Ashanti McLaurin stands for a portrait on Thursday, Oct. 20, 2022, at the University of Pittsburgh in Oakland. (Photo by Stephanie Strasburg/PublicSource)
The day before my 11th birthday, Trayvon Martin was killed, awakening me to the reality that people are still learning to hate the body I’m living in.
First-person essay by Ashanti McLaurin, PublicSource
You may recognize and even relate to a body like mine.
I stand at 5 feet 3 inches. I have birthmarks and moles that cover my face, legs and arms. I have asthma, so I have to carry an inhaler. And I’m a college cheerleader, so I’m pretty flexible and I’m described as strong and athletic.
But you could not handle my body.
You could not handle being watched when you’re shopping in the grocery store. You could not handle hearing “Suspect is a hostile dark figure who has thuggish tendencies.” You could not handle what would happen after those words are spoken.
If you were living every day in my body, you would not know what to do or how to react.
For a long time, I also didn’t know how people treated bodies like mine differently. I lived my best years as a child not knowing, until I was taught that it was a requirement for me to know.
“If you were living every day in my body, you would not know what to do or how to react. “
I grew up being able to play outside freely without fearing for my life, unlike 12-year-old Tamir Rice, who was gunned down playing with a toy BB gun, and being able to sleep in my princess-decorated room without worrying about intruders, unlike 7-year-old Aiyana Jones, who was sleeping on the couch until her apartment was raided by police.
On Feb. 26, 2012, a day before my 11th birthday, I witnessed what my family warned me about. My grandmother, father and other family members rushed into our living room and turned on the television. An unarmed teen had been killed in Sanford, Florida. I wondered why anyone would want to hurt a teenager. I was about to be a teenager, too, so who would want to hurt a kid like me? I learned later that the kid was Trayvon Martin, and the person who killed him was George Zimmerman.
“Over a pack of Skittles and a can of Arizona tea, can you believe it?” my grandmother said.
Read entire story here
About Post Author
