Days after the George Zimmerman acquittal, all across the country people are having "the conversation about race" in America. We are inundated with blogs, op-eds, tweets, memes, and status updates that mirror both sides of the coin: either in outrage for Trayvon Martin, or elation at the not guilty verdict … No matter what stance people are taking, undeniably people are talking.

For Americans, race seems to be the proverbial elephant in the room which most prefer not to recognize. Statements like "I don't see color" are waved about like the stars and stripes – as if actually acknowledging the skin tone of a person should mean you get automatically signed up for a "Paula Deen's Guide to Tolerance" seminar.

Friday afternoon, President Obama decided to elaborate on his brief remarks following the trial. He spent approximately 17 minutes addressing the nation, and the world, for that matter. First, he reminded the assembled reporters of his initial statement, almost 17 months earlier:

When Trayvon Martin was first shot, I said that this could have been my son. Another way of saying that is Trayvon Martin could have been me, 35 years ago.

President Obama gave us a first-hand commentary on his life as a black male in America before he became senator in Illinois: watching people lock their doors, white women clutch their purses in elevators, and being tailed by store detectives around department stores.

President Obama finally said some things in his brief address that black America has patiently waited for a long time to hear from a president in the United States. First, he provided a historical context:

The African-American community is looking through a set of experiences and a history that doesn't go away.

This history he refers to is defined in some circles as Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome (PTSS), a syndrome identified by Dr Joy DeGruy as a set of behaviors, beliefs and actions associated with the trauma of enslavement experienced by generations of African Americans, akin to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). President Obama was alluding in part to this when he went on to say:

We understand that some of the violence that takes place in poor black neighborhoods around the country is born out of a very violent past in this country, and that the poverty and dysfunction that we see in those communities can be traced to a very difficult history.

This trial, and trials like it through America's tumultuous history, do indeed inform the way not just black Americans, but all Americans, navigate the conversation about the next steps we need to take towards an equitable society. Young men of color, especially, are an endangered species. And the parents of these young men are afraid for their children's lives. Some are even fearful of bringing a black son into this world.

On an article titled "I'm Afraid to Raise a Little Black Boy", one mother commented:

My biracial son is 15. I made him cut his hair over the weekend to look less black. This fear you speak of is making me crazy. My own child didn't understand why I insisted on him keeping his hair short now.

The fear for – and, unfortunately, of – our sons of color is paramount. It allows no room for black boys to be kids – to wear hoodies when it rains, to wear jeans that fall in line with the current fashion trends; mothers fear their growth spurts, facial hair, and voice changes. Earlier this week, during an interview, Shaquille O'Neal told the story of how he was 6'10" at the age of 13. One can only imagine the stress his mother had to endure sending her child everyday into a world that was not safe for a kid who would likely be perceived as a threat.

President Obama shed some light on the heart of the confusion about the Zimmerman acquittal, the "stand your ground" law, and the disparity in who gets convicted for what crimes and why:

I just ask people to consider if Trayvon Martin was of age and armed, could he have stood his ground on that sidewalk? And do we actually think that he would have been justified in shooting Mr Zimmerman, who had followed him in a car, because he felt threatened? And if the answer to that question is at least ambiguous, it seems to me that we might want to examine those kinds of laws.

So, the ever-pressing question is: how do we move forward?

President Obama offered some suggestions that included flexing executive muscles by taking a look at the state and local legislation on racial profiling, decreasing the mistrust of law enforcement in black and brown communities. He also asked us to remember that things are getting better – even if it is at a snail's pace.

Each successive generation seems to be making progress in changing attitudes when it comes to race. It doesn't mean that we're in a post racial society. It doesn't mean that racism is eliminated.

It is reassuring to know that the person who holds the highest seat in American government can say that with assurance, and confident in the potential to make systemic change.

This is not a task for black people alone. We have to work collectively towards the "more perfect union" named by the president. When we as a country finally step up and accept ownership for the brutal history that informs our present condition, and which will undoubtedly shape our future, only then can we begin the true work of healing.

Healing includes looking your fear in the face, standing up, instead of standing by. The most important thing America can do is to refuse to be silent in the face of adversity. As the poet and civil rights activist Audre Lorde once said: