Mothers of Black Boys
My beautiful baby boy, the sweetest, funniest, nurturing, loving, and my goodness the smartest. If you asked me what keeps me up all night, it’s my sweet boy growing up. The thought alone brings a knot to my throat and a pit deep down in my stomach, knowing that one-day his teenage years are going to greet me at the front door, ready for confrontation. My body aches just fathoming that moment.
Mothers’ of beautiful black boys, what are your prayers for protection?
Because, sometimes I feel like my prayers are not enough to convince the world that my son’s life matter. I know without him, I have no world at all. I’ve heard mothers whose sons have been murdered, painfully crying and pleading during injustices and it hurts my ears. I find myself selfishly saying “God, I wouldn’t know what to do if that was me”. When in reality the odds are against us and are even double stacked. I live in an urban city that is not shy about violence. Where as a child, I witnessed my dad being pulled over multiple times because of the car he drove. Most times he was let go, but one time in particular he was handcuffed and pushed against the windshield of our car. I remember this like it was yesterday, feeling helpless and worthless as I sat crying and pleading for officers to let him go. I heard my dad from the windshield “Tanjie, baby, stop crying, I’m okay”. He was released, and I’d like to think it was my pleading that helped. Little did I know, I was lucky that day to be able to go home with my dad. Now, I realize that it was a pure blessing. I often find myself wondering how many blessings do I get? Hoping that I haven’t selflessly exhausted all my blessings. Will I have any more blessings to spare to see my son grow old?
There is violence in my community, by the hands of my brothers, and I would be lying to say that sometimes it doesn’t scare me. People have left my community because they believe things would be better, safer, and easier in other places. And there is violence in these better, safer, and easier places by the hand of people with power and authority. I would be lying if I say that doesn’t scare me.
How can my baby boy, the funniest, sweetest, smartest, and most loving child turn into the biggest threat in America?
Mothers’ of beautiful black boys, what are your prayers for protection?