Black Boy Joy
Receiving news of another Black person’s death because of vigilante justice in America was hard for me because my children had birthdays in our midst. Typically, parents survey their minds of all the benchmarks hit by our children, all the memories made with triumph, vigor, and all those tender moments in between.
Specifically, I thought of how proud I was the moment I started realizing that my oldest is proud of being a Black boy. For those of you who read and aren’t Black, you may not know or understand, but there is a plethora of books that support positive self-images of African Americans written by many Black authors. One of my children’s God Parents gave them a book for Christmas named, The Joys of Being a Little Black Boy: written by Valerie Reynolds and illustrated by Chris Turner.
Beautifully illustrated and written, they requested for me to read it to them every night for months. Of course, I obliged them. I find myself changing my voice when I read to them so that they understand that reading can be both exciting and fun. They loved it. The evening was always followed by positive affirmations spoken over their lives, prayers, plenty of hugs and kisses. Then off to bed they went. Thinking on it now, it still warms my heart when I think of the morning, I received a phone call from their father…
“Yea G, I just want to let you know, your son is standing at the top of the Jungle Gym screaming at the top of his lungs that he is a smart Black boy. Eyes closed; head high.”
Instant, I burst into laughter. Apparently, my lover arrived at the school early enough for my darling terrorist to play on the playground for a little while and his behavior appeared to come out of nowhere. I knew all the while that it was not out of nowhere. It was from his heart.
With knowledge of how the world will view our children, many mothers like myself place a great deal of our energy preparing our sons with self-love and positive self – images so they will have the confidence to combat negative thinking about who they are culturally later in life. In addition, we are aware of what is expected to compete in a capitalist world. Armed with this information we throw our sons into Art, STEM, Football, Baseball, Basketball, and Band camps to enrich their lives. Not to mention the busier they are the less likely they will be involved with criminal elements. Some women tour the country and the world. Giving their sons the ultimate competitive edge of being worldly and influenced by multiculturalism. We keep their minds filled with positive information and teach them constantly to show others respect, behave with humility, and take responsibility for their actions. The stress that comes with teaching our children to make good decisions cannot truly be placed into words.
However, time and time again we are met with the grimacing reality that no matter what we do, no matter the correct paths we pave, no matter the activity our sons engaged in, there will be an element out there that will not allow for them to have Black Boy Joy due to a basic difference of skin pigmentation. Somberly, I express that there aren’t enough ways a dedicated Black mother like myself can prepare for that.
