Continued from Part 1

Thank you Sacramento Press: Our Cries echo- contnued

Last month I attended a justice march and rally. An elderly man walked with the group from the District Attorney's office to Sacramento superior court and then we walked to the federal courthouse. The man carried one of the signs provided by the organizers of the march which mentioned criminal justice system unfair to minorities. The man was Caucasian. His middle-aged son said, "Dad, you are not a minority why are you carrying the sign?" The elderly man said, "It's the only one they have and we're here due to an unfair court." I saw a man who was not black, walking in pain due to court misconduct, who had to settle on a sign regarding race when his pain was due to court injustice.

I'm taking steps towards healing by walking beyond race. I don't want to walk on a treadmill. I can't live in the past when I am looking for a future. Having attended so many youth violence meetings, summits, workshops, funerals and courts I don't see things as I did in 2005. For me race is a distraction, and too many will focus on race when our focus should be on life and freedom of all of Sacramento's sons and daughters. When you've seen so many in a great deal of pain you don't want distractions. If I were shot and in the hospital I would not want anyone to look at the fact a black woman is shot. I would want you to look at how to prevent shootings. I would want you to look at my wounds and not my color. It is my wound which causes me pain. I would not want the fact death would be overshadowed by meetings on race. As people met to discuss racial concerns homicide concerns would take a back-seat.

I truly, with all my heart appreciate being among the winners of the Sacramento Press journalism award. With all my heart, I appreciate the beautiful words written about the article I wrote, but I must pay homage to those who have lost their lives and those who are in pain due to the death or arrest of their loved one, and I must do so in truth and not focus solely on African American youth. Addressing youth violence goes beyond color, beyond boundaries, beyond territory, beyond gang-like mentality.

When I would visit my son in jail, I would sit next to mothers of different ethnic backgrounds visiting their sons and on the way out we all cried colorless tears. I don't imagine a mother, who is not black, walking into her dead child's room and finding any comfort in the fact youth of their ethnic background have died less than youth of my ethnic background. I don't think they find comfort in their ethnic background when they have lost a child they loved. Pain goes beyond color. In fact, pain is stronger than color.

With all my heart I appreciate the award, but I could not in good conscience, in the spirit of love, not correct the fact the youth I wrote of were not only African Americans. I've seen too many colorless tears and I pray for resources for all. I mentioned of all the times I was outraged, but once I left my comfort zone, my outrage left from focusing on my ethnic background when I began to see so many more in the same pain. I walked throughout the city of Sacramento until I walked out of my skin and saw the pain of so many more.

In 2005 I was outraged when I saw a room filled with people to address police brutality and no rooms filled with people to address youth on youth violence I was outraged when every month in 2005 and sometimes more than once a month black youth died at the hands of another black youth. I was outraged when I attended a funeral of a murdered teen and the pastor said, "If anyone sees someone from my congregation hanging out on the corner call me and I will go get them". I sat in disbelief and wondered, "What kind of man are you who have 100 sheep and one is lost, that you don't leave the 99 and go out into the wilderness to get the one which is lost?" I wondered, why does the youth have to be from your congregation? I kept seeing gang-like mentality.

I never knew where this journey would take me but it took me beyond race. In 2005 I saw racial neglect but I didn't see it solely as black and white. I saw many people of different ethnic backgrounds overlooking or dismissing the deaths of someone just like themselves if they had a questionable past. I saw many people who would blanket us, cover us up as if we did not exist. I saw many who would uncover us once funding became available. I learned gang-like mentality is not just among youth or those identified as gang members. I've also learned money is valued more than many people. I learned it is not racial. Crime does pay. I learned many of us - of all ethnic backgrounds- have become commodities. I learned many of all ethnic backgrounds are overlooked as many focus on political careers, their organizations and their departments for money. I learned many will be divided, overshadowed, overlooked by grant funding.

In addressing youth violence I learned to see beyond my color and I learned too see all our sons and daughters. I pay homage to the deceased and the families of all ethnic backgrounds. When I learned to see "one of our own" means more than color, my vision was no longer clouded with distractions of race and my outrage turned to genuine concern for the life and freedom of all our son's and daughters.

By the Grace of God, I learned to see love and not the color of a person's skin. I learned to see pain and not distractions. I have met so many wonderful people African American, Caucasian, Latino, Native American, Chinese, Hmong, Mien, Lao, East Indian, Samoan, Japanesse, Filipino, Pacific Islander.. each concerned with life and freedom of all our sons and daughters. Since 2005 I have met people from all walks of life, all faiths, those who do not believe in organized religion or don't believe in religiion at all, people from different economic, social, ethnic backgrounds willing to address youth violence in the spirit of Love.

The common denominator is LOVE and not COLOR. I learned, by seeing so much unconditional love, to go beyond writing an article solely on African American youth when so many more are dying on our streets or sentenced to live and die in a California State Prison. I learned to see beyond race when some within the same ethnic background would dismiss the life and freedom and when I saw people of all ethnic backgrounds will address life and freedom. I learned in addressing youth violence not to generalize people by ethnic, economic, religious or social status. I learned many of us -- divided into communities of victims and suspects -- are loved conditionally when funding is available. And equally important I learned many more love us unconditionally.

Again, thank you Sacramento Press for extending love and hearing the cries of all affected and exposed to violence. I am truly honored to receive second place when so many community members wrote such wonderful articles.

Rhonda Erwin