“We are all Trayvon”

It’s my senior year of high school and I remember how cold it was this one day at soccer practice. Playing in 30 degrees I bundled up, putting on my Knight Hawks soccer hoodie. Saturday practice ends, I get into my car and drive home, where my mom was doing laundry in the garage. I say hi and she tells me to never drive with my hood on. I tell her that I am cold and what was the big deal. She says I could pass for a boy with my long curly hair hidden by my hood. I wondered why my mom cared about me looking like a boy. She said I could appear menacing to other drivers on the road. In my ignorance of having grown up in a racially diverse community I didn’t understand the profoundness of her statement. The lessons she gave and the explanations of what she said she’d seen didn’t have examples until Trayvon Martin. Read more