Stones' Diary: Built for Pressura'

Chapter 7.) The Cake Thief

"Wait... go back... did that really say the jurors let the cop off for shooting an unarmed black teenager ten times in the back? Did we read that correctly?"

"Y'all read that right," Dajon nodded before going to the next slide, "His name was Darren Wilson... he was a teenager."

"So... I know this will be stupid for me to say, but the freaking proof was in his murder... how the heck did they let him off?"

Taking a deep breath, Dajon spun the chair momentarily before placing his hands on top of his head, "What was our topic?"

"How race influences trials," they spoke simultaneously.

"And the jury," he added, "the grand jury consisted of nine white and three black individuals... so tell me something, did Darren's family have a fair trial when his justice was put into a vast majority of white people with only three black people that were outnumbered?"

There was silence.

"You guys are free to respond," he said.

"It wasn't," they answered.

"But with the three black people, shouldn't there have been some kind of advantage to win the majority vote or argument?" one young man asked.

Dajon stared at him for a moment then placed his hands on the desk, "Look at it this way... three little boys selling lemonade at a park, getting fined, and harassed by a white cop. Then we have three little white girls doing the same but instead of receiving the treatment the young black boys did, the cops buys thirty dollars worth of lemonade then takes a picture... do you see where I'm going with this?"

"This is one screwed-up system," someone muttered.

"The world is screwed up," the young woman corrected, "Imagine being stolen from your land, beaten, raped, lynched, skinned, ripped in half, put on display like some animal, set on fire, and forced to build up a country that wasn't even ours or theirs, to begin with. Imagine being forced to live in a country that isn't yours where you still have to fight for equality and to be treated as a human only to steal get kicked on, murdered, and poked at but are told to turn the other cheek. The justice system was never put in place in favor of those who are not white and this country had no business being stripped from Natives who were minding their damn business, nor did my ancestors deserve to be stolen and separated from loved ones, to travel across the damn water to be treated as welcome mats and punching bags."

Dajon's head unconsciously tilted as he stared at her, "What is your name?"

"Marsha," she shifted her gaze to her binder.

"Do me a favor, Marsha," he smiled, "Move down to the front row."

As she gathered her things, Dajon glanced at his watch then looked around the room for a while before he clicked on the next slide and allowed the narrator to read the notes before he reiterated for the graduates.

"As the video was trying to explain, but what I want you all to take from that is that there has been proven studies that show that when it comes to a black man or woman, but mostly a black man going on trial in front of a jury that has a high count of white jurors, the black defendant is more likely to be convicted than if the defendant were a white person," he paused then cleared his throat, "In the same sense, if there happens to be a grand jury that has a vast majority of black individuals and the person on trial is black or another minority, the black jurors are less likely to vote guilty."

"Isn't that bias tho?" a young white woman quizzed.

Dajon smirked, "Would someone like to answer?"

"It's not biased when you have someone who can relate to having the fate of your life in their hands. I would prefer to have an all-black jury on trial for a murder of an unarmed black man or woman than to have white people on the jury when we all know they will vote against the victim."