As I sat today with tears in my eyes, I called my mother. She told me to write down what I was feeling. So I am going to step out and put my feelings on this post. I don't know how long I will leave it here; but here it is:
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Today I awoke in tears. This is my routine for the last couple of days. I do this daily, more frequent
than I would like. I cry like I did when I was 11 years old. There is anger, there is fear, there is pain,
and there is confusion that most people would not understand unless they have walked in my shoes.
I experienced an incident as a child that has shaped my life. I saw a white man hold a gun to my
father’s head and threaten to kill him because he was a black man that had gone to college. Despite
that experience, my parents taught me to forgive. They taught me that this was ONE person that did
this to me, and that the only person that I can hold accountable for that experience is THAT person!
They taught me to recognize that there are some people that I make uncomfortable just because of my
existence. They taught me that I am loved and admired because I am who I am, and to not allow
anyone to take that from me. But most importantly they taught me to LOVE everyone, those that are
like me and those that are different.
Because of this over the last 20 years I have been able to share my stories of what happened to me. I
have traveled to schools, colleges, churches, and companies and talked about the experiences of my
childhood and how they shaped who I am. I have talked to the old and the young, to black and non-
black, to professionals and non-professionals. Each time I shared my story, I would become that little
11-year-old girl again and feel her anger, her fear, her hurt, and her pain. I would remember the fact
that I slept on the floor outside my parents’ bedroom until I was almost 15 years old, with the mindset
that I could protect my daddy if he came back.
I share my story with others because, it has been my attempt at making the world a better place for my children, my grandchildren and for your children and your grandchildren, In the hopes that my children would NOT have the same experience as me. Myself and my husband have tried to raise them to become exemplary men and women! I have had the “talk” with them: about what they could and could not do, how to stay safe, when to go and when to come. And when they asked “why”, I had to tell them that it was because of who they are. As a parent that is a difficult thing to do, as your child looks at you because he/she doesn’t understand; but you know that one day when they become adults, they will understand it. That hurts a mother’s heart!
So today I sit and cry for my children (born to me and not born to me). I cry for those that witnessed
(in person and via the video) the murder of Mr. Floyd: I know it will shape everything that they do and how they feel for the remainder of their lives. I cry for those that have died before (Ahmaud, Eric Gardner, etc) and pray that no others will die needlessly, and no other mother will have to feel their mother’s pain. I cry because I know that there is nothing that I can do to protect my children from the pain that I felt as a child. I cry because no matter what I teach them they will never be totally safe unless the mindsets and behavior of those around them change!
As one mother’s plea to all the other mothers out there; help me give my children a chance to survive
and thrive. When my children thrive, your children thrive! Sit and listen to my children. Acknowledge their pain, their hurt, their anger, and their fear! Teach your children the true history of my children in this country, in all its beauty and all its ugliness.
People say that the children are the future; but we must recognize that it is the mothers and the
fathers that start the change that will become the future.
So to the mother’s out there, lets direct that change so that our children can become the future that is needed in this country and the world!
This is one mother’s request to all the other mothers out there.
