Tag Archives: backseat

One of my favorite, thought-provoking podcasts is Another Round and one of the episodes a few weeks ago was about disconnecting from all of the depressing and triggering news about Black boys and girls getting killed by police. It’s an important lesson to remember: sometimes we need to remove ourselves from the news. Because every day it seems like we get a new video of a child being killed by a cop – or an announcement of that cop’s exoneration. It’s tiring. It’s stressful. It’s…debilitating. In order to combat this war on our psyches, we need to get away from social media and the news so we can get some sanity. On Another Round , Tracy and Heben discussed what they do to disconnect – going to the movies or the park or an art show or something. It really made me think about what I do to disconnect, because I’d never really thought about my need to get away or how I get overwhelmed by the news of the war on Black lives. I took some time and tried to find a pattern of behavior for when I get overwhelmed by dead black boys and girls. And I realized how I’ve been coping. I get away from my kids. That realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I just can’t look at my son in the face when I’m overwhelmed by the constant reminder that there’s a gun pointed at his head at any given moment. Because sometimes I feel less like I’m raising a boy to become a man and more like I’m bringing him closer to an inevitable moment when he’s murdered by a cop. The feeling leaves me with the thought that parenting is futile. That my son is less my son and more cattle being lead to an inevitable slaughter. I feel guilty for raising a child to believe in hope in a country that wants to take it away. This is how fear and American violence against Black lives affects my mind. This is how depressing it gets sometimes. You know that feeling in your stomach when your kids do something slightly dangerous? You know, try to get as high on a swing as possible or climb something a bit higher than before? And you want to grab them and make sure they don’t fall even when the danger isn’t necessarily present. And while your first instinct is to grab them so they are safe, you know that it’s best for you to let them challenge themselves and be brave. So you just watch and get that feeling in the pit of your stomach; that nervous knot that won’t go away while fighting the urge to just hold your kid forever. That’s how I feel every morning my son wakes up and goes into the world as a Black boy in America. When I don’t disconnect, I feel police violence waiting on every corner. I have a recurring fear where I get pulled over by a cop while my toddler is sleeping in the backseat and he’s awakened by a cop and starts screaming, startling a cop who fires shots into the backseat of my car. Think this is outrageous? Ask Aiyana Jones’ family if I’m not justified. So how do I deal with the realization that I feel the need to get away from parenting when I’m overwhelmed by the omnipresence of police violence against Blackness? I defy my fear. I celebrate my children and my role as a parent. I’ve come to realize that raising a Black child and guiding them to adulthood is an act of radical defiance. The sole objective of police violence against Blackness is erasure. It’s an attempt to show that Black lives don’t matter. So I fight back by making sure my kids’ lives matter – and making sure they know their lives at least matter to me. Sure, sometimes I need to disconnect from my kids – as does any other parent. But I refuse to let fear be the reason I get away. I owe my kids more than being a parent afraid of the future – afraid of the present threats on my their lives. Every day they wake up, go to school and simply live, they’re standing in defiance of police brutality and in celebration of their Blackness. Every day I’m a parent and love my children, I act in defiance of what a trigger happy cop wants from me. I will disconnect, only to come back stronger, better and with more love to give my children. I refuse to be a scared parent. I want to give my children hope even when I feel like there is none.

Read this article:
When Police Brutality Makes You Scared To Be A Parent