DAY 1
I
t is noon on Friday. We march out of Daisy Stocking Park through the campus of Bethune Cookman University and onto the streets. As I look down at my already sore feet and around at the other college students who took time out of their hectic lives to make the four-and-a-half hour drive to Daytona Beach. “Are we really walking 40 miles?” Gabe Pendas, organizer of a student activism coalition known as the Dream Defenders, asked us to think about the purpose of the march. The words “Why are you here?” played continuously in my head as we completed the first 10 miles of the march. While cameras flashed and news reporters gracefully interrupted our “alone time,” questions were running through my head. “Will we be arrested?” “What are we getting accomplished?” “ But one will always stay in the back of my mind: “What dream am I defending?” This march was inspired by the 1965 march from Selma to Montgomery, Ala. during the civil rights movement. Nearly 47 years later, we have resumed our parents’ battle
T
he night of February 26 on his way to his father’s house, Trayvon Martin joined a long list of robbery victims. Martin Lee Anderson’s adolescence was stolen. Sean Bell’s happy marriage was stolen. Troy Davis’s freedom was stolen. Emmett Till’s life was stolen. These are only a few of the many African-American males whose lives have been cut short at the hands of itchy-fingered vigilantes and a faulty criminal justice system. Chances are, if you own a television, computer, or have stepped outside of your house in the past month you know the story of Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman. But only after facing this injustice directly, did I learn to appreciate what this movement really meant. The weekend of April 6 sparked a deep interest in me to continue the work – the work to steal the dream back and the work to move the state of Florida beyond Trayvon Martin and the shackles of modern-day Jim Crow mentalities. Our mission: Zimmerman’s arrest. Our spirit: UNSTOPPABLE.
cry and carried this spirit through the streets of Sanford because, like our predecessors, even in 2012, we are treated as second-class citizens and governed under a faulty justice system. At the end of the day we walked to a juvenile detention center in Daytona Beach. The 40 of us held hands in a circle as we prayed for the young men in the center and reflected. At that moment we discovered another part of the dream. Just like there are hundreds of other Trayvon Martin’s, there are hundreds of juvenile detention centers being occupied. I stood there and reflected I realized that we have so little of the dream left to defend. For years we have fought for freedom, citizenship, and equal rights but our dream has been stolen.
DAY 2
S
ince our journey began yesterday, we have received support nationwide support from public figures including the support of Jeff Johnson, an award-winning journalist, social activist, and political commentator that is also marching with us.
My fellow protestors have made their voices heard on the “Tom Joyner Morning Show” and the Dream Defenders have been featured on CNN. We have now covered more than 21 miles with no clear end in sight. Filling the air with chants and soulful songs of continuing the struggle for justice, our march continues.
DAY 3
T
he Dream Defenders attend a local church where we are allowed to operate the service in order to spread our message. We are supported by the congregation and the members of the community who stand with us in solidarity for the arrest of Zimmerman and justice for the countless African-Americans like us who’s names remain unknown and cases stay unsolved.
DAY 4
M
onday, April 9, the real work begins. Around 9:30 a.m. we walk to the Sanford Police Department and hold a peaceful protest, an example of the “non-violent civil disobedience” that has been drilled into our heads since day one. For about seven hours we sing, chant and form a human barrier around a building that has served
as a symbol of injustice, demanding its would-be inhabitants take action. That day we successfully shut down the Sanford police department, spoke with the city manager, held a press conference for the community and spoke with the special prosecutor on the Trayvon Martin case, admittedly more than I bargained for when I stepped on the bus days ago. Marching from Daytona Beach to Sanford we encompassed the thoughts and actions of that old civil rights protest. We became a diverse network of students, alumni, youth and young adults from across the nation. As we walked the streets of Daytona, Deland, DeBary and Sanford in solidarity, the feeling was inexplicable. To play a small part in such a transformative movement was difficult to take in. Throughout the trip we were reminded of the number 40. Forty of us walked 40 miles 40 days after the murder of Trayvon Martin. But, it does not end here. When the buses return to campus, sit silently in our classes, make our way across the Set and continue our daily lives, we will continue to build on our experience and lay the foundation for future activism. We will persist until justice is served, working tirelessly defend the dream.