“To all the mothers and fathers out there raising black men and women. Remember being black is a privilege, not a disgrace, so remind them to stand tall, be proud, and love themselves no matter how dark or light their skin is. They are Black and they are Beautiful. – Jasmine” (@demarcusbsean)
I remember finding out I was pregnant and freaking out. Not because I was with someone who asked “what are you going to do”, not because my son’s dad did not have a place to stay, but because I felt unworthy. I felt as though I was not in a place in life to deserve the type of love that only a child could give. I wanted to be married, more established, and more successful, but I wasn’t.
Fast forward to the gender reveal…I will never forget how I felt knowing I was carrying my son. I felt so much gratitude and fear all at the same time. Still inside me I knew I would be raising my son in a world where his skin spoke the loudest of words. I knew that no matter what he wanted to do in life, I would have to raise him never fall short. I had so much anxiety about raising my black son, it was seriously ridiculous. It is still ridiculous.
The funny thing is I was well educated, I had just finished my master’s degree program and landed a job making more than my previous job even with the overtime. I remember finally calming and after my doctor officially confirmed I was pregnant, I began to feel excitement.
What saddens me the most is that black boys are only cute for so long. There is a weird window in life where they are the cutest little people in the world and then they are the most feared. Like, let me cross the street so I do not have to walk past him fear. Little black boys do not have long, around 6, 7, 8, people will begin to watch them more closely and they are not the cutest little people in the world. And don’t have a large son, who is naturally bigger because you might have until he is 5. Peanut is going to be a big boy, so 5 it is!
I am raising my son with love, I am leading my son with love. He is the sweetest, most playful little boy, and sometimes he will look me square in the face and “momma, I want you” then my heart melts. It my pleasure and duty to raise my son in a space where hugs, kisses, cuddles, and saying I love you is the norm. I want my son to feel the love, because sometimes society doesn’t give it.