I used to hate when my mom would make me check-in all the time, or always sternly tell me to be safe and careful, as if I didn’t know how to take care of myself. Especially when I moved to New York City. In my head, I am always like “Mom, Im grown, I get it!” or “Yeah, I’m not dumb.” We always have the annoyance as kids and teens with rules and nagging.
It has not been until recently, with the murder of a black man simply jogging, the slain of a black woman in her own home, and the weekly murders of black people back to back…to back, that I have realized the pain and fear of a black parent, of my mother. She is not afraid that she raised a daughter and a son that don’t know how to take care of themselves, because we were taught well despite certain circumstances. She’s afraid of the world around us. And, she should be.
So I wrote this poem for my mother, and moms [parents] like her.
Positivity, growth, and all the things,