Nella Martin-Zimmerman

Photo Courtesy: Ralph E. Stone 

If Nella Larsen were alive today, she would have worn a hoodie in support of Trayvon Martin, but she would have also sent money to George Zimmerman's defense fund.


Her story would go as follows:


After hearing about the Million Hoodie March on BBC, she turned off the television and went to her closet. She pulled down a box tucked away in a corner behind a layer of winter scarves and placed the box on the blue wing back recliner in her bedroom. She lifted the lid and there it was, under the gray cashmere sweater her cousin handed down to her last winter. 


She remembered purchasing the white hoodie two summers ago when she went on an excursion to Maine. The evenings were chilly, and she often  strolled down the coast at dusk to breathe in the ocean air. She liked the hoodie because the fleece was warm and she could protect her loose flowing hair from the salty breeze. She never forgot being "escorted" back to her guest house by the marine coast patrol one evening when she stopped to sit on a rock by the bay.


"You need to keep moving, lady," said a hefty, red-faced officer. 


She remembered his embarrassment when he discovered she was a guest at one of the private the Longfellow manors and his bumbling, muffled explanation of "drifters vandalizing the shoreline."


She pulled the hoodie out of the box and stood in front of her vanity. As she slipped her arms into the sleeves and casually tossed the hood over her head, she looked at her reflection. She was Trayvon. She studied the sorrow in her face and eyes and reflected on the many years of "misunderstandings" and blatant accusations.


"I'm not a plagiarizer," she whispered as a tear strolled down her cheek.


She carefully took off the hoodie, gently folded it and placed it back in the box on the chair. She turned to her desk and pulled out her credit card as she googled "George Zimmerman."