I AWAKENED ON SUNDAY morning praying for America.
I prayed that I, as the black father of a black son, would be able to forgive, to heal, and to move forward.
I prayed that I, as the black father of a black son, would be able to look ahead in love rather than staring back in hate.
I prayed that I, as the black father of a boy much like the late Jordan Davis, would not be consumed with rage like Davis’ murderer, Michael Dunn.
I prayed for the state of Florida, a place where Dunn, a white man, was convicted only of second-degree attempted murder, even after admitting that he sprayed a car with bullets, killed a black boy in cold blood, and drove away with impunity.
I prayed for Florida, a place where George Zimmerman could claim celebrity status after escaping conviction for the murder of Trayvon Martin.
I prayed because I know Florida’s legacy of hating black boys goes well beyond Dunn and Zimmerman. I prayed because I know Florida’s awful truth.
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