This white, Midwestern mom has her hoodie on.  Do you?

As you can see, there is no danger of my being racially profiled.  None whatsoever.

But today, on the United Nations’ International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination, I wear my hoodie in solidarity with those who are.

On February 26, the anniversary of the day I became a mother, another mom lost her boy forever–a 17-year-old named Trayvon Martin.

I’m a white, Midwestern mom, and my heart aches for Sybrina Fulton.  It aches for all mothers who lose their children to stupid, senseless, preventable violence.

I wear hoodies pretty frequently, but I don’t always challenge myself to think outside my own narrowly defined box.  In a show about the case that aired on NPR, I heard a caller say that the Martin killing is every African-American parent’s deepest, most terrifying anxiety about their child.

Me?  I wouldn’t think twice about allowing my 17-year-old son go out for a bag of Skittles and iced tea.  Before he left, though, I might encourage him to buy diet Coke and a granola bar instead.  Or I’d ask him to bring home a carton of milk.  I would never, ever imagine that some gun-toting FBI wannabe would have a paranoid freakout and shoot him.

And that, my friends, is what we mean when we talk about white privilege.  Freedom of movement is a privilege.  It ought to be a right, but in a racist, armed-to-the-teeth America, it’s not.

Mull on that while you put your own hoodie up.

To join the Million Hoodie March in NYC, visit InterOccupy.org.

A funny thing happened at SlutWalk NYC last weekend–a white woman was photographed carrying this sign:

Yes ouch can you believe it I know oh my god.  Wow.  It hurts my brain.  It makes me feel terrible.  It makes me want to hit this fellow PWW* for making me look like an asshole by association.

Racialicious posted a discussion about it, featuring comment from the woman herself, but if you’re in a hurry all you need to read is this summation by the site’s editor Latoya Peterson:

Slutwalk is one of the many long, long conversations about relationships between feminism, racism, class, nation-states, colonization, and power… some people don’t want to understand why women of color would be angry at that phrase, and they don’t care why John Lennon isn’t the best representative on race issues.  

Ironically, I’m working on a piece today that’s NOT about SlutWalk (or at least it wasn’t a minute ago), but about a very heartfelt and thought-provoking discussion on racism that occurred in my neighborhood last week.  It was sponsored by Building Bridges, a new south Minneapolis organization that “seeks to understand how race and racism impact our communities and to build the future of our neighborhoods together.”  The group brought local-girl-made-good Michele Norris to town to discuss her memoir The Grace of Silence, selected as the first book in the city-wide One Minneapolis One Read.  Turtle Bread on 48th & Chicago was packed to the rafters with people of all colors who wanted to talk honestly about the history of racism in our community.  It was exactly the kind of nuanced discussion that, in my humble PWW opinion, has the power to make the transformative change that we claim we wish to see in the world.

And this photo turns up on Facebook.  Ugh.

In her book, Norris writes:

All the talk of postracial America betrays an all too glib eagerness to put in remission a 400 year old cancerous social disease.  We can’t put it to rest until we attend to its symptoms in ourselves and others.

I agree….but I need to take a handful of Advil first.

*privileged white woman