What Really Happened
The Trayvon Martin Case
Skittles and Obi-Wan
A lot, too much, has been said about the murder of sixteen-year old Trayvon Martin by
"Neighborhood Watch" volunteer George Zimmerman. Retreading old ground is not productive, so
I'd rather focus on things I haven't heard said or haven't heard said enough. Prominent
among them: that Zimmerman was not on a neighborhood watch patrol that evening and that
he was as much a stranger to that condo complex as was Trayvon Martin, who might
actually have been seen once or twice by neighbors taking the shortcut through the gated community to visit his father who was dating
someone who lived nearby. Also not being asked: if Zimmerman's proactive crime fighting was
his pattern, I can't help but wonder how many other Trayvons Zimmerman had
harassed, followed, questioned
or threatened in the past, and would any of those come forward. Here was a guy with nothing better to do,
nowhere to go, so he goes on Bat-patrol, alone, no radio, not in his assigned area, not on his assigned night,
just looking for some action. No one was bothering George Zimmerman, no one was
threatening George Zimmerman.
George Zimmerman was not protecting anybody, least of all the condo
residents who likely did not even know who
Zimmerman was. Yet this guy is likely to walk under some absurd "Stand Your Ground" law permitting the use
of deadly force in defense of your own life; a life that was not, by any stretch of any version of any story
told about that night, in danger. No one believes Trayvon Martin was trying to kill George Zimmerman,
that Martin stalked Zimmerman and attacked Zimmerman for no reason. Zimmerman got his behind kicked. Not the end of the world. No broken bones. The blood
on his face came from fairly minor cuts, the wounds looked much worse than they actually were. It's all so
much ado about nothing, all designed to obscure the most prescient detail of that evening, which none of
the talking heads (or the Martin family attorney) seems to ever mention:
Trayvon Martin had an actual reason for being where he was that evening. George Zimmerman did not.
There is no testimony, no evidence, that Zimmerman attempted CPR
on Martin, put pressure on Martin’s gunshot wound, or attempted
to assist Martin medically in any way. So far as anyone knows,
Zimmerman shot him, then just stood idly by like an ass,
letting Trayvon Martin bleed out. Zimmerman was a nitwit with a
gun. A guy too stupid to even know he’s not white, that he’s
just as big a target as Martin was. This mope, this bumbling,
obviously disturbed cop-wannabe, knew how to pull a trigger, but
knew nothing about simply keeping pressure on the boy’s wound
until help could arrive.
Left To Die:
Gun nuts know everything about their hardware, nothing about saving lives.
Zimmerman made absolutely
no attempt to resucitate Martin. He just paced idly abut while the boy bled out.
No Halo
The main problem, as I see it, is the knee-jerk racial divide
that fitted Trayvon Martin for a halo right off the mark. His
parents released photos not of the seventeen-year old emulating
the edgy, threatening “gangsta” look idolized by boys his age,
but of a happy twelve or thirteen-year old, smiling and brimming
with innocence. This fanned the flames of suspicion and outrage
while not telling a completely honest story. Convenience store
surveillance footage of Martin, purchasing Skittles and iced tea
moments before his death, painted a completely different
picture. Here was a tall, lean kid whose face was obscured by
the ubiquitous urban “hoodie” which—despite the ludicrous
extremes black America has gone to in order to defend it—lends
the appearance of evil. The dark hood has always, perhaps from
its inception, represented mystery if not quite necromancy. The
first time we meet the kindly mentor, Obi-Wan Kenobi in the
classic film Star Wars, he is wearing a hoodie. The hoodie was a
deliberate misdirect to make Kenobi seem somewhat mysterious and
nefarious, while the young hero Luke Sykwalker was portrayed,
from the first frame if his appearance, unmasked and unfettered.
Every film and now every “gangsta” video has employed the same
imagery, from Errol Flynn to Wiz Khalifa: the hoodie represents
mystery and darkness if not necessarily or specifically evil.
In the surveillance footage, the store clerk seems not at all
concerned or alarmed by Trayvon Martin, whom he seems to
recognize. I am surely reading into this few seconds of grainy
footage, but my assumption is this clerk has seen Martin before.
Martin does not attempt to steal anything or give the clerk a
hard time. It is a routine and mundane transaction, likely one
that’s gone on many times before, perhaps between this clerk and
Martin. And it is over within seconds. Had I been in that store,
I’d likely have not given Trayvon a second look. A glance past
the gangsta hoodie, I would have seen past even a stony façade
(we do not see what façade Martin portrayed at the time) to see
Martin’s eyes, which told a different story. This is the
unspoken reason young boys wear the hoodie and sag their pants
and so forth in the first place: they’re trying to erect a
defensive perimeter and assume an aggressive posture. Why?
Because they are neither aggressive nor particularly dangerous
They are boys trying to be men, trying to define themselves by
emulating what they’ve seen. Everything about Martin’s
aggressive or threatening look was, in my opinion, entirely
about self-defense. Look aggressive so you don’t become a
victim. This was exactly my pattern of behavior as a teen
growing up in a hostile environment in New York. The
neighborhood Martin was in likely was not the most threatening
of environments, but this was his war paint and these were his
habits: obscure who he actually was, a boy trying to find his
way. What was the tip-off? The Skittles and iced tea.
Speculating a bit more, it’s possible the store clerk may have
come from similar circumstances. Young people from townie
neighborhoods may or may not take jobs as store clerks, so this
clerk may have come from some other part of town. He may have
grown accustomed to seeing kids like Trayvon. Most urban blacks
I know can tell the difference between a kid like Trayvon who,
dress-up all he wants, is betrayed by the innocence in his
eyes—and real gangstas who mean us harm. I seriously doubt
Trayvon Martin was a threat to anybody. He was a kid, like a
million others, white or black, who emulate the crap they see on
TV. Real gangstas are, likewise, often less of a threat than
they are perceived to be. In my experience, if you don’t bother
them, most of the time, they won’t bother you. Just don’t stare
and maybe consider crossing the street.
The gangstas who are an actual threat are usually not gangstas
at all. They are either wannabes or poseurs, imitators of the
gang lifestyle while not actually being in a gang. They get
themselves inked up with tats, stay stoned and aggressively
harass civilians—non-gang members—for no reason. These are the
kinds of morons who get shot. A lot. Because they’re being jerks
for no reason. These are the gun-happy, twitchy types who are
dangerous because they have no code, no perceptible set of
standards of conduct we can hold them to. These were guys I’d
try to avoid but if there was no evasion from, I’d have acted
with extreme aggression toward because aggression would be the
only thing they’d respond to.
The
problem is this: the average cop-wannabe, like this
Zimmerman, is untrained. He is living a fantasy inside his head.
Wyatt Earp. A Hispanic, Zimmerman is, at least from a distant
observation, in denial about his own ethnicity. He is a
completely invented person, living a fantasy that denies who he
is: a not-dangerous, not-tough average guy. His account,
therefore, cannot be trusted, first and foremost, because he is
in denial of who he is. It is possible Zimmerman felt
comfortable approaching Martin not only because of his gun but
because he was sure he could beat Martin in a fight. He was
wrong. The emerging picture is Trayvon was well trained or at
least well versed in the fine art of butt-kicking. He was being
stalked by a stranger in the dark, and he wasn’t giving it up to
this guy.
The word missing from most discussion of the Martin case is
“vigilante,” which is what George Zimmerman was. Neighborhood
watch volunteers have one job: be nosy, report what you see.
They are not cops, no even volunteer (or auxiliary) police who
ride around in second-hand cop cars looking like idiots in
police uniforms. Nobody pays those guys any mind, and if they’d
gotten out of their fake cop car to trail a kid like Martin
they’d be dumped from the Fake Cop program. In my personal
experience, most real gang members I’ve known (or know now)
don’t usually act alone. Even the twitchy wannabes—those who
commit most of the violence we assume was committed by actual
gang members—rarely act alone. Most of these types, walking
alone, will not become aggressive unless you show aggression
toward them first. I have absolutely no doubt, regardless of
Martin’s status—good kid or gang banger—he’d not have harmed
George Zimmerman or anybody else had he been left alone to finish
walking back to his father’s girlfriend’s home. Most instances
of aggressive “gangsta” behavior I have personally observed has
occurred only when the boys are in groups, when they are showing
off for one another or feel confident that their buddy has their
back.
Mirror, Mirror: How it would look from the other side. Trayvon would never have even been granted bail
I Am Trayvon Martin
Back when I used to work in Manhattan, it was a half-mile
journey from my office to the Port Authority bus station. Coming
in I’d usually catch a subway, but sometimes I’d walk it. Going
home, I’d walk it as often as not because the trains were so
crowded and midtown traffic was usually pretty awful. On more
than one occasion I’ve been followed. They’d move when I moved.
They’d cross the street when I crossed the street. I’ve learned,
from hard experience, that trying to avoid a stalker is the
wrong way to go. You want to get to some public place or
protected environment as soon as possible, but moving away from
the person following you sends the message that you are
afraid—which only encourages them. Therefore, on more than one
occasion, particularly if I was tired and had had a long day, I
would walk slower, drawing the twitch following me in closer.
I’d then turn, abruptly and move right at him with a menacing
look. Nine out of ten times, the would-be mugger would be
startled and just move on without incident. For the tenth one,
I’d get in his face, snarling, dropping my bag or what have you,
and promise him I’d beat him to death and leave him where I
found him, “If you go for your pocket, I’ll kill you.” This has
never, not once, failed to discourage someone from trying to rob
me. It is not a tactic I recommend for anyone who can’t back up
what they’re saying, and if the aggressor even _looks_like he’s
reaching for a weapon, you’ve got to end him because, on the
street, this is what it is: life or death.
Had I been followed by George Zimmerman, had I given him the
Death Stare, warning him to leave me alone, and had
self-appointed Deputy Dawg Zimmerman continued to close the gap,
approaching me. I’d have assumed this person meant to do me
harm. I’d have made several attempts to move away, I’d have
tried to avoid confrontation. But at some point I’d have engaged
the follower, motivated not by aggression or even hatred but by
the educated, experienced conclusion that if I did not engage
this person, he would likely harm me. I’d have assumed Zimmerman
was a mugger. That “neighborhood watch” crap—assuming Zimmerman
identified himself as a neighborhood watch volunteer—would have
not seemed credible to me. I’d been attacked before, I’d had
guns aimed at me before. I would not have known what Zimmerman’s
act was nor would I have cared. I’d have ether tried to run to
the house or, realizing I couldn’t avoid this guy, I’d have
engaged him.
Which, by all emerging accounts, is likely what Trayvon Martin
did: move away from Zimmerman, then turn back when he realized
Zimmerman would not stop pursuing him.
What we’ll never know is if Zimmerman brandished a weapon at
Trayvon or not. Not knowing who or what Zimmerman was, being
alone, at night, behind a bunch of houses, had Zimmerman reached
for a weapon I’d have jumped him. I’d have jumped him and tried
my best to beat the living daylights out of the guy. Because I’d
have known, once the assailant manages to pull his gun, I would
likely lose my life. Having been bullied in younger years, by my
late teens I’d become extremely aggressive on the street. Had I
even *seen* a gun in Zimmerman’s waistband, this stranger
approaching me, I’d have attacked him. I would have assumed he
intended me harm, and I would not have waited from him to
actually point his weapon at me or to actually do anything.
Following me was a threatening act.
We can cloud the issue all we want with racial or political
overtones. Despite his Hispanic heritage, George Zimmerman
clearly and obviously identifies as white. He also has a
troubling Starsky & Hutch cop-wannabe vigilante streak. And,
split hairs all you want, the simple and unvarnished truth is
that Trayvon Martin would be alive today had Zimmerman followed
his training and explicit instructions from the police and
simply stayed in his car. Beyond that, whether or not Trayvon
attacked him is kind of besides the point. Given those givens,
I’d have attacked Zimmerman, too.
Stunned Martin's parents. Police failed to give Zimmerman a drug test, but they gave Trayvon one.
Who Speaks For Trayvon?
What is less clear to me is how Trayvon got shot. I mean, from
leaked witness statements, the picture emerging is that Trayvon
was clearly kicking Zimmerman’s butt. How did Zimmerman manage
to pull a gun and shoot Martin? It seems entirely unlikely that,
in the midst of a good old-fashioned butt-whupping, that Martin
would have permitted Zimmerman to reach for anything. I
certainly would not have. We’ll have no way of knowing,
conclusively, how Zimmerman managed to finally, after having his
ashes hauled, reach for his pistol, but the TV show scenario of
the gun falling out and the two me struggling for it is just
nonsense. A likelier scenario: having made his point to
Zimmerman, Trayvon Martin may have given him a final punch and
released him, perhaps intending to go on his way. My speculation
is Trayvon let George go, the fight was over, and Zimmerman,
finally free to reach, pulled his gun and shot him. For me, no
other scenario seems logical or even likely.
I’ve had guns aimed at me in anger three times in my life, all
during my teen years. On neither occasion did I scream for help.
I’m not entirely sure why, although I’m sure, on some level, I
was trying to be a man by not giving it up to this punk with the
gun as much as the punk with the gun was trying to be a man by
trying to rob or assault me. I never believed those screams of
help came from Trayvon Martin. Screaming for help is not
something teenage boys do. It’s not what they’ve seen in the
movies or on the countless hours of “gangsta” video they
indoctrinate themselves with 24/7. Trayvon would more likely
emulate his heroes—the ignorant, saggy-pants moron “gangsta”
rappers. I suspect Zimmerman, his Batman fantasy destroyed by a
teenager emulating what a witness called “mixed martial arts,”
shot this kid the minute Trayvon stopped pounding him. By any
measure, Zimmerman’s act was one of cowardice. “Stand your
ground.” Did Zimmerman fear for his life? Maybe. But the
inarguable point was he brought the incident on himself. Is my
scenario the correct one? We’ll never know. But I find it
difficult to believe Martin was a killer. If he acted
aggressively, if he said aggressive things, its because that’s
what urban teens do, mostly out of fear. I believe Martin had
every reason to fear this stranger following him in the dark. I
don’t believe the gun came into play during the struggle. If it
had, if Zimmerman could have reached it during their encounter,
I doubt he’d have taken the beating he claims to have taken.
I believe the fight was over. I believe Trayvon Martin let go of
George Zimmerman, intending to move on. And the moment Zimmerman
was no longer getting his head pounded, he pulled a gun and shot
him. That’s what I think happened. Sadly, the only person who
know for sure is Zimmerman himself, who is unlikely to ever
provide an honest account of that night, and Trayvon Martin, who
can’t provide one.
Christopher J. Priest
20 May 2012
16 June, 14 July 2013 Updated
editor@praisenet.org
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