Growing up Black is a be seen and not heard kind of existence. In my experience, to find a Black child with the authority to fully BE, in the presence of adults is the exception; not the rule. Control, rules, excellence and respectability are major components of the Black child rearing experience. Black children need to grow up with their shit together. This didn’t happen in a vacuum. It’s a direct result of slavery, Jim Crow, the Civil Rights Era and a post racial America *side eye*. The privilege of speaking about anything at anytime was snatched from us and whipped out of us on slave ships, auction blocks, in the fields and in the big house.
Saying the “wrong” thing or being at the “wrong” place at that time could get an adult or even a child, literally killed— It still can. We have too many examples. Being seen and not heard is not a simplified way to parent; it’s a safety mechanism. Part of the Black experience is simply trying to keep your children alive in a way that it isn’t true for other races. The same is true of how we are steered towards career choices. Careers that are perceived as frivolous, i.e. dancer, artist or musician are not routinely supported.
It follows that the time we get to live our best lives for our best selves is also incomplete.
I remember when Aaliyah died. I was so hurt. I met her once, but I didn’t know her. Still, I cried and lamented on a life lost way too soon. She felt like a friend. Her swag was ridiculous, we were close in age, and everyone loved her. Her death felt… close.
The one thing that made me feel better after her death was the life she led. She came from a wonderful family. She experienced great love and she accomplished so much. Regardless if you liked her singing or acting— She did it all. Aaliyah was a successful, world renowned artist. She was going for it. She was striving to live her best life. I was so proud of her for that then… even as I failed to give myself the same gift.
To be clear, social media doesn’t really make anyone hate their life. You hate your life because you hate your life. You continue to make the same choices, revisit the same places, roll around with the same individual and wonder why nothing in your life is different. I believe Einstein had words to say about that kind of behavior. He called it insanity. Einstein was correct. Imagine that. Unfortunately, you haven’t heard the wise words of the late great Einstein. So, you stay on the ferris wheel. Professing to hate every minute of it. Screaming to get off. Yet, never removing your safety belt. Never standing. Never being miserable enough to stop the revolutions.
I don’t know where people get the idea that we have nothing to do or we’d rather be doing something else. I literally cannot think of the last time I was bored at home. Also, the idea that SAHM’s have “settled” or given up on their dreams. Look into my eyes: We are not being held against our will. I don’t need to qualify my life to you. Worry about your deferred dreams. #JudgeYourOwnSelf
As I placed my hand on the doorknob to leave; he pounced around the corner out of nowhere. I immediately asked about the girls and the housekeeper. The girls were gone and he had given the housekeeper the day off. His wife, a doctor, was at the hospital. I felt uncomfortable. I didn’t know why.
