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Sean Taylor, safety for the Washington Redskins, a man I never knew, died yesterday. When the horrific news got to me, shock gave way quickly
to an all too familiar emotion - despair. And one relentless thought.
Dammit, not
again.
You reach
for words, and profanities come to mind. Some days, nothing is as eloquent.
Another
player from "The U" (of Miami) dies young.
Again.
Another senseless homicide of a young black man. A daughter left fatherless.
Again.
"I never ever ran from the Ku Klux
Klan
I shouldn't have to run from a black
man,
'Cause that's self-destruction..."
- Kool Moe
Dee, "Self Destruction" (1988)
It is a statistical fact that the leading cause of death for black men ages 15-24 is homicide. It is also a fact that the killer is likely to be another black male.
I am a black male. I know the numbers too well. As Jemele Hill points out, we are SIX times more likely to be killed than a white male in the same age bracket.
Like a sick,
twisted, Indiana Jones movie, growing up as a young black man seems to involve avoiding death traps on a regular
basis, except that all too often, if it isn't the big, huge boulder (gang-life)
running you down, or the poison-tipped darts (drugs), or a broken education
system (over 65% of all black college students are female), it is the guns.
There are even more reasons and factors, but that is a discussion for another
day.
Worst of
all, your friends - yes, your friends can drag you down.
"Friends"
who are jealous of your success, or demand that you keep it real by being
involved in their foolishness. The road to hell is an 8-lane highway paved with
best intentions of proving that you haven't forgotten your homies.
After all
of that, institutional racism - in all it's forms - doesn't have to pick off
many men.
I can't
pass judgment on what happened Sunday night in the Taylor home. And you know something? It's really
immaterial.
Sean Taylor
was 24, and had by all accounts had truly turned his life around from a rocky
start, which makes this all even more painful. Sadly, he probably should have
moved out of Miami, as there is a fairly good case that can be made
that he knew his assailant.
Already, much
has been made about Taylor's past somehow still catching up to
him, but it really doesn't matter. Ask the late Broncos cornerback Darrant
Williams who had the misfortune of getting killed by a bullet meant for someone
else. Case still unsolved.
Ask the
Timberwolves' Antoine Walker, or the Knicks Eddie Curry. Both men were the
victim of savage home invasions, like the one that killed Sean Taylor. Neither
man has been in any trouble whatsoever with the law.
Neither story got more than a brief mention when it happened. Somehow, I have to believe that if Brett Favre was the victim of a home invasion, if Deanna Favre had a gun shoved in her face and terrorized, the story would have rated slightly more press no?
Clearly, judging by the overkill of the Michael Vick scandal, we know what would have happened if, heaven forbid, that Curry and Walker were holding guns, rather than facing one.
Our media
has a much easier time (and makes more money) envisioning black men as perps
rather than victims of violent crime.
We live in
a society that is increasingly violent. We also live in a society where even
wealth and success guarantees no real escape for some unless they are willing
to make real changes in associates and even geography. Perhaps if Taylor had made his full-time home in D.C.
instead of near his old haunts in Miami, life would have been different. It
is tragic that that would even have to be an option. But it is fact.
The deepest
feeling I have today is pain. I feel his loss the same way I felt the fall of Maurice Clarett.
The same way I may feel when I hear about the senseless loss of a young brother locally. We can't afford to lose any black men. It is hard enough already.
It is the
reason why I have contempt for writers and talking heads that wallow in barely concealed schadenfreude
when a Vick or Clarett blow their chances to escape their environments.
Yes, I know
it is good business, low hanging fruit, and easy copy, but there is a bigger story and far bigger issues.
It is far, far too personal for me. Today, yet another young black man lies dead at 24.
A father, a soon-to-be husband.
A friend and a teammate.
Another luminous
life, a world of potential snuffed out too soon.
Again.
Damn.
