Every February comes along and it brings up mixed emotions about what being black in America means to me. I always seem to end up with defining that by the these three words: treatment, value, and dignity. I am plagued with the question: Do you think the way black people are being treated has improved? Well, as a mom of six black males in America I would say; I still have the same fear my ancestors had about their sons returning home safely, I still have the same emptiness in my stomach when my son gets stopped by the police. I still have the same bruised knees as my ancestors did from praying all night and I still get the same stares and questions about my ability to mother and work my sons like my ancestors did.
So what has changed?? I would have to say my right to put up with it. My voice to speak up about it. My ally’s who stand up for me and most of all my neighbors who don’t look like me.
Although some things haven’t changed their are things that have and on this day, in this year I think I will go with grace knowing that I have four black sons in college doing greats things paving their way and when I look to my left and my right I start to see multiple colors of people who got my back.
We must take the good with bad and remember yo shine a little more light in the good as we all work together to create change.