Finally, My Son Is Starting to Be Aware of His Blackness

You can raise your kids, but only to a point.

Like me, my son grew up in a white space. Like me, his exposure to a diverse environment was virtually non-existent. Unlike me, he grew up in a zeitgeist of cataclysmic social change. Should I feel better about this? Perhaps, but as a young Black male in America, he continues to deal with the same ugliness of racism I have experienced, and still do.

When you are a parent you wait for that point in your child’s life when all the planets align creating in them a fully formed (or close to it) sense of self. This cannot come soon enough especially if you are a parent to a Black child. For me, this moment happened recently.

His exposure to the reality of his surroundings and, more importantly, how a young Black man, is treated within a system of white supremacy has fed his continuing education on the racial injustice he faces on leaving the nest.

Trial by fire

This past June he graduated from college and quickly landed his first professional gig (I wish I had had that luck). After years of fatherly advice and providing prep for what to expect in a world where his protective bubble would cease to exist, he naively, and stubbornly, refused to relinquish the role of “I know everything” or “I am invincible.” Even as a young adult, his immature, distorted view of the world is shocking to me.

As of late our interactions and conversations leave me shaking my head, hoping for some epiphany to impact his better sense. Admittedly, for a time, it seemed hopeless.

“You don’t know pops,” I would hear him say with regularity. “Things aren’t the same as they were when you were my age.” Sound familiar? And yes, he’s right. Things were not the same. They are much worse today. 30 years ago the social climate wasn’t dense with incidences of police killing innocent Black men (not in the numbers they are now). The government, though flawed, wasn’t overtly trying to turn back the clock with policies and restrictions across the board directed at marginalized communities. Hate crimes, the latest fad, were not at an all-time high as they are today.

For the most part, the general pulse of society was somewhat stable.

I never spared my son from discussions on how many in the white community treat Black people or how we live in a country that has historically oppressed us. Though his world up until now has been largely trauma-free, his recent foray into professional life has opened his eyes to the perverse reality of how an unjust society (and workplace) can wreak havoc on a young mind just starting out.

In the short two months since starting his new job, his outlook on, well, basically everything has dramatically shifted from “I know everything” to “Holy shit, this is trash,” and “I can’t believe people treat others this way.”

Conversations regarding his workplace have increased tenfold since his first day, leaving me increasingly concerned about his being exposed to a toxic environment. After a day of revelations, we typically chat about yet another instance of suspect behavior by his co-workers; in particular, his white co-workers.

In a bro-culture where toxicity runs free, he experiences everything from frequent microaggressions to witnessing misogyny, which has propelled him to step up, use his voice, and challenge the status quo, even at the potential cost of his employment.

Taking action has become his raison d’être.

Better late than never

Though I had to deal with my fair share of racism growing up in a white space, what today’s Black youth must confront in many ways, is light years beyond the garden-variety ostracism that formed my childhood.

For many Black youths, being exposed to the underbelly of white supremacy will be absolute in life. My son’s experiences were no different. He has faced being “othered” while growing up; called the n-word on numerous occasions, harassed by the police, ostracized from social activities, told he was not welcome, and witnessed horrific treatment by members of the majority trying to inflict their will and power on him because of his skin color.

This was his crash course in racism in America at a young age.

I will take the hit as a parent for not doing the best job at cultivating my son’s Black identity early on. No excuse. Like my (adoptive white) parents, I wasn’t that equipped to expose him to the roots of his culture — and I’m Black. Failures early on in discovering my own identity, the environment that I grew up in, all contributed to my ineffectiveness as an educator and cultural mentor in my son’s upbringing. This, I regret every day.

Though I have since used my life experiences as a springboard in teaching him who he is, who his ancestors are, and the richness of his culture, his embracing of his community has become an awakening for both of us.

At 22, he is developing an appetite for taking a more active role in his own life, which is beginning to define his character. In recent years he has questioned his surroundings and as a result, acknowledged his place in the world and how he is treated as part of an underrepresented community. This newfound awareness has gone far in establishing his sense of self — thankfully. He is learning what matters most. He is discovering his Blackness.

Metamorphosis

Watching your child taking pride in who they are is gratifying. As parents, we want the best for our children, however, as a Black parent, the thought of your child having to endure the pains of a society that only sees them as a throwaway is beyond heartbreaking.

My objective has always been to be upfront with my son about the world we live in and how many will view him as being less than — as someone, by all accounts, not worthy of the same rights as his fellow (white) neighbor.

Wherever he goes in life, he will no doubt encounter anti-Black discrimination, be impacted by systemic racism, and continue to navigate a landscape of white supremacy. It’s unavoidable. Being 6’6,” Black, and male, he is a walking trifecta for bias and feared by many in the white community. Already with a few societal strikes against him, his path has been challenging, though recently by acquiring the tools and self-assuredness to take the fight head-on, he has strengthened his resolve keeping him more connected to who he is becoming.

A man who stands for nothing will fall for anything. — Malcolm X

An unexpected by-product of discussing with my son the heinous realism of racial injustice in this country and his having to experience first-hand the shit our community goes through has not only shaped his outlook as an individual but, surprisingly, has brought us closer together. Not that this is a blueprint for how to strengthen a relationship with your child but seeing their growth and how they can blossom into a self-aware, introspective individual is something I hope all parents would hope for.

My hope is that he will find the success in life he deserves and at the end of the day, be happy in how he sees himself. He might have arrived late to the party but he’s here now and we need all the help we can get. After all, he might not have a choice.

We need more soldiers. We need more leaders. I’m proud to know he is on his way.

Thank you for reading!

Follow me on Twitter: @gcorreiawrites