Teen's death raises painful, pressing questions [View all]
By Leonard Pitts Jr.
6:00 a.m. EDT, March 18, 2012
They do not see you.
For every African-American, it comes as surely as hard times, setback and tears, that moment when you realize somebody is looking right at you and yet, not seeing you -- as if you had become cellophane, as if you had become air, as if somehow, some way, you were right there and yet at the same time, not.
Ralph Ellison described that phenomenon in a milestone novel that begins as follows: "I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe. Nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids -- and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me."
Trayvon Martin was killed Feb. 26 in Sanford, Fla., fully 60 years after Ellison published "Invisible Man." The circumstances of the unarmed 17-year-old's death suggest that even six decades later, invisibility plagues black folks, still.
It happened like this. He was visiting his father, watching hoops on television. At halftime, he left his dad's townhouse in a gated community and walked to a 7-Eleven for snacks. There was a light drizzle and he was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and jeans. On the way back, he drew the attention of George Zimmerman, captain of the Neighborhood Watch. Mr. Zimmerman, who is white, called police from his SUV and told them he was following a "suspicious" character. The dispatcher promised to send a prowl car and told Mr. Zimmerman to stay in his vehicle.
more:http://www.baltimoresun.com/news/opinion/oped/bal-teens-death-raises-painful-pressing-questions-20120316,0,1862120.story