Race...Again

Last Saturday night most TVs in the pod were tuned to CNN as “Breaking News” came in announcing a verdict in the most recent racially charged case out of Florida since the Trayvon Martin murder trial. The new case, involving a white middle class man named Dunn who pulled a gun out while in a “7-11” parking lot and proceeded to empty a clip into a red SUV parked beside him, killing the driver, a seventeen year-old black kid names Jordan Davis and wounding his two black friends. And people immediately compared this shooter (Dunn) to the Martin shooter (Zimmerman); and the case broke on racial lines just like the Martin case; and once again America was treated to the idiocy of Florida’s “stand your ground” law and way too many talking heads on TV inflaming the situation.

            The cases aren’t the same. There were major differences between Zimmerman and Dunn. Zimmerman stayed at the scene, Dunn left after firing. Zimmerman was in his own neighborhood, sober, and “observed” a “suspicious” man walking through. He contacted police who told him to “not interact” with the walker (advice he ignored). He confronted the hooded black teenager; a scuffle ensued and Trayvon Martin lay dead.

            Dunn had been to the wedding of his son from whom he was estranged. He had four rum and cokes at the reception and stopped at the 7-11 on the way home. His girlfriend testified he was in a “not so good mood” and immediately upon parking next to the red SUV with the three black teens in it, stated to her how much he loathed “that f---in loud rap music.” For some unknown reason, Dunn then felt “threatened” by the three teens. He claimed – well after he was tracked down for the shooting – that one of the black teens “brandished” a gun; only after seeing the gun – he claimed – did he pull out his piece and fire in self-defense. Funny thing was, there was no gun in the SUV. Dunn’s girlfriend said there was no gun that she ever saw and she never felt in fear. Not good testimony if you’re trying to build a “self-defense” defense.

            As any reasonable person would expect, Dunn was found guilty of two counts of attempted murder (the two wounded black teens) and the count on brandishing a firearm. However, the jury hung on the first-degree murder count, and that is where the problem with race comes in.

            Guys in here were livid. “M – F—er got away with murderin’ another black kid. It’s open season on young brothers.” CNN’s own anchor fanned the flames with outrageous, anecdotal comments and hyperbole (and yet, Don Lemon remains of the air – go figure.) And I watch it all and realize it is so easy to jump to conclusions and make over-generalized statements especially when it comes to races. America is a unique nation because it enjoys a prosperity and internal peace in abundance all the while being a very heterogeneous population. And yet, the elephant in America’s living room remains race.

            It’s weird really because I always considered myself racially fair (for lack of a better word). I told myself I didn’t judge people by their color (hell, I thought Halle Berry was the most beautiful woman in the world!), but it was easy saying that out there because I lived a racially segregated life. We had no black or Hispanic friends, and no races other than white attended our church. I had black employees; our kids went to school and played sports with black kids; but that was the extent of it. Then I got locked up and I shared cells, and chow hall tables, and my life with men who did not look like me and I realized all the preconceived ideas I had that involved a person’s skin color, National origin, religion, or sexual orientation were unadulterated bullshit.

            Race will continue to torment this country corporately and many of us individual until we overcome those preconceptions. Where is the empathy for the mothers of the two boys gunned down? Shouldn’t any parent be able to feel the loss these women feel? Why should our view of crime, politics, music, anything really be governed by the skin color of those involved?

            Dr. King urged America to judge a person “by the content of their character not the color of their skin.” Sometimes that’s tough. It’s always easier following preconceived notions. But, it isn’t right. Until we come to grips with the fact that a teenager was senselessly gunned down and not worry about his color, we are doomed to repeat the same tale over and over.

            This past week white fraternity members at Ole Miss placed a noose around the statue of James Meredith. The same day, a black Ole Miss student had a drink thrown on her from a passing car as the driver yeller the “N” word. It’s time to stop the ignorance.

Ghosts

The other day during lunch one of the vocational teachers came into our chow hall and pulled two of his aides aside.  He told them that two hours prior a recently retired officer had committed suicide.  Mr. Townsend was a thirty year veteran of DOC.  He was a good, kind, decent man.  His death caught many of us by surprise.  We had no way of knowing the pain he carried.

We learned that Mr. Townsend’s wife was terminally ill.  Near death and hospitalized she would soon leave her husband alone.  The retirement had taken away his day to day purpose; he couldn’t bear to lose his wife as well.  Mr. Townsend’s son is in Afghanistan, again, in a war – like all wars – that has lasted much too long, caused more death and pain than success, and causes you to wonder, when will we learn?

Ghosts.  Mr. Townsend had ghosts.  And I prayed about him that night knowing that we all have ghosts, and we can’t let the ghosts rule.

On a recent documentary about James Meredith’s admission to the then all-white University of Mississippi, the narrator asked, “What is the cost of knowing our past, and what is the cost of not?”  I thought about those words a good deal the past day as I wondered why Mr. Townsend felt that all was lost.  His demons overtook him, and that is a tragedy.

We all have things that weigh us down.  In here, I see it everyday.  The vast majority of men in prison come from dysfunctional, uneducated, economically depressed homes.  Abuse:  alcohol, drug, home violence are common almost daily occurrences.  Stability is a concept alien to their life as is self respect and love.  And crime, feeling victimized, lacking remorse and empathy is the only way many of these men cope. 

So, they do horrible things, violent things, impulsive, reckless things and the carnage continues.  It’s strange when you hear someone explain shooting another person or beating them senseless.  And you wonder how do they live with the guilt, the shame, of their actions?  You look at the dullness in their eyes, the repeat trips to prison, and you realize they don’t.  Unlike Mr. Townsend, who placed a gun beside his head, these men kill themselves slowly.  And the results are the same.

Ghosts.  I lived with mine for a long time and my friends, they couldn’t tell.  That’s how it is with ghosts.  We see them every day, the guilt and self-loathing knowing we weren’t being true to ourselves, our better nature.  But no one else can see them.

There’s a great verse in the book of Isaiah.  The prophet tells the beleaguered, desperate citizens of Israel, “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” (Isaiah 60:1)  It took me a long time to figure out what he was getting at.

It’s a simple message:  get going.  You can’t sit back in pain and self-pity.  Fight on, even when you’re hurting because God is with you.  No matter what, God has your back.  It is a wonderful, powerful message of hope. I wish someone had taken the time to share it with Mr. Townsend.

I write a great deal about this broken, desperate prison system full of broken, desperate men and the rubble that is their lives.  It is not a place to find much solace and hope.  And that, I think, is precisely the people and the place Isaiah was sending his shout out to.

I’ve had a weird week in here.  Amidst the polarization of the election, the damage of Hurricane Sandy, the fights and thefts and lies in this place, and the officer’s suicide, I felt as calm and at peace as I can ever remember.  Ghosts, I’ve learned, can be let go.  And, the past – and the present – don’t define your future.  Even for the guys in here, there’s hope.  Life doesn’t have to continue as it was.  And prison – not prison with walls and counts and years – the prison of our guilt, and actions, and fears, can be put behind us.