being the same color as her skin. Norman Rockwell has done a great service solidifying this moment in history and he will forever be remembered for it.

The Days After Christmas

    After Christmas things really settled down and sort of became boring. On the 26 my cousins Danny and Maggie came over to go shopping at the mall with my sisters. Now you better understand why I wouldn't want to go to the mall with them. 1. They're all girls and will be at girls stores the whole time. 2. They could stay there for 7 hours and still feel an urge to keep shopping. 3. What person in their right mind would want to spend their vacation shopping with them!

    Unfortunately staying home wasn't much better. I thought I'd just relax and take it easy for a day. Instead my dad comes and asks me to help him and my uncle with some wood. I agree to what i thought was a quick and easy project since I had nothing better to do. I put on a hoodie, a big jacket, and my gloves before heading out to the freezing garage. Little did I know that this would become a three day project. For 6 hours straight I hauled endless amounts of extremely heavy 15 foot long planks of precious wood that my Grandpa had collected for more than 20 years from the garage to the yard. In the yard my uncle Dan was there labeling them, and every ten seconds exclaiming "Oh my God! No way! it's the Brazilian Rosewood that's amazing!" To me it was all just wood, there was the dark brown one, the light brown one, the reddish brown one, and the yellowish brown one. No difference.

    After 3 hours we had moved all the boards to the yard. My feet were numb and I couldn't feel my hands except where sharp splinters had embedded themselves in my skin. I offered to make hot chocolate just so I could sneak inside and warm up. I felt like some starving kid from Somalia, so I searched my grandparents pantry and found a Hershey's raspberry dark chocolate bar and boy did I devour that thing. One second it was in the pantry, the next it was in my stomach. Nothing in my life has ever tasted so delicious. I purposefully took a good thirty minutes to make the hot chocolate, that ironically on the box claims only takes 1 minute to make.

I went outside to give them their hot chocolate, and then I realized that we weren't done yet, we were just beginning. Next we measured the length, height, and width of each and every board that he had taken out and wrote it down in Excel. After that we still weren't done. Next we had to put all of the boards we had taken out, back in the garage. And you still haven't heard the worst part yet. That ludicrous went on for THREE DAYS STRAIGHT!

    That night my dad took me do go see Sherlock Holmes for helping with the wood. The movie was good and very interesting, but the first was still better. The next two days went pretty much the same. I work for hours with the wood, my sisters do absolutely nothing, and we go to the mall at night to get stuff that we couldn't find in Panama. Though I didn't get much out of it, it felt good helping with the wood, and it made me very proud when the adults thanked me. The biggest surprise was on the third day I found out that those old boards of wood were worth more than 12 thousand dollars! I can't wait to go skiing tomorrow and finally get a break.

Christmas

    I woke up super early this morning for no apparent reason. I was ready to begin opening gifts at 6:30. So I waited for my sisters to wake up, and waited, and waited. Finally at 8:30 I went down to their beds and started kicking them to wake up. My sister got real pissed at me and started yelling. Finally I was able to convince them to come up stairs by telling them lies and making false promises.

    My family sat around in my grandparents living room and one by one opened gifts. My little sister gave me her old digital camera because she was getting a professional camera from my parents. My older sister gave me a shirt and my parents gave me an android tablet.

    Even though it's not an iPad I'm content with it. Actually I find it just as good if not better than an iPad. What I liked about it was that it had flash player which the ipad doesn't, and that allows me to watch shows online and things like that. I'm not exactly sure if I will use it as my primary computer at school but I will try.

    We went to my grandparent's church around 10 for Christmas mass. It was a very elegant church beautifully decorated for Christmas. Stain glass windows filled the walls, spreading a warm rainbow of light over everyone who was present. After church we saw a mother and child who were asking for money outside the church, the woman had a sign saying that she had been layed off and they needed money for a Christmas meal. My family and I felt really bad for them, so we went to a store and got the kid some small gifts and we gave the woman money for a dinner. This, more than our gifts and feast, made me most happy and reminded me of the true meaning of Christmas.

    Around noon we went over to my cousins house for a lunch. We feasted on delicious ham and scallop wrapped in bacon. We hung out with our cousins for the rest of the day. Marry Christmas!

Day 3

    This morning we woke up at 4 am and set out in a rental car for Rochester New York. There was virtually no one on the road the whole time since we had beaten all the traffic. After about 3 hours of driving we stopped at a Perkins to have some breakfast. After that short stop we continued on the road until we finally arrived at our grandparents house around 12pm. They were excited to see us and greeted us with lots of hugs and kisses. Slowly, one by one, relatives started to trickle in for our Christmas eve dinner.

    My grandparents have an amazing house in the woods of New York. Its oak wood and stone walls, soft carpet, and fire place in the living room leave it with the perfect Christmas setting. The woods behind the house are full of bare trees with the occasional ever green. My grandparents own half of the forest, including the pond that is usually frozen over by this time of the year. This winter is different, when we got to their house there was no snow on the ground, the pond was still completely liquid, and it was around 40 degrees outside. It still hasn't snowed yet and we  are beginning to worry that it may cancel our skiing plans.

    We had a huge meal of steak, potato salad, and much more. At the end of the dinner grandma brought out the rice pudding. The rice pudding is a Swedish tradition that we have done for as long as I can remember. Grandma makes rice pudding and drops an almond into one of the dishes, the person who gets the one with the almond puts baby Jesus in the cradle and gets good luck for the next year.

    When dinner was over we all went to the living room to open gifts. My older cousin Kevin and I made a fire in the fire place. When everyone settled down we all started giving gifts to each other, we saved the gifts from our family for the next morning.  Got my grandparents gave me $100 and my aunt and uncle also gave me money. I can't wait until tomorrow, I could really use some snow.