I am mother. This is now the core of my identity. Everything else I am is secondary. I remember, a decade and a half ago, in a discussion around identity politics, one person was very adamant that she was a physicist before she was a woman. I didn't understand at the time how an acquired role could become more essential than one she had worn since childhood. I understand now.
Before I was a mother, I was more involved in my communities. Volunteering was an important part of my life, supporting or belonging to various groups was a priority. Since I've had a child, particular one who is rather…active, I haven't been volunteering or investing my time in the groups who are doing good work in the community. I feel the pendulum about to swing back.
I am raising male child. As much as I don't want sex/gender to matter, as much as I joked about only revealing Booba's sex to those who changed diapers, as much as I find it ODD that so much emphasis and expectation are placed on the genitalia a person a person has, I am very aware that my child is a Black male in this society. Before I was a mother, the murder of Trayvon Martin may have made sparked righteous indignation. As the parent of a spirited, amazing, beautiful Black manchild, I still felt the injustice pulling at my bones, but the sense of loss, of mourning, of powerlessness felt so much more intense. As a mother, I feel a heightened sense of responsibility for my brothers and their safety as they navigate a society that views them as a threat.
Every time a police officer acknowledges my two year old, I feel the most striking sense of cognitive dissonance. When they wave and smile as I tow him in the bike trailer, when they offer him stickers, I want to ask--to demand--that that remember this when he is 16. That the same spirit whose beauty they appreciated then, now walks in a bigger body. When they're deciding to investigate what he and his friends are doing, I want it remembered that our young men *are* part of the community that the police are charged with protecting.
As I reflect upon the principle of ujima during this Kwanzaa, I am very aware that my brothers' problems are my sisters' problems are my problems and I commit myself to joint work to solve them.
Before I was a mother, I was more involved in my communities. Volunteering was an important part of my life, supporting or belonging to various groups was a priority. Since I've had a child, particular one who is rather…active, I haven't been volunteering or investing my time in the groups who are doing good work in the community. I feel the pendulum about to swing back.
I am raising male child. As much as I don't want sex/gender to matter, as much as I joked about only revealing Booba's sex to those who changed diapers, as much as I find it ODD that so much emphasis and expectation are placed on the genitalia a person a person has, I am very aware that my child is a Black male in this society. Before I was a mother, the murder of Trayvon Martin may have made sparked righteous indignation. As the parent of a spirited, amazing, beautiful Black manchild, I still felt the injustice pulling at my bones, but the sense of loss, of mourning, of powerlessness felt so much more intense. As a mother, I feel a heightened sense of responsibility for my brothers and their safety as they navigate a society that views them as a threat.
Every time a police officer acknowledges my two year old, I feel the most striking sense of cognitive dissonance. When they wave and smile as I tow him in the bike trailer, when they offer him stickers, I want to ask--to demand--that that remember this when he is 16. That the same spirit whose beauty they appreciated then, now walks in a bigger body. When they're deciding to investigate what he and his friends are doing, I want it remembered that our young men *are* part of the community that the police are charged with protecting.
As I reflect upon the principle of ujima during this Kwanzaa, I am very aware that my brothers' problems are my sisters' problems are my problems and I commit myself to joint work to solve them.
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