What Is Like To Raise An African-American Male?

For everyone holding a baby in their arms, looking over their children as they sleep – Do you know what it is like raising a young African American male?  Today our hearts still ache, we still cry, we still worry and we still pray every time one our sons walk out of that door!  It is bad enough that we are living in a society where we are constantly worried about our children’s safety due to the constant nonsense violence that it taking some many our young people’s lives no matter their color. But to pour salt into that wound, we who are parenting young black sons still have additional burdens.

As those who know me will tell you, I am not bound by color but I can’t deny the fact there in a difference in some of my fears and how I need to parent when compared to my other friends and acquaintances who are not raising African American boys. We all teach our sons that they need to be respectful to adults, that they need to respectful to those in authority, that as young persons it is our jobs, as the adults, to defend their rights when they have been violated by an adult. I am always telling my kids when they feel they have been wronged or mistreated by a teacher, etc….let me handle. That is why I am the parent. We also all know how teenagers are, especially boys. They are growing into their own manhood.

By God’s order males are natural leaders, presiders of their households, providers, protectors of their households. As they going through their process during their teenage years they are preparing themselves for this so they are feisty, they do need feel the need to defend themselves, “stand their ground.” Who is to say this is not what happened with Trayvon Martin?  I would venture to say that he is the one who was defending himself. Would you not be weary of someone following you around? But getting back to my point – as I stated all young boys go through this to prepare them for manhood. However, a male of another race may feel so inclined to defend his rights to a police officer, a teacher, etc. while our sons have to think twice about what they say and do even when they are in the right. It is yet another form of emasculation!  What does it do to a man’s pride, let alone a young boy’s pride, when he has to lay down his manhood to show his innocence?

I have a young dark skinned teenage boy with a little swagger, a strong sense of himself. Unfortunately he has a few of his mother’s flaws – a little mouthy, some edge on him and her temper. However, for him as a black male that can cause some serious issues. I can’t keep him locked up in the house and he is already tired of my constant preaching. But, I can’t tell you the worry that is in me every time he walks out that door alone and with a group of his friends. Not just because of the world we live in but because of profiling, people’s perceptions. I not only have to keep him out of unsafe neighborhoods but do I now have to worry about him walking the streets of better neighborhoods because some random citizen may think he’s trouble?

I know for a fact that he was one of those teenagers that can be seen as hoodlum because it has happened before. In fact, one of his teachers told a security guard that he scared her. Are you f’ing kidding me!!!! The same thing happened to his father in college. His dad got into it with a professor and she claimed that a dark skinned male was peaking in her window that night and it looked like him.  So if my son had been in that situation what should he have done? Completely devalue himself – “Uh…yes sir….I can take my hoodie off…uh yes sir…I just went to get my sister some skittles from the store…uh yes sir I will get myself out of your neighborhood as soon as possible.”  If I offend you I am sorry but this is my blog, this is how I am feeling and I need to vent!!!! We keep talking about how we have progressed as a society, blah, blah, blah.  Give me a f’ing break!  I am sick to my stomach and tired of all  this BS.  

Bernice King sums it up: “Today is a defining moment for the status of my father's dream." 

At the end of the day I pray to God for wisdom and guidance but I can no longer sit still. 

It Continues....

It has been over a year since I last wrote something. I have decided to pick it back up not only for my love of writing, but documenting this next leg of our journey as Eboni, Dakarai and Jazmyn become young adults. They are now 14, 13 and 12.  Eboni is more than half-way through her freshman year of high school and I am once again realizing how quickly time is passing by.  Many of you know that I am not this overwhelmingly sentimental person. In fact I have down-sized our house in preparation for them all going away to college. But I have to admit, as much as I loved the baby years, I am really looking for to these next few years as they continue to blossom. If you know their father and I, you can imagine that yes, each one is strong willed, stubborn and opinionated. Yet, each has a heart with their own special causes they believe in. While the sibling bickering drives me up a freakin’ wall, there is nothing like the laughter, the pranks, the jokes, the debates, time together.

I work at a high school and I know that God placed me here for a reason. Not only to do the work I do, but to be near and share this experience with my kids. Initially if it were left up to them, I don’t think any of them would have chosen to go to high school where their mother works. However, Eboni has proven that it is not such a bad deal. I remember going down the hallway and someone saying “mommie” repeatedly…Oh wow…she’s talking to me!  She likes the school and enjoys her perks. She gets to leave her crap in my office, miss homeroom without being penalized (those who know me understand this is my fault) as well as coming to get money although I have forgotten to give her lunch money a couple of times and left the building.

There are days that I wonder what self-destructive punishment drug I continue to take as I work full-time, am pursuing my doctorate and try to make sure that I am present for almost every extra-curricular activity. This was the first year that all 3 played a sport with at least 2 playing at the same time. This past winter there were at least 3 basketball games a week. The responsibility was divided between myself, their dad and his mother. There are so many days where I feel I can’t catch my breath but I don’t know that I would change it.

In many ways blogging will be good therapy for me. It will be good history tracker but more importantly it will be a journaling memoir. At the beginning of the school year Eboni asked me to write a letter that would be given to her to read her senior year.  I started it but I am not sealing it. It will be an ongoing letter to her as I talk about the journey of being her mom over the next 4 years. I plan to do this for the other 2 also.  It starts: Eboni as I sit her writing this to you I can’t believe that wide-eyed baby I held in my arms for the first time 14 years ago is now a high school student. What a beautiful young lady you are both inside and out. Sometimes I am in awe of how much God loved me to have entrusted 3 of his angels to me to steward. I love the way your smile lights up your face (you get that from me btw…lol) and how you are so eager to learn things. Plus you are so much more timely and organized than your mother. Anway…from day one there are so many hopes and dreams that a parent has for his/her children. While I do have those, it is not about living my dreams for you. As you continue to grow into a young adult, it’s about watching you dream and guiding you to full those dreams…