The mother’s crusade
Over the years, I’ve attended many events at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, but I’ve never attended one quite like Wednesday night’s event featuring Sybrina Fulton, the mother of Trayvon Martin, the 17-year-old killed by a neighborhood vigilante in Florida in 2012.
The standing-room-only crowd that filled the seminary’s largest auditorium was multi-generational and multi-racial, though skewed heavily black. Even the most eminent theologians have rarely drawn such a diverse and engaged audience to that space.
The usual suspects were there — middle-age to older white progressives, black millennials who’ve recently raised their voices protesting the police killing of Antwon Rose, their young white allies, local civil rights leader Tim Stevens, former black militants, foundation officials, community elders, artists, videographers and seminary students of all persuasions drawn by the promise of Ms. Fulton’s testimony.
Other than state Rep. Ed Gainey and Allegheny County Court of Common Pleas Judge Hugh McGough, I didn’t see any local politicians, though they could have been obscured from view in such a large crowd.
When Ms. Fulton emerged from behind the curtain for an onstage conversation with hip-hop artist and thought-leader JasiriX, whose 1Hood organization brought her to campus in partnership with the Metro Urban Institute, she was greeted by a standing ovation.
Sitting across from each other, Ms. Fulton and Jasiri-X had as intimate a conversation as two people can have with hundreds of people listening in and an army of videographers recording every word.
They talked about life and death, sorrow and regret, the arbitrariness of the law that shielded George Zimmerman from conviction, the cluelessness of media coverage, her wrestling with God after Trayvon’s murder and her bitter acknowledgment that she would gladly trade all of the subsequent acclaim she’s garnered in recent years just to have her son back again.
“For our generation, Trayvon was our Emmett Till,” Jasiri-X said before asking when she first realized Trayvon had crossed over from her family’s private tragedy to become a generalized symbol of endangered black youth.
Ms. Fulton told a fascinating story about appearing on Rev. Al Sharpton’s MSNBC program “Politics Nation” early on. Rev. Sharpton encouraged her and Trayvon’s father, Tracy Martin, to go to the “Million Hoodie Rally” in her son’s honor at Union Square in lower Manhattan that day.
Instead of the small gathering she and her ex-husband expected, they were greeted by thousands of hoodie-wearing supporters in one of New York’s most iconic urban spaces. She said it was the first time they realized that people far beyond their immediate family cared deeply about Trayvon.
Those gathered at Union Square were willing to march against the injustice inflicted on Trayvon Martin by the media that defamed him, the law that criminalized him after death, and the 28-year-old man that shot him because he was terrified of an unarmed black teenager.
Throughout her conversation with Jasiri-X, Ms. Fulton was dignified, but never stoic. There were even flashes of humor sandwiched between pathos and admonitions to young people to become politically engaged. As thoughtful as she was, she never felt prepackaged. There was nothing rote or mechanical about her delivery.
She spoke of being a working mother who never applied for the job of being the spokesperson for a movement. She was frank about preferring the obscurity of her previous life when she could “come home after work and yell at her kids” just like everyone else.
It was Ms. Fulton’s “realness” and reluctance to be perceived as anything but an ordinary woman still dealing with the tragic loss of her son that made her such a compelling speaker. She was eager to communicate her humanity to the crowd and even confessed to wanting to use a cuss word or two that evening, but refrained from doing so because she remembered she was “at a religious institution.”
During the Q&A session that followed, a line of people rushed to microphone stands placed a few feet from the stage. One woman thanked Ms. Fulton for modeling behavior she emulated when her own brother was shot and killed years later. She also thanked Ms. Fulton for inspiring her to find her voice after she was sexually assaulted.
Ms. Fulton seemed genuinely startled, but appreciative of the young woman’s struggle and eloquence. It was a stunning moment that caused everyone in the room to hold their breath.
It was not the last of the evening’s stunning moments. JasiriX called on the activist Leon Ford, Jr., a candidate for the District 9 City Council seat currently held by Rev. Ricky Burgess, to say a few words.
In 2012, Mr. Ford was shot by a Pittsburgh police officer in what quickly devolved from a case of mistaken identity during a car stop that left him wheelchair bound.
Mr. Ford read a fiery, but supremely eloquent piece he wrote that was recently accepted for publication in a journal of black scholarship. His friend, author John Edgar Wideman, encouraged him to submit it. It was easily one of the most riveting pieces I’ve ever heard and it was a delight to hear Mr. Ford read it aloud.
It was a perfect end to an evening of both thoughtful reflection and serious engagement. In 1955, Emmett Till’s mother insisted on an open casket to show America’s its racism and brutality. Her sacrifice helped jump-start the civil rights movement. Since 2012, Sybrina Fulton has chosen to open her heart.