Trayvon and Marijuana

Trayvon and Marijuana

 

Like many people, I have frittered away too many hours this past month on the George Zimmerman trial.  Two things about that trial left bad tastes in my mouth – one big and one small.  The big one was the poor job that the prosecutors did, but the small one is what I want to talk about: marijuana.

The medical examiner testified about the manner and cause of death of Trayvon Martin, but one line of his technical report was singled out for attention: marijuana was detected in Trayvon’s blood.  No evidence was introduced about how much “marijuana” (THC?) was found, nor whether it was ingested an hour before death or a month before, nor whether it was enough to have any effect on his behavior or attitude nor what that effect would be.  All that was introduced was … marijuana was found.

The marijuana report was not discussed, the word itself was enough to become a part of the portrait of Trayvon Martin silently, but thoroughly, drawn by the defense.

Trayvon was
            a young Black male
                        with a gold tooth cap
                                    wearing a hoodie
(insert here a grainy, high-angled surveillance photo of a man in a hoodie confronting a convenience store clerk – just like the hold-up scene shown on the if-it-bleeds section of every local newscast)
                                                who smokes pot.

Trayvon, then, is a Black, blinged-out, hoodie-wearing gangbanger.  Be very afraid!

Trayvon uses marijuana, but he is not
-- Barak Obama, who went to Harvard Law and the White House, or
-- Professor X, consultant to NASA, who explained the Cosmos to everyone, or
-- Satchmo Armstrong, extraordinary musician and good-will ambassador, or
-- Willie Nelson, still singing, touring, and sponsoring benefits at seventy-five.

No, Trayvon is none of these; he is a dope-smoking Gangsta out to kill us all.

Be very afraid!

Trayvon’s story shows that we have a lot of P.R. work we need to do.  Let’s get busy.