I told my parents and they immediately began a debate on the complexities of Peruvian race relations. I found the linked Suzanne Gamboa article but it only added to the conflicting thoughts I have.
This morning, I have seen the more recent pictures of both Zimmerman and Martin. I feel bamboozled, fooled, naive. Like millions of people every day, I have accepted what is presented in the news as fact. But as my own class discussed, fact is not always truth. Now I have a less menacing yet fuller picture of the real George Zimmerman, not the boogeyman the court of public opinion would have me dismiss.
As for Trayvon Martin, I no longer only see the memory of a baby-faced child but a more honest picture of a real teenager. Unlike Geraldo Rivera(why does he have to be Latino? somebody take him back), I am not quick to judge Trayvon. Wifebeaters, grills, and tattoos have no bearing on this case. A young man is dead, another man has lost his reputation and safety, possibly his life, and two communities stand to lose common ground over this case.
On a more personal level, I can’t help but wonder how many people will ponder this case in depth. I am saddened and moved by this case to be more analytical and reflective. I can’t let the media or even my own first impressions be my guide.
I have no respect for thieves. Sure I shoplifted some Barbie doll shoes from Gemco and some Jolly Ranchers from the local 7-11 when I was a little girl. But once I started to think for myself and choose right from wrong, I have never taken something that didn’t belong to me, be it cash or another lost item. I’m the person who returns your wallet or purse to lost and found or customer service. I’ll be the one to help you look for your sunglasses or child’s toy under the BART seats or at the movies. So it irks me that I’ve been the target of credit card thieves more than once.
This morning as I checked my ever-depleting checking account(long distance romance doesn’t come cheap, LOL), I saw a morning purchase at Macy’s. Now I love Macy’s as much as any other woman with fashion sense but I’ve been in my office all morning, processing suspensions and trying desperately not to jump out of my chair to rail against the barrage of whining parents in our lobby. I spoke to a bank representative and she confirmed that a purchase was made with my ATM card at a Macy’s in Ohio. Strangely, my unsigned and very worn ATM card is in my Coach wallet where it always is, along with my laminated affirmations and prayer cards, my health insurance card, my license, my St. Christopher medal, and for once, because God knows I’m always broke despite my many-figure salary, some cash and change. Someone out in the Midwest has made a counterfeit copy of my card and is shopping at Macy’s while I earn an honest living.
So why am I smiling? We have canceled the card and I’ll cut my copy into bits in a few minutes. But I smile because no thief can take the wealth I have.