A black male is criminalized post-mortem. The U.N. calls out America’s racial bias. Why should you care?
A 17-year-old boy was walking on a public sidewalk when a 28-year-old man ignored instructions from a 911 operator, after calling to report suspicious behavior. A gun was pulled, and the 17-year-old was shot in the head.
In that context, a guilty verdict is easy. However, the 17-year-old was black, and the 28- year-old was white.
That’s where we have a problem.
To get an older, wiser opinion on the issue, I went to assistant professor of communication studies Bryan McCann. His academic and philanthropic pursuits address communication and critical cultural studies. This includes a particular interest in matters of race, gender and class in mass incarcerations. He said that he saw many of those matters in the Trayvon Martin shooting.
“I wasn’t shocked by the verdict because it came down to Zimmerman’s claim that he was defending himself.” McCann said. “Sadly, that was asking if Trayvon Martin seemed dangerous.”
So how did we determine if Martin seemed to be dangerous? We searched for our idea of danger in his image.
There are two sides to the media’s image of Trayvon Martin. On one, he was a young, dark-skinned boy with a bright future. On the other side, he was a hooded, black youth who had a history of violence.
“I was uncomfortable with how even the Martin advocates portrayed him. It seemed like he could only be an angelic little boy or a thug,” McCann said.
These contradictory views of Martin should be an obvious hint at racism in the judicial system. But legally, racial bias is hard to prove.
“We’re in a system that says racial bias is only proven by white hoods and swastikas,” McCann said.
My conversation with McCann ran on with trial specifics, Stand Your Ground laws and a request from the United Nations to review racial bias policy. But as we were discussing things, I recognized a familiar disconnected feeling — as if we were talking about something that happened on a television show, in a fictional universe.
My main question quickly became why I, an LSU student, should care.
“Well, that’s a good question,” McCann started. “It seems big, and these two were in Florida. But it is worth noting that this case wouldn’t have even gone to trial if there hadn’t been pressure from people across the country.”
He continued with, “It might not be a matter of what you can do for the Trayvon Martin case specifically, but how we can find Trayvon on our campus.”
The concept of racist expression is easier to accept in the seemingly fictional world of the American judicial system, especially when the scene is set in Florida. But here in Louisiana and at LSU, we aren’t immune to racist expression.
Last October, a text message was sent out over the LSU Emergency text system, which described the suspect of an armed bank robbery as “Black male wearing black hooded sweatshirt, blue jeans.” The student sitting in front of me got it as well, and he commented, “Good thing I wore white clothes today.”
He was wearing a cardigan, a button-down shirt, and khaki pants. The assumption was that with those clothes he wouldn’t be thought to be dangerous — that with a certain appearance, he would avoid racial profiling.
So, is it innocent until proven guilty, or black until proven innocent?
Racist ideals like this are everywhere. There aren’t white hoods or nooses on our campus, but that doesn’t mean it’s over. Luckily, racism can be defeated.
Today, racism is quiet. We just need to learn how to recognize it and address it.
Opinion: We need to learn to recognize, address racism
By Jana King
September 11, 2013