Jacqueline Keeler: Trayvon Martin case too familiar to Indians

When I heard of George Zimmerman’s acquittal, my thoughts went not to my 10-year-old son, but to my dad, when he was 18. I avoided coverage of the trial because I knew the unrepentant Zimmerman defense would blame his victim, Trayvon Martin, for his own death. I knew that listening to it would mean listening again to the same old ugliness that has plagued this country since Columbus first landed on an island in the New World he named San Salvador (the savior), a prophetic name that could also be used to describe Zimmerman’s view of himself and his volunteer work as a member of the neighborhood watch. "These guys all get away," said Zimmerman after he shooting the 17-year-old. “I feel it was all God’s plan.” I say, it all sounds too familiar.

And so it was after the verdict, I thought of my dad when he was 18, unarmed and facing down a gun pointed at him by a white man he had known his entire life. This was not during the Jim Crow era in the United States and my dad was not black, but a mixed-blood Dakota Sioux Indian.

It’s funny to think that in most South Dakota border towns, even today, Zimmerman—who looks more Indian than white—would be subject to the exact same scrutiny that he gave Trayvon Martin, that he could even be struck down under very similar circumstances. The line in the sand of “race” or “caste” is a tricky one as you move around the country; which side you fall on is an educated guess at best, but getting it right can mean the difference between life and death.