"You must really love skittles", the clerk said as I handed her the money for the four packages of Skittles I was buying. I thought to my head 'I probably don't love Skittles as much as Trayvon did.'
I was buying these Skittles because, today, my peers and I decided to take part in a social experiment. The four of us walked around school the entire day wearing hoodies, with the packages of Skittles and the can of Arizona nearby. We wore on our shirts "Please Do Not Shoot Me; They're just Skittles". Lo and behold we did not get shot that day; our hypothesis was true.
The story of Trayvon Martin depressed me from the moment I read it. The mere fact that he was shot was appalling, but the fact that his killer was never arrested made me cry. I became Trayvon Martin that day, because the single biggest right to humanity was violated: justice.
Is this really the world we live in? I don't even WANT to imagine the scenarios had Trayvon been white, or George Zimmermann black, because I know this might as well have happened to me. One way or another, an injustice anywhere, is a threat to justice everywhere.
I am fed up with the system. I am fed up with conviction rates exceeding justice rates. I am fed up with the killers that walk free because of the faulty system. I am tired of the innocent being charged because of the color on their skin, or their economic and social status. I am fed up because when killers walk free, others also get away. I am fed up because a daughter has to come home to see her mother in a pool of blood, with a note saying "Go back home."
I am fed up, because I am Trayvon Martin.
We are all Trayvon Martin.
Rest in peace brother, we are going to give your parents the justice they deserve.