Trayvon 2.0: A Creative Science Fiction Response

Trayvon_McCallas_InvertThe hunt and murder of Trayvon Martin seems like a fictionalized scene from a teen dystopian novel similar to the Hunger Games. The only problem is that this scene is real.  I’ve been keeping up with the news on this case and I am both horrified and enraged.  My feelings stem from two fronts, one because I am Black and the other because I am a mother.  The injustice boils.

During the last three weeks, I have been planning my son’s graduation from high school. My husband and I have been so proud of his accomplishments.  He’s been accepted to several colleges, but we are especially proud of his acceptance to Morehouse College. It’s almost ironic that I’ve been planning for my child to become a legacy at the most prestigious institution for Black males in the world and Trayvon’s family has been planning a funeral as well as dealing with injustice and institutionalized racism.  My heart, soul, and prayers go out to Trayvon’s parents, family, friends, and loved ones. I stand with them in understanding and solidarity. 

My son and I have talked about this situation and what we might do to help as well as support.  The injustice hurts, cuts. But, there’s something deeper here. Something deeper than seeking justice. What’s deeper? Eradicating the racial superiority mindset that put the thoughts in motion.  How do we do that?  I and other Black speculative fiction writers have discussed the power and impact of this genre on setting an agenda or dream for the future.  I truly believe that science fiction has the ability to change mindsets in our society. 

In fact, I’m making it my business to use my science fiction writing to expose that paternalistic and racial superiority complex that hunted Trayvon down like he was a character in Hunger Games.  I’m really pushing hard for other SciFi and FFP authors to desegregate their fictionalized worlds and tackle those tough issues that deal with the –isms. It’ll make a better world for us all. 

I wrote the Mathematical Genius for the State of Black SciFi 2012. It’s a short about a teen African-American male who has an innate ability to solve mathematical equations through basketball. I’ve reworked the story to include a hoodie to show support for Trayvon Martin.   If you’d like to read the updated version, I've included it at the end of this post in the comments section. 

What I’d like is for people (writers or readers of SciFi) to be a partHispanic_man_with_words_on_a_poster_stop_teaching_kids_racism of the racial healing that needs to take place by posting a creative science fiction, paranormal, futuristic, or speculative fiction piece.  Together we can stimulate a new futuristic mindset and eradicate that painful, prejudicial and racist one. I’m asking that posts be a part of the speculative fiction genre and include either a young black male with a hoodie or a young white male who overcomes his racial superiority complex.  I’m even open for posters to add both.  Posts should be about 450 words or less. I'm calling this creative SciFi endeavor, Trayvon 2.0.

I’m asking for help to make this response to what happened to Trayvon huge. Please post something, tweet/retweet #blackscifi2012 or #trayvon 2.0 and share it with SciFi writers, readers, family members, and friends.  We’ve got to do something to stimulate change. I love you all!

RIP Trayvon Martin. RIP.

Let the healing begin with Trayvon 2.0…


Abdul-Qaadir Taariq
+1 #32 Abdul-Qaadir Taariq 2012-04-10 14:50
“Shall I allow him entry?” “Stand by.” The general puts away his device pad and deactivates all of the map screens. “General Daymore you may enter.” The general walks into General Otic’s quarters. By now the General Otic is edgy. “General D-D-Daymore you are early.” “I know I wanted to complete this transaction as soon as possible.” “I have other matters that require more of my attention.” General Otic opens his view ocular. This time it shows events unfolding which involved two of their experiments. “Ah! General Daymore it seems as though I’ve won?” “Your specimen is nearly dead.” “Mine is alive and no justice by his government has been dealt to him.” “It appears he will as they say get off Scott free?” “Ha, ha.” General Daymore turns his head slightly to the left with a disgusting look toward General Otic. “I wouldn’t be so sure of a victory yet?” General Otic is angry. “What do you mean?” General Daymore then takes out his own device. “What is that you’re holding?” “You should know you have one similar to it.” “Do you not?” General Otic is speechless.

“General Otic I suggest you look closely at the view ocular.” General Otic complies. “You see I knew due to your previous losses you would as these creatures say be hard up for a win?” “So, I initiated a counter program that I call hoodie.” “This program will without a shadow of a doubt help bring justice to this creature.” “Don’t take my word for it check it for your.” General Otic interrupts. “I don’t need to check the obvious.” “I can see that once again a death dealt to a sub species such as this does not always guarantee victory?” “That is correct General Otic.” “Well I guess you have won yet again? “On the contrary these insects are predictable.” “Let’s just call this a draw and enjoy the chaos we have created.” “I’m sure it will be quite entertaining.” “You are right maybe this will result in more killings?” General Daymore smiles. “I hope not too many.” “It is always best to have a live subject.” “I have so many more medical experiments to conduct.” They both look down into the view ocular as the Trayvon Martin case makes national headlines.
Abdul-Qaadir Taariq
+1 #31 Abdul-Qaadir Taariq 2012-04-10 14:49
“Okay Otic what is the wager this time?” “You know me I would prefer this civilization to break out in an all out war.” “The more dead bodies I can add to my gallery the better.” “The museums back home could really use an up upgrade.” “Nevertheless, I think a new strategy is in order this time.” “And what is that may I ask?” General Otic uses his tentacles to magnify two inhabitants of the planet Urin-Stool on the view ocular. “I’ll wager that these two beasts will prove that their justice system is what they call a joke.” “This is in spite of your report of change they have made.” General Daymore counters General Otic’s smart remark. “They did show promise by electing what they call an African-America n as a world leader.” “I will take this bet.” “Just one thing though.” “Yes?” “What will I win if you are wrong?” “I’ve got just the thing for you.” “If you win I can assuredly convince my government to hand over let’s say 1,000 of these beast from our solar prisons.” General Daymore takes his right claw and rubs his chin while he ponders the wager. “Hmmm this sounds appealing.” “I do enjoy watching these animals scream as I conduct my medical experiments.” “To this day I don’t know if they are more in shock of seeing a higher intelligence or the pain I inflict on them?” “Well perhaps you should keep some of their vocal cords intact before you feed them to your pets?” They both laugh in agreement. “Perhaps you are right?” “Okay it’s a deal.” “I’ll be going now.” “Very well I will contact you in 6 of their days.”

6 earth (Urin-Stool) days later.

Aboard the vessel Niklon a few Zim-Klaans busy themselves for a major victory. One of them arrives in General Otic quarters. It is a dark and gloomy place. Its only illumination is from monitors that depict maps for strategizing. She speaks to General Otic. “Here General this is the information you requested. “Thank you.” “Now leave me.” “Yes General Otic as you say.” General Otic presses a sensor and says “activate stand my ground.” A series of multi-colored lights shine bright as they are reduced to half of the screen. The other half shows a picture of a resident of Urin-Stool. His name is George Zimmerman. General Otic looks at the image and repeats “stand my ground” constantly until he is interrupted by a transmission. “What is it?!” “I told you I wanted no disturbances until General Daymore arrives.” “Yes General Daymore has already arrived.”
Abdul-Qaadir Taariq
+1 #30 Abdul-Qaadir Taariq 2012-04-10 14:46
The wars of the Izims consist of two similar species. They are known as the Hood-Vahs and the Zim-Klaans. These two races are so sophisticated in their war tactics they use other cultures to fight their battles. One particular conflict took place on a backwards world known to them as Urin-Stool. It is to be noted that there war games are quite frequently played on that world. It is unclear as to why?

February 20, 2012 (Urin-Stool) calendar. The vessel Niklon orbits Urin-Stool undetected by the planets satellite security systems. Two opposing generals meet on a neutral vessel. General Otic of the Zim-Klaans speaks. “Well General Daymore we meet again?” General Daymore looks at him in apprehension. “So it would seem.” “I wonder to what do I owe this occasion? “Now Daymore this has nothing to do with currency.” “At least not this time.” “So why have you asked to see me?” “I do have more urgent matters to attend to.” “Why a simple exercise of course. “You mean another battle for me to win?” “Don’t flatter yourself.” “I am speaking facts not flattery.” “Let’s just say this is a battle that I will not only win; but will make up for my previous losses.” “You are that sure?” “Yes proof positive.” “According to my calculations if I employ an Izim crystal into this habitat it will undoubtedly cause great havoc.” “I thought that the rules forbade the using of crystals?” “Not if the Society is already at a substandard level.” “May I remind you of war article 251-325 section 57.”
“No alien culture who has not reached a global unification
of their own genus shall be exempt from any
deployment of any crystals as the user sees fit to use.”

“Yes I am familiar with that.” “However, this has not been implemented in over 400 years.” “This is true and other laws have been modified since then.” “This one I am glad to say has not.” “You seem desperate.” General Otic gives General Daymore a serious look. “I guess desperate times call for desperate measures.” General Daymore is somewhat amused by General Otic’s seriousness. “Ha.” “So I have been told.” “Okay you have garned my interest.” “What do you propose?” The two generals sit down next to a view ocular. General Otic activates a nearby panel to open it. Once it is open the view reveals the blue planet they call Urin-Stool. General Daymore speaks. “Okay so now what?” “Do we wait here to see how your (clause) pans out?” “Or do we speed this process up by activating the scenario speculator?” “Why General Daymore you sound agitated?” “No not agitated.” “I just smell a cheat masked in a clause.” “Now now let’s not be a sore loser.” “I haven’t lost anything yet.” “Ha, ha we shall soon see.”
Alicia McCalla
0 #29 Alicia McCalla 2012-04-04 14:35
Hi Abdul:

Please submit your story. I'd love to see it. :-)
0 #28 Abdul-Qaadir 2012-04-04 04:01
Nicole Sconiers
0 #27 Nicole Sconiers 2012-03-30 17:11
It was a deadly time to be 18, black and male. All across the country, these young outlaws were being killed. They yanked them from their cars and lynched them in Texas, stormed their homes and gassed them in Philadelphia and lay in wait for them outside of barber shops in Chicago and Los Angeles.

Lamar Martin was blessed with a baby face that belied his 17 years. He was short with plump cheeks and big ears, and his soft black eyes that witnessed daily carnage still bore a hopeful sheen. His friends, the two or three who remained, called him Junior even though his father’s name was Carl.

Read the rest:
R.C. Beckom
0 #26 R.C. Beckom 2012-03-29 01:44
Quoting Margaret:
A Black Teen, Alan, and a White Bigot, Arthur, arrived at the Pearly Gates.

“Why are you here?” the Gattekeeper asked Alan.

“I was guilty of wearing a hoody.”

“What’s a hoody?” asked the Gatekeeper.

“Man, where are you from?” Alan asked, showing him the hooded sweatshirt he wore.

“What a fine garment,” the Gatekeeper said. “In my day, you stayed cold and wet. Go on in.” And he waved Alan through the Pearly Gates.

“How about you?” the Gatekeeper asked Arthur.

“I died of a heart attack after shooting my assailant. The stress was too much for me,” Arthur said.

“Who attacked you?” the Gatekeeper asked.

“A Black teen. He wore a hoody, so in spite of his being unarmed, going about his lawful business, and not messing with me, I shot him dead.”

“I have a far warmer spot for you than this one, the Gatekeeper said, and he waved to two small demons lounging to the left of the gate. “Take him away.”


I don't think yours can be topped, you dead on point, I like it. but let me share this one with you anyhow,:

A blackman was walking down the road one day when he came upon a huge mega-church, he realized that it was full of whites but he wanted to worship and praise the Lord, so he thought to himself, maybe if I can climb in the chapel and hide myself I can praise the Lord.

As he got up there and began to kneel to pray he began to realize that the whole congregation was looking at him, but he kept on praying anyhow,pretty soon the pastor approaches him and said: "Excuse me sir, You will have to leave," the man looked up sadly and said "but I only want to pray!"

The Pastor said to him,"sorry, U will have to leave." And so he did.

As he began to sit down outside on the steps of the church and wept, a hand touched him on the shoulder.

As he attempted to turn around and look to see who it was, he saw that it was Jesus sayin' to him, "Don't feel bad my brother, They won't let me in there either!" peace!
R.C. Beckom
0 #25 R.C. Beckom 2012-03-29 01:05
Some people seem to believe that "We" have the brain of a donut!esteem,es teem,the word becomes esteem beginning with self,what is our as a black community major goal? do we as a people even think about even having one? People don't Plan to fail,But some do fail to plan,our children are either dying in front or around us at an alarming rate and what do we have to offer them? a dead society that will have to seek assistance outside of itself for mere existence? Alicia Keyes said it better,first she speaks of her area,then states I have one of two choices, one way leads to crimes and drugs,the other to bright lights and broadway,most of us don't see that there for us so we end up stuck out there in the streets to do battle as we struggle to become successful with no real thoughts of our future, our future is what our children coming up see, most have been taught not to think much of themselves from examples of society's schools,their family,friends & all the other cultures so they don't, problem is if you don't think anything of yourself others think nothing of you either, thus enter our young impressionalble black boy with a lot of ambition and no real outlet for it because he has be told that he has "A Place,boy"and he just happen to no what that "Place" means,so he become computable living on "The Out" and others continue to see him as out,even at times, his woman, so their opinion of him for whatever the reason,He's out forever,but he's allow to look in, the treatment become a habit, he becomes a victim within his society as if this is how it goes, now its open season on his kind, no one gon'say anything in his behalf no how., you left prayin'"Lord,Y U make me Black? someone this world wants to hold back? most of us do not realize that we are made in the image of the Father so we feel that way, growing up in condition inhumane to mankind each and everyday of your life with the man and others rubbing your face in something you don't even understand ain't easy. and now this, I just like to say in closing "If Trayvon hit this guy with his hands, all you have to do is look at his hands, there would have to be some kind of marks there. I just pray that nothing happens to this man until we the people see just what kind of justice is going to be served to ahmmmmmm, The people. U C I also am Trayvon. R.I.P. Trayvon, "We,and the Holy Father got this one for You and all the rest, as U stand in the gap>
Diop Malvi
0 #24 Diop Malvi 2012-03-28 19:30
It was getting dull inside the ride. The music must have been the same set of tunes we had heard 300 miles back. I have nothing against the Clarions. Lloyd was sitting back with me, snoring,or doing an imitation of a buzz saw. Myra sat up front, gazing out the righthand window on the passing landscape. "Anybody need to stretch or anything?" Dwayne, the driver, called back over his shoulder. It woke Lloyd up. He gave a snort, then yawned. " I'm down on the anything part, gotta piss!" Myra shook her head at her brother's comment. There's ya place right ahead,' I said. On the left side of the road was a drive-intruckst op. "It looks so quaint",Myra said so sarcasticaly. "I'd half expect it to have been on that Food Network@ show." Dwayne found a spot to park and pulled in. Just as we all got out, a family of five came out the place, the crewcut topdawg looking us up down. "I know I'm cute and all that, but you don't have to give me a blowjob," Dwayne said to him. His mate gasped, his eyes bucked, the crumbsnatchers did a combination of both, and he huffed up to speak. Dwayne gauged deep furrows across his face with his suddenly exposed claws. Myra had his mate down and had her by the throat. " Pfah! This thin blooded cow is diseased!" " More likely inbred," Lloyd said pushing the spell caught kids aside. A blast of hillbilly music came from the joint. In the door was a cap wearing heavyset good old boy. "Yum! Yum!Eat'em up! Eat 'em up!" He and the now cmpletely transformed leaopardlike Dwayne said together in unison. They rushed in,and the screams began. There were no other cars and such coming down the road. A couple of shots went off. " Oh my!" Myra went as she started slinking toward the open door. "You coming?" " You know I enjoy seeing you strut your sexy ass," I said taking off my hoodie and tossing it into the car. " Let me get these real folks out of sight." " So what if somebody sees 'em?", Myra said,stading in the nude, the mesmerised little female holding her kente cloth robe. Gods, I wanted Myra! One of the reasons I came along on this jaunt! That and it was the time of T. M's martyrdom. Some guys from the kitchen judging by their aprons and checked pants, came racing from the back door. One was an older Black male the other a younger Latino. Myra grinned showing her fangs. " Let's get'em baby!" My knees nearly started knocking! She called me baby! We were off and then on those two doomed bastards before they could start huffing. Myra had called me baby!
Alicia McCalla
+1 #23 Alicia McCalla 2012-03-27 23:14
Balogun, thanks for your short story. It rings of true prophecy. Chilling!

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