- The world I once knew was different to me.
- People crossed the streets - afraid of my voice.
- People listen up and hear me now.
I am a black mother raising children in America. All my accomplishment are useless, if I cannot protect the liberty and life of my children. It is a thought every black mother awakes with daily. As a lawyer, I understand my rights. As an educator and writer, I empower others to know theirs. As a woman, I demand honesty and transparency. We are strategic guides willing to walk into the darkest to shed light on the forgotten.
This article is a story poetic story reminding my son [and yours] the his life matters. Our black sons need these lessons to be strong, swift, and constant.
“My life matters”
Once upon a time I mattered to all
I was born knowing that I mattered. I called to my mother and she answered me. I cried to my father and he tended to me. I scratched my knee and my grandmother mended me. I raised my hand in class and my teacher called on me. My voice was heard again and again by all I knew. They listened. They paused. They thought. They heard me. They learned from what I had to say. My voice mattered. My joy mattered. My humanity mattered.
Then something went wrong
It was when I grew that I knew something was wrong. It was when I grew that I knew, I did not always belong. You see, my voice grew deeper, my legs grew longer, and my arms grew stronger. All these things you could see. I knew something was wrong. It was the way they started looking at me. It was like a light went on and they saw me for me. They feared my growing body, strong arms, and longer leg – all that was me. It didn’t matter that I was walking the same streets and passing the same folks, I just knew something was wrong. The world I once knew was different to me.
They became afraid of me
People crossed the streets – afraid of my voice. People crossed the street – fearing my approach. I felt like a roach. Each and every day, their ice cold steers and piercing words reminded me that I just didn’t belong. People crossed the street to avoid a boy that was growing into a man. You see – the deep voice, long legs and strong arms are wrapped in black skin. And that in America is the ultimate sin.
My life matters
People listen up and hear me now. I am a person, a son, a man, a brother, a grandchild, and a human being. I am important to someone, but more than anything, I am important to this world. It is here I belong. I value myself because I am me. I love my blackness and every inch of who are am and will be. I want to live. I seek to grow. I am here to know. But all that is important today, is that I know and you know, my life matters.