Daunte Wright Was Only 20, My Son Is 20 Too

What type of society kills its children?

My son turned 20 this year. And sometimes, when I look at him, I realize how much of a child he still is in the body of a man. And sometimes when he grins, despite his beard and deep voice, I can still see in his face, my small baby boy. I think that for me, he will always be my baby — but I think that that is the case for most mothers.

At 20, he still has all of his life ahead of him. Sometimes he asks for my advice – determined as he is to make the right choices. As a parent, I guide him, I share my own experiences, but I try as best possible to not influence his decisions. I encourage him to be a free thinker, to speak up, to fight against injustice, and to be independent.

He is intelligent, tall, and handsome and holds so much potential. I pray that I will be able to live long enough to see him settle into a life of his own. I wonder what profession he will choose. Will he decide to live here in Switzerland or will he move away? Will he marry? Will I have grandchildren? I think about all these things with a certain degree of anticipation and excitement. Sometimes I lay awake at night and I wonder what life holds in store for him.

I think back to the first minute I met him. It was a cold sunny February day in 2001. I stared at him in awe, mesmerized by the tiny miracle I had created that lay sleeping peacefully in my arms. I remember the first time he said «Mama», the first time he walked – it was April 27, 2002, a mother never forgets these things. I remember his first tooth, his first day in kindergarten, the first time he played the piano, when he passed his driver's license, and when he passed his International Baccalaureate exam. He has always been a source of pride and joy.

When I look at him today, I realize that we are at a crossroads. He was in his first year of university when Covid 19 hit and he had to return home. It’s as if the universe gave me a little bit of extra time with him. I know that he won’t be home forever, he will soon be on his way back to school and to his future. I will let go because that is what mothers do. We have to cut the umbilical cord both physically and mentally with our children. But, it is never easy. It’s like having to say goodbye to a piece of oneself.

And then this week I heard about Daunte Wright. A young brown boy – just 20 years old — who was murdered by the police. I felt a pang of pain in my heart. I thought of his parents, and especially his mother. She was pregnant at the same time I was, and at around the same time her son slept through the night, mine did too. At the same time my son walked, Daunte did too. And around the time he said his first words, my son did too.

Daunte’s mother and I have been living our lives in parallel – on two separate continents — but what unites us, was that our two brown sons were the same age. And now, through the most terrifying of circumstances, she has lost her son. She has been inhumanely, unfairly and nonsensically deprived of a future with the life she carried in her womb and lovingly nurtured from his very first breath.

What type of society allows this to happen? What type of society kills an innocent young man that had all of his life ahead of him? What type of monster doesn’t see that she is holding a gun instead of a taser, that she is cold-bloodedly killing instead of using a taser on a child — and why would you ever want to use a taser on a child in the first place? Why? What type of person can do something so despicable. I am devastated at the abhorrent injustice of it all.

How many more Daunte Wrights, George Floyds, Ahmaud Arberys, Breonna Taylors, how many more? I ask you, how many more? How long will this blatant genocide on black lives continue? How long before we put an end to this insanity, this cruel and despicable inhumanity?

No matter what I do, so many more questions flood my mind: What type of society kills a mother’s children, what type of society kills the fruit of a black mother’s womb in all impunity, for centuries and centuries, and finds all types of lies and unbelievable excuses to get away with it?

Every mother, black, brown, or white, has the right to see her child grow and become an adult. Every mother has the right to see her children outlive her. Every mother should be able to rely on her children to come by to see her in her old age? Every mother should be entitled to see their kids live and breathe, this should not be stolen away, it is sacred. I am disgusted and I am terrified. I can’t even imagine what Daunte’s mother is going through. It must be total shock followed by untenable suffering, it must be total hell.

We need to re-double our resolve. We cannot give up the struggle, we cannot give up the fight against racism and white supremacy. We have to make the streets safe for black people wherever they may be. We need to make Black Lives Matter.

Black and brown people are human beings, we are not animals to be shot and slaughtered. As a black mother, I am begging white people to not kill my children. Please let them live like you want your own children to live. Do not take away a life that I created. How would you feel if I did that to you?

The killing needs to stop, it needs to end now. If we can place a man on the moon, do open heart surgery or make self-driving cars, we can enact policies to make the killing that has been going on for centuries stop! We cannot call ourselves humans beings if we let this continue!

Rest In Peace Daunte Wright — May flights of angels guide thine rest.