Beloved Wild

I bought this button about 20 years ago, at the International African Arts Festival when it was still at Boys & Girls High. At the time I bought it out of adolescent high minded idealism about Black nationalism, propelled into overdrive by my time at a PWI for middle and high school in NYC.

That shit hit different as a parent. to a black boy child. in the middle of a global pandemic. In the belly of the beast of Amerikkka. Teaching my son takes on a whole new meaning. Out of all the lessons to teach the most important is that I love him. To the bone. Or the white meat as my mama used to threaten halfway jokingly to beat me til. I don’t want to love my child out of fear. I will love him out of wholeness, of freedom, of pride, knowing the expansiveness of our inheritance on this earth is far far beyond the deception of this culture and this time.

This afternoon, after a two week long phase of demanding to see the doctor after every bump and bruise, demanding to call an ambulance, he called me Doctor Mommy (don’t tell me this pandemic isn’t affecting our little ones. They know what’s up.) I had gone into damn near a panic every time he insisted on seeing a doctor, tried to distract him, verbally assuring him that he was fine and he didn’t need a doctor. Big tears. Ginormous tantrum. But today, Doctor Mommy. I checked his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. I listened to his heart and his tummy. I asked him if he was in any pain. We took slow deep breaths together. I showered him with kisses. Doctor Mommy.

Teaching your own melanated children isn’t just about literacy and STEM curriculum. Teaching is about relationship. It’s about trust. It’s absolutely about authority and discipline. But those are fluid roles. Often the student is the teacher. These past two weeks have been a challenge to level up, open up. To show him everything is ok, not just tell him. To explain to him how I know everything is ok. Being the master of my mind so my heart can do the work. Yes, educate your own Black children. But to be successful you’ve got to love them wholly first. Then the real learning, for all of you, parent and child(ren) begins.