I Only See Heartbeats
I just finished a two-week trek across my beautiful country. Hesitant to leave an intense month with my company, Agent of Change, I took a leap into uncertainty for the two reasons - business networking and purposeful healing. Never in my mind did I think this journey would become a wake up call of deep-rooted reality. This has been a pivotal turning point in my own life and many others within my reach.
My personal discovery began at the infamous Summit Series’ ‘Summit Outside’, a platform for 850 brilliant do-gooders to connect, develop, and spark action on the recently purchased Powder Mountain in Eden, Utah. The organizers created a lush tented campground experience that was filled with everything from panel discussions to fishing and mountain biking, not to mention incredible live music performances from the likes of Thievery Corporation, Big Boi, and internationally renowned DJs. It was my fourth time attending one of their unique invitation-only gatherings since 2010 and this year I went there with the intention of seeing about 50 people I knew, all of whom I admire for their work in various industries, and bonding with some new energy. However, I never expected I would end up with a fresh new layer to my family.
On Saturday, trying to strengthen my core, I started my day in an 8:00 am yoga class followed by a 9:00 am pilates class. I went on to a workshop focused on public speaking called ‘From Stage Fright to Stage Might’ as I’ve been eager to harness certain skills and better my public voice. The incredible poet Sekou Andrews taught us about stance, breath, delivery, and determination and how crucial those factors are to getting your point across. Almost immediately I went from being scared to speak on stage to owning a bag overflowing with new tricks (the power of a great teacher, right?).
From there, I went to a Race in the USA discussion with Benjamin Jealous, President of the NAACP, and Guy Raz, Host of TED Radio Hour on NPR. While others were in workshops learning about how to better love their mate or develop their archery skills, a multi-racial group of about 40 people—predominantly black with an even blend of whites, Latinos, and Asians—joined together to listen and share their thoughts on race in today’s local and global cultures. Given the present pain of the Trayvon Martin verdict, discussion was focused on individual feelings of sadness and our collective struggle with the not guilty verdict as well as ideas on what we could do as a group to make a change. With only an hour for this discussion, as a group we seized the newly added open discussion on Sunday with the sole purpose of talking about the case.
Rachel P. Goldstein + Benjamin Jealous
However before the session ended, I faced my fears and held my hand high to speak. (Could Sekou’s recent coaching really affect me that fast? I didn’t consider it until after my public confession, but in retrospect, I can’t help but think he inspired me to lift that arm and open my mouth.) I pushed past my fear of not saying the right thing because I felt my unique voice needed to be heard….
My 68-year-old father called me the day after the verdict in pure sadness and said to me “I’m so glad your sister wasn’t a boy.” It crushed me. Truth is, I grew up in two households, one in the Bronx and the other in Manhattan, my mom’s and my dad with my stepmother from Jamaica, respectively. (My magnificent sister Joya is the result of this cross-cultural union.) I began at public school and ended up in private school on the Upper East Side. I grew up not knowing the difference between black and white, it was simply an extension of my fabric to consider us all as one. I only saw, and continue to see, heartbeats. I went on to tell the audience about my post-verdict efforts to spread the word about the Trayvon Martin Foundation via social media, and after dozens of Tweets and Facebook messages, I gasped when I saw one of my sophisticated close childhood friends post on her Facebook page, “Sad moment in America when an armed adult can follow an unarmed teen walking home alone at night, shoot him dead, and walk away a free man.” It wasn’t a comment about Black or White, it was about the facts of humanity and real talk that made me love and respect her so much more.
Sitting amidst the woods, that next day, 8,500 feet high in the open sky of Powder Mountain, 100 people gathered with an even breakdown amongst races and religions. Moderated by Binta Niambi Brown, an black lawyer who lives on Park Avenue, and Anjali Kumar, a beautiful Indian woman who is the legal aid to Warby Parker, it was a powerful, intense multi-ethnic gathering to express the pain and confusion so many were experiencing in this country. It made me realize that I am living in the civil rights movement of this era. Is everything my dad instilled in me regarding the equality of people such a far-fetched concept? Are my degrees in Cultural Anthropology and Social Sciences finally coming into play in my life? Or is it my ignorance that leads me to believe that the rest of the world just doesn’t find these issues crucial for our global connectivity? The blur between color, race, ethnicity, and culture was always in my sights: I remember writing my 8th grade paper on Dr. Martin Luther King; wasn’t every 6th grader suspended from school for writing graffiti on the walls?; breakdancing was my lunchtime activity. Admittedly, and its something I continue to work on, I tend to enclose myself in bubbles that preserve my diverse mind frame and keep me sheltered from the short-sightedness of others. Am I the one to help them? Is that my Agent of Change purpose?
The conversation continued, in unison we ALL voiced our sadness for the American people and how bigotry has affected our homes and work lives. The fact that black men have issues hailing a NYC taxicab makes me want to walk more. One black girl at this gathering, an advertising executive, broke her tough exterior walls and explained how much discrimination she has to deal with in her work place. She went on to describe how her white colleagues would tell her that her thoughts on certain urban accounts weren’t black enough, that Trayvon was killed by an ideology of an black teenager and the ignorant fear that George Zimmerman had within. She said her piece and walked off in crumbling tears. A myriad of ethnicities—rich hues of brown, deep shades of ebony, and soft tones of beige—huddled her in a circle of love that stood on the side of the group shivering with tears. A white man got up and, with total transparency, divulged his truth that he didn’t know enough about the details of the case and felt embarrassed that he wanted to help more but didn’t know how. Another beautiful black woman spoke about how when she heard the verdict she was with her white friends and for seven hours wasn’t comfortable shedding a tear until she got to call her mom. It should be noted that her mother, at 63-years-old, refused to cry because she has already seen so much injustice that she wasn’t surprised. I wanted to cry those tears for her.
Every single person was choked up with grief, confusion, and frustration at some point throughout this discussion. We ended the gathering in a circle holding hands with our fellow Summiters and, unplanned, the incredibly gifted Sekou Andrews performed his powerful poem “I Believe in America”. .
“Terrorism?… I don’t believe in foreign terrorism. I don’t need you, I believe in America. Domestic terrorism has been our reality for so many years its residue still holds us under a reign of fear that we can disappear at any given moment on the streets right here”.
No one wanted to leave that circle. We were all in pain. We were all in unity. I clammered to hug everyone I could. We were all there for each other and it was a phenomenal display of togetherness. At lunch, I ended up sitting with my new friend Ben and six other people continuing to talk. Two others were not in the original conversation but they were so captivated by the passion of our discussion that they stayed and asked questions and got deep with what was going on. One of our goals, which are being developed as part of the new Summit Series Social Justice collaborative, is to share our story with other people. The fact that these two people joined us and received us with such passion gave me hope that we got our message across. I feel that everyone who attended the two meetings will forever be bonded through unity and appreciation.
Trayvon Martin Verdict Discussion Love Circle
How can we help a nation that is in so much pain? How can I have others see what I see in the beauty and potential of all people? Why does one’s color of skin or racial background have to cause so much turmoil? As one attendee, Jason Pollack, said, “We have to dig deep and address the issues at hand. As white people we must get involved to end racism just as men have to get involved to end sexism.” In my opinion, I think if we all got past the fear of the unknown and truly come from compassion and respect for our fellow man’s history, background, and lifestyle and gather a path of hopeful individuals then this issue of racism would be no longer. Moreover, our justice system needs support and intervention as the prosecution was weak and did not provide the Trayvon Martin family with a just trial.
All of our lives were changed the night that Trayvon was killed. However, if he wasn’t, this transformational conversation would not be happening. My heart goes out to his parents and his brother who I had the privilege of meeting a few months back. He told me he wanted to become a lawyer so what happened to his brother doesn’t happen again. I bow to you, Jahvaris, as you can lead the future I believe in. It takes one breathe at a time.
Please text TMF to 50555 to donate money to the Trayvon Martin Foundation.
Posted 8 years ago by aoc-ny