Trayvon Martin‘s story could one day be my son’s story.  Like Trayvon, my son is black.  Right now it doesn’t affect his life much–but one day (in 11 years) he’ll be a 17-year-old black man walking the streets in a predominately white neighborhood.  By virtue of his skin color, he will be suspicious.  I thought I had come to grips with this.  I thought I was prepared.

I am not prepared for the possibility that my son could be the victim of this type of crime.  Trayvon did nothing wrong.  The man who shot him wanted to shoot him.  The man who shot him hunted him down.  The man who killed him, felt that he was justified.  That is what scares me the most.  What happens when Noah forgets his key and climbs through the front window our house in our mostly white neighborhood?  I haven’t forgotten about what happened to Henry Gates at his own home in Cambridge.

I struggle for the words to express my fears for my son.  You think the world is different and has changed, when in reality that is something we tell ourselves to feel better.  We live in a pretty isolated world.  My kids go to private school with people who love them and see them as people.  They have family and friends who love them.  But events like this break the illusion.  Events like this make me question how we allow things like this to happen. Events like this make me realize that race matters; perhaps even more now than previously.  Race matters more now, because we have become complacent.  Race matters because so many people think it doesn’t.  It matters to Trayvon and his family.  It matter to the man who shot and killed Trayvon simply because he was black and perceived to not belong.

It is time that all of us stood for justice.  This isn’t just an issue for the black community to take a stand on.  This is an issue for all of us to take a stand on.  By doing nothing, by not acting we send the message that Trayvon doesn’t matter.  By doing nothing, by not acting we say to all other black males–you deserve what you get.  That is not a message I will send to my son.  That is not a message I will send to someone else’s son.  Everyone matters.  And it is time we stand up and shout “Being Black doesn’t make someone guilty, suspicious or dangerous.”

I live with immense privilege.  I accept that privilege, but with it comes a responsibility.  My son and daughter enjoy some of the privilege that I have.  But as soon as they are old enough to be out on their own–the privilege disappears.  Because of this, I cannot afford to be complacent.  I cannot afford to turn a blind-eye when injustice happens.  I cannot afford to let my children think that their skin color doesn’t matter.  Because it does to so many people.  Because it will be the first thing people judge them by.  Because it will lead to my son and daughter being followed through the store as they shop with friends.  It will lead to other parents not wanting their child to date mine.  It will lead to my son being pulled over as he leaves a friends house on a Friday night.

We can’t stand by and allow it to be okay.  We have to be aware of our own bias and actively fight against it.

Today, I stand in solidarity with Trayvon Martin’s family. Today, I stand with my son.