Suffice to say, that until two weeks ago, I had never heard of Ferguson, Missouri.
I've never even been in the state of Missouri. I've heard wonderful things about the African American cultural scene in St. Louis in the past, however, now I'm not so sure I want to visit.
Despite the many and varied reports of what really happened two Saturdays ago in Ferguson, Missouri when Michael Brown and his friend encountered Ferguson Police Officer, Darren Wilson, the only things we can be certain of, are the facts revealed in the coroner's report. Michael Brown was shot six times, twice in the head, after essentially being stopped for, what amounts to a form of "jaywalking."
What we can almost be certain of is that there is likely going to be no jail time for the cop who killed the unarmed 18 year old. After all, the burden of proof rests with the prosecution and as of this writing, Officer Darren Wilson hasn't even been charged with a crime.
One thing we do know is that something has to be done. We have to seriously address the issue of why our young black men are dying (not only by each other's hands) but far too often, at the hands of the law enforcement whose job it is to "protect and serve."
I don't have a son, but if I did, I'd be afraid to let him out of my sight. And for sure, I'd sit down with him and we'd watch "Fruitvale Station" together.
Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't following you.