Opinion
Trayvon Martin and the Mysterious Powers of Black Men
By Ryan Elcock
As the Trayvon Martin tragedy unfolds day-by-day, I have discovered that we black men have some pretty awesome powers – not the kind superheroes possess but the kind that manifest themselves only when we have been shot by white men, other non-black people of color, or by cops. For example, if and when we are shot, the shooters are the ones who mysteriously get covered in bruises. Apparently, we black men are aggressive and violent even after we are either lying dead from a gunshot wound or helplessly writhing about in pain.
However, I am one of the unfortunate ones since I was denied such powers myself a few weeks ago in the great multicultural and embracing city of Toronto. It was a cold Thursday night, and my fraternity alumni dinner had just ended. Since I had forgotten to bring my toiletries, I headed off to the local supermarket to do the needful. As I crossed the street, a kind white gentleman called me a ‘nigga’ and told me to hurry up and get out of the way of his silver BMW. It seemed as though the woman next to him did not appreciate my gait.
Needless to say, I thought of Trayvon Martin and his last encounter with the man who ended his life. What if I had gotten into some kind of altercation with the man in his car? Would I have ended up dead and the other wounded because I am black? Would the Toronto police be as enthusiastic as the Florida cops had been in arresting George Zimmerman of the Martin Fame? Would my cops leak the ‘dark’ stories of my past? Would they reveal what I did in Texas or my records at the gym? Maybe, I’d lose the public relations battle with the Justice Department just like the late Mr. Martin who is being presented as a lout who was suspended from school for drugs! The powers of black men: Upon being shot, they become larger than life – a vile drug dealing gangster for Trayvon; and maybe, a whole new facet for me!
Trayvon could have, easily, been me. I am a black man with broad shoulders and a stern look. Even when I am out with friends, people mistake me for security. But I have to ask this: Should I treat every white person dressed in Goth or clean shaven and steel toed as a racist neo Nazi? What a person wears and their background do not speak to the character of the person. But this is only relevant if this person is not black. If they are the latter, their clothes and background define them completely.
For answers on this issue, we could look at the fact that black men have always been scapegoats. Research shows that many a white husband killed his wife and found a way to accuse the black man who wanted a taste of her. The black man is followed about the store while the unmonitored white boy or girl happily partakes of the five finger discount. What’s even more ironic is that it is the ones who are most able to afford the stuff they steal. But I digress.
As for the perception of black men as the drug dealers and the ones doing drugs, I can’t tell you how many times a well-meaning and enlightened white person, or non-black minority, asked me if I knew where they could get good weed. Mind you, I have never drunk alcohol, smoked a cigarette, or taken drugs all my life. But those who asked never cared to ask: I was a means to an end and I cannot start to tell you how entertaining it was to see their faces when I told them I did not even know where to start their salacious adventure for a high. But I am not like most: When a white man is caught with drugs, he goes to rehab. The black man goes home to jail.
But back to Trayvon: That night I was called the ‘n’ word as I crossed the street, my temperament could have gotten the better of me and I could have devolved into the quintessential angry black man with thin skin. And if I had been violent in the case of an altercation, the superpowers could have come out with the slap on the wrist for the white man. I am sure of it. I would have probably been lying somewhere on a cold room slab or in jail while the other continued to cruise in his BMW! And Canada would have continued to be the multicultural and embracing country. Note: This is not the deep racist South in America or Texas. But the sad fact is that as a black man in Canada, I have to watch myself, be aware of my actions and be even more adapt than I was in Texas where one had a modicum of freedom in the more ubiquitous law of the land.
