I often write about issues specifically relating to the Ethiopian American Community. Today I’m diverting to that, to something that affects EVERYONE.
When I started Law School, some people asked me if I will practice International Law. Being the daughter of immigrants its automatically expected that I will try to practice international law, immigration law, or something of the sort. My answer to that question is no. Why you may ask: because I see so many domestic issues, that I see first hand, that will affect my future children; that directly affect my family and friends here in the United States of America.
My parents left a country in which the government was notorious for unjustly killing young people. They moved to a country that unjust killing still persists. Although it is not the government committing such crimes, it is still prevalent, private citizens taking the law in their own hands.
Can you imagine living in a country where your son, brother, cousin, boyfriend, husband, may get gunned down simply because they were walking while black. That’s what happened to Trayvon Martin. I am writing this today because in my heart I have been moved. Trayvon Martin is not Ethiopian, and I wonder if Ethiopian parents realize how much this situation affects their sons; anyone could be next. This is the world you live in today. I beg of you all to make yourselves aware of the domestic issues, because they are what actually affect US, your children, being born and raised here in the U.S. I grew up listening to my family debate the issues existing in Ethiopia. I understand their deep concerns with the state of the Ethiopian Nation. BUT, I urge you to please make yourself aware of the issues that exist HERE, Where YOUR Children are growing up. The issues that deeply affect US.
I don’t have any brothers, BUT I DO have so many male cousins, and as I think about what happened to Trayvon Martin, I can only think of what could have happened to one of them.
I usually do not post my poetry online, this situation has made me decide to make an exception:
I find myself mourning the death of someone I never even met.
Not a pop icon, or someone whose music I grew up listening to
But someone I’ve never even heard of
Someone I’ll never get to meet
Someone none of us will ever get to see
Just a distant memory, that I never had the chance to make
I find my eyes filling with tears
When I think about how after all these years…
It must have been cold outside that day
So he pulled up the hood of his sweat shirt over his head
Probably didn’t have gloves
So he put his brown hands in his pockets instead
Didn’t know exactly which direction to head to
So he probably looked lost
As he was quite young and probably didn’t often walk this block
Suspicious looking black male
His favorite candy was probably skittles
That day he had a bag in his hand
He might have been day dreaming about the day he becomes president
Or the next football star
OR maybe he was daydreaming about the girl he was crushing on
Indeed, a suspicious looking black male
We’ll never know, because now
His life is gone
Never to be returned
As he, screamed out for help
Right before the man pulled the trigger…
We’ll never know what his last thoughts were,
I can only imagine how scared he was
17, dropped dead.
As the lead penetrated his sweatshirt
Then t shirt
Then skin
As the blood flowed from his
Skin
to his t shirt
then sweatshirt,
as his life came to an end
We’ll never know his thoughts within
He’ll never get a chance again
As his killer walks away with no regrets
An innocent young life lost
Another suspicious looking black male
Could have been any one of us
With suspicious looking brown skin
With a hoodie
Hands in pockets
Walking unfamiliar street
Now Dead.
Caramel, dark, or honey whichever type it is
In his eyes it was still suspicious looking black male.
Suspicious looking black male
As you stand there with your jaw locked
And your hands in your pocket
And your hood over your head
Face and heart hardened by all the struggles you have faced
Hood pulled so low I can’t see your eyes
Suspicious looking black male
I don’t know your intentions
Quietly standing alone, talking to no one
Not expressing yourself or your thoughts
you’d rather not speak unless spoken to
Because they may mistake your words for some type of attitude
Suspicious looking black male
As you make your way to class
Carrying a book bag with books in it
Book report freshly written
They think you got crack rocks and bullets in it
Suspicious looking black male
Standing over 5’10 with your suspicious looking skin
And your suspicious eyes
And your suspicious grin
According to him
You deserve to die at 17 even if you never did a single thing
Even if your bag is filled with books
And your mind is filled with ideas To make a difference in the world
And
dreams of success
And
ambition beyond belief
And
Potential that no one would see
Suspicious looking black male
You might as well stop now
Because within seconds your life will end
Because your suspicious skin frightens him
Your suspicious skin brings about reason for probable cause
And your suspiciousness is always beyond a reasonable doubt
And you are surely guilty of all the crimes
He thinks you’re ABOUT to commit
Suspicious looking black male,
don’t leave your house
TODAY you just might get shot
At the young age of 17, suspicious looking black male
You are a threat to him
And your dreams will be in vein
And your ambition and vigor to be the best you can
Will be pointless
Because my brother
You have suspicious looking brown skin,
SUSPICIOUS LOOKING BLACK MALE
#preach. you just took ’em to church cuz!!!!!!!! Love the poetry and message. Such an important point for Ethiopian parents to understand and one that is often overlooked in our community. Yes we are Ethiopian-Americans but first, we are BLACK. These issues and injustices apply to us just as they do to our African-American brethren.
Great Poem, especially the last few lines.
Keep it up!