'Stand Your Ground' draws a dangerous line between two worlds

"I am Trayvon.”

Sometimes it's written in block letters across the shoulders of a hooded sweat shirt, sometimes in the somber, angry expression on the wearer's face beneath the upturned hood.

As hundreds of Iowans gathered this week to demand justice for the slain Florida 17-year-old, many had stories to share about their own, unwitting suspiciousness: Walking too slowly, walking too fast, talking too loudly, being there at all - you never can tell what will make a passing driver reach over and lock his door; a woman pull her kids a little closer; a store clerk follows your movements with an icy glare.

It's a humiliation most people of color I know say they've experienced at least once. For some, it's almost routine - an annoying background signal that says no matter who you are or what you do, you'll always be a suspect in some peoples' eyes.

At the same time, there are folks out there thinking: “I am George Zimmerman,” the neighborhood watch volunteer who shot the unarmed Trayvon Martin in the chest on his way home from the store.

Although the initial report depicted a man suspicious because Martin was “walking slowly in the rain,” Zimmerman says Trayvon attacked him, leaving some people thinking: Just because all black men wearing hoodies aren't criminals doesn't mean that none ever are. Why should I be a victim?

And between these very different worlds lies Florida's “Stand Your Ground” law, which allows citizens to use deadly force if they only feel threatened. What a dangerous line to draw.

Iowa House members passed a similar law this month, but it died in the Senate. The bill's sponsor, Rep. Matt Windschitl, R-Missouri Valley, says he'll bring it up again.

I can't help but think back to a March day five years ago, when a University of Iowa junior walked into an environmental science lecture wearing a hoodie and a ski mask.

The horrific Virginia Tech shootings still were fresh. A petrified classmate called police, who cornered the hoodie-wearer. He told them he was cold. They released the student - embarrassed and irate, but alive.

Was Zimmerman in mortal danger? Or was he fending off that same boogeyman that makes some people cross the street when young black men approach?

Five hundred, 1 million, 2 million hoodies worn in solidarity won't bring Trayvon Martin back to tell his side of the story.

Comments: (319) 339-3154;jennifer.hemmingsen@sourcemedia.net

CORRECTION: An earlier version of this column detailed alleged injuries sustained by Zimmerman which have since been called into question.