Our Sons

I think it was the Skittles that really broke my heart. Trayvon Martin had Skittles candy and a bottle of tea in his hand-it's the same thing Aaron picks out when we stop for gas or a snack on the way home from school sometimes. Children are killed in our country, children are brutally murdered in our country every year. That is a sad, but true fact and those murders often make headlines. Why have I felt Trayvon Martin's death so personally? I think it is because, as I said on Facebook one day, he could be my son. My son, only a few years younger, plays sports, loves Skittles, watches the NBA and doesn't always make the wisest of decisions. My son loves wearing hoodies. Walking to a nearby store at night for candy, even if it was ill advised, would be the type of decision I could see Aaron making. So I could easily see this boy as my son, or one of his friends. As a mother I can only imagine the pain another mother is, and has been, feeling this past month. It wrenches my soul. There is no greater sorrow than to lose a child, and to lose one in such a senseless and terrible way must bring both pain and anger I can't even fathom.

Is anger the way we should react? I have anger. I have anger with myself that this story made headlines for weeks before I learned about it...on Twitter....from LeBron James. Really? Am I an adult? But at least I learned. I talked about it with my children. My son, who looked at the pictures of the Heat in their hoodies and wanted to take one himself. My daughter, only two years younger than Trayvon, would have gone to school with him in a different place. They discuss it in her social studies class. I wonder about those discussions, in a school where she has heard the word n**** used in the hall as a racial slur numerous times.
I don't know exactly what happened in that neighborhood on that night, but I know a child died. I don't know if his attire, or his skin color, had anything to do with it. Hopefully, these things will be answered over the weeks to come and will be reported to us openly and honestly.
I've already said Trayvon somehow reminded me a bit of my son.Would the color of my son's skin save him on a dark night in a neighborhood? I don't know. It's a question I've asked myself, I think it's a question maybe many of us have asked ourselves. Perhaps it's a question, or a fact, that has allowed some of us to distance ourselves from this case. To not be as outraged as we should. It's an uncomfortable task, to examine your own deepest prejudices, to examine the racial bias of your community or country. I don't know where this country needs to go from here, but I know this-if I have any more children they would look much more like Trayvon than their brother and sister. And I know this, if those children would not be safe because of their skin color on that same street than this is an America I don't want to live in. If those children would not have every opportunity because of their skin color as the two I already have, then it's an America I don't want to live in.
In the America I want to live in, they will be treated exactly the same in school, have the same opportunity to go to the college they choose, succeed in the career they want, have a family. In the America I want to live in, young men can walk down a street and not be shot-not by young men of their own race, not by men protected by misguided "self defense laws", not by any sort of statistic just waiting to make the nightly news. But the America I live in...has some work to do and we should not need the death of a child to remind us. Perhaps if we are willing to ask the hard questions and learn the hard lessons, we can build a better country for the family Trayvon Martin left behind and the families yet to come.

**Footnote: (all references to any future children are hypothetical, Mom. I'm not having any more kids at this time or in the foreseeable future)

A Letter to Peyton Manning

(You, Peyton)

Dear Peyton,
I've been there. Believe me, I've been there. You have a job you like, maybe even think you love. You've been there a long time, longer than many others. People tell you you are good at it, you seem popular even though you make a few mistakes. Sure you have some critics and you don't have as many big awards (Superbowl Trophies, ahem, ahem) as some might like-but you're doing pretty well for yourself. Then-BAM!- management decides you are not exactly the direction of the future. Maybe you just don't fit in. And suddenly you are unemployed....
It's disorienting, although it appears you handled it pretty well with the National Manning Interest Tour of teams. Not all of us had that luxury, but I digress. You landed on your feet just fine. You found a new job. Who knows, maybe you will even be better at this one. Maybe your new job will let you use skills you didn't know you had, show sides of your personality that you couldn't before. Maybe you will feel free to speak your mind, voice your beliefs, have a social life and not have to worry who is watching or agreeing with you.
Perhaps Denver holds wonderful new friends for you. People who are fun, and who want you to be fun too. People who laugh at your jokes and who have open minds. People who support you in every decision. Perhaps you will have a stronger line blocking for you, so you won't get knocked down and feel left to fend for yourself. Perhaps your new coach has nothing but the best planned for you and will develop a plan to get you there.

(Still You,Peyton)

It won't be long and you might not even recognize the person you were in Indianapolis. You might wonder why you stayed  there so long. Your smile might be wider, your jokes will actually  be funnier. You will look younger because you are more relaxed. Your kids (do you have kids?) will like you better because you have time for them, even though you may be working harder because success in this new place is suddenly so important to you. Your social life will improve with all these new friends you are about to make. Maybe you are making less money (No, wait you are not making less money. In fact, you have more money than God) but you are squeaking by.

(Not you, but is this really about you?)

In short this new life will take some adjusting but you will reinvent yourself in Denver. The person you may become will be one who likes himself and everyone around him. You will be happier and healthier. Leaving Indianapolis-however you did it-will be the best decision you ever made. When you say your prayers at night you will Thank God for guiding you down this path and placing all of these wonderful new people in it. You will remember that he has a plan if you will just trust him. He knows what he is doing with you, Peyton. He knows what he is doing with all of us. After all, I've been there.
Your biggest fan,
Jean Ann