North Texas college students, along with thousands of other young people around the country, have found a cause worthy of protest.

Last Sunday in some black churches, where the "crown" usually refers to the elaborate hats worn by female worshippers, men and women adorned their heads with "hoodies."

Some professional athletes have gotten into the act, uniting around something other than a strike over salary caps.

The president of the United States has said we as a nation need to "do some soul searching."

And the Rev. Al Sharpton is calling for a national dialogue on race.

All of this, along with the constant, feverish discussions in social and mainstream media, is in reaction to the shooting death last month of an unarmed 17-year-old Florida boy by a neighborhood watch captain.

Trayvon Martin's name has become as familiar to the world today as Emmett Till's was in the late 1950s and 1960s. Till was the 14-year-old Chicago youth who, while visiting relatives in Mississippi in 1955, was beaten, shot, tied to a 75-pound fan and thrown in the Tallahatchie River — all reportedly because he spoke to or whistled at a white girl.

After Till's body was discovered and brought back to Chicago, funeral directors told his mother that it would be impossible for an open casket funeral because, among other things, the killers had gouged out the boy's eyes. The mother insisted on opening the coffin so the world could see "what they did to my boy."

This is not 1955 and Trayvon is not Emmett, but the visceral response to his death is as charged as the public outcry to any lynching during the civil rights movement.

There are demands for Trayvon's shooter, 28-year-old George Zimmerman, to be arrested and charged with murder. Zimmerman insists he shot the boy in self-defense, and local police apparently felt he was protected under Florida's "stand your ground" law.

Because 911 tapes revealed Zimmerman referred to Trayvon as "black" and because he pursued the youth even after a dispatcher advised against it, many leaders and protesters accuse the watch captain of racial profiling.

"I am Trayvon," has become the rallying cry at demonstrations across the country and on Facebook and Twitter by those demanding justice for the slain young man. Now thousands are donning hoodies to show their support for the youth's family while calling for the prosecution of Zimmerman.

Added to the natural fervor of those crying out in pain and disgust has been the involvement of two of the nation's most vocal black leaders, Sharpton and the Rev. Jesse Jackson — drum majors always in search of a parade they can jump in front of.

Then there's the fringe group, the New Black Panther Party, which announced a bounty for the capture of Zimmerman. That notion is absurd on its face, almost as ridiculous as the media treating seriously any statements from this handful of illogical rabble-rousers.

The shooting has the country once again split along that great national divide: race, forcing people to choose sides even if they don't want to. Trayvon's death is very troubling. Based on what we know so far, he should not be dead.

People have a right to be sad — even angry — about what they feel has been an injustice. But what all the protesters should realize is that their outcry has been heard. They have moved the system to action.

The Sanford, Fla., City Council voted "no confidence" in its police chief, forcing him to step down temporarily while this case moves forward. A Seminole County grand jury will investigate the case and the U.S. Justice Department has announced that it will look into it as well.

The wheels of justice are in motion. Let them move deliberately and fairly toward the truth. The outcome is still likely to leave the country divided over another tragic incident.

As for that discussion on race? How many more do we need until we expect a different result from all the others?

Maybe we leave it to the newly energized young folks to talk about it. They can do it on their social media — without ever coming face-to-face.

Bob Ray Sanders can be reached at bobray@star-telegram.com.