I told you earlier that I wouldn’t write again about Trayvon Martin. You can see that post here.

But I remember a dialogue I had with a woman that I used to know. She’s a writer; like me, only successful. A college professor with a talent for long, well written posts that checked off every liberal box. It was as if she were running for state senator for the Green Party.

The two of us sparred, first a little, and then a lot. I remember her criticizing me about not acknowledging Zimmerman’s racial heritage. I remember her suggesting that the murder was motivated as much by class as it was by race. I remember feeling frustrated, because my thoughts wouldn’t fit into the little dialogue boxes.

I was coming from an emotional place – I’ve been in Martin’s place more than I can name. She was coming from a purely intellectual place. She was well read, and most of her friends are probably academics.  She wanted to frame the discussion in terms that she was familiar with. I wanted her to understand that this loss was personal to me. I have two step sons and a nephew. I expect both of them to live their lives as the adventures that God intends. I don’t want them to die.

Once, on a busy street in Center City Philadelphia, an intoxicated white woman noticed me walking behind her. She screamed and sprinted ahead. Stand your ground is a law in Pennsylvania, too. She obviously felt threatened be me… so she could have legally taken my life? It’s such a slippery slope when people can kill because they feel intimidated. About to make me start packing heat…

We haven’t talked in a while. I don’t think we will anymore.

I didn’t understand how she could attempt to take a moral high ground concerning this. I know her. She’s cool. She voted for Obama, and I’m pretty sure she never says the N word, even when she’s all alone in her car listening to 50 Cent. She just had this blind spot. She could trade bumper sticker platitudes (I’m sure some of her best friends are Black.) But she wasn’t willing to leave her comfort zone.

It occurred to me, weeks later, that there was absolutely no reason for her to do so. She had nothing to gain and a lot to lose. Ideological comfort has got to be pretty high on the hierarchy of needs, just behind shelter and food. It is, after all, the stuff that community is made of.

That’s why I choose to care about how LGTB people of color are being treated. Because I’ve expected a whole lot from my white friends in the past concerning race issues. But what about all of those injustices that I have brushed off, real casual, because it doesn’t effect me.

Well, this is miles from my comfort zone. And, by the way, I don’t see this as becoming a regular thing…And I am in no way an expert on this stuff… I don’t even claim to understand some of it. But every once in a while something will catch my attention, and I’ll talk about it.

If you think I’m coming across kind of ignorant, let me know. This is new territory. Maybe I’ll agree with you, maybe not.

Anyway, check out this post I wrote about Raven Symone. She came out, you know.