Raising While Black: A Survivor’s Guide
It’s all hands on deck. This is the only life we have.
The protective layer
Not long ago I had a rather spirited conversation with my young adult son about confidence and the ability to take control of a situation in a way that would best suit his needs. His recent uneasiness stemmed from what he referred to as a “crippling fear” of presenting in front of his classes. Even with the material second nature, it was the action of regurgitating recently digested knowledge that gave him the shakes. The icing on the cake — fielding a possible deluge of Q&A afterward.
As parents, we never stop teaching, inspiring, caring, guiding, uplifting and nurturing our mini-mes. Parenting is a marathon with no water breaks. The constant management of such oftentimes feels insurmountable but somehow, we muster the strength to power through because we love our children and want them to experience a lifetime of happiness and fulfillment.
My advice for my son’s latest battle with his anxiety-laden “presenting affair” was to own the moment and use his inner strength to allow himself to embrace not only the material at hand but to keep an open mind and let his audience know, they were there to learn from him. He had the power. I will be the first in line to admit I am not a perfect father. In fact, at best I’m batting .500.
I have found that even the most basic life lessons are challenging and for what it’s worth I continue to fall but I always try to keep top of mind the point of the mission: do the best I can for my son and be there for him if he falls (and he will).
The world continues
A constant theme in my child-rearing playbook is the racial reality checks my son and I discuss. As he gets older and has more life experiences, his aptitude for deciphering the world’s barbarity has become more evident. His self-awareness, although not fully baked, is part of an armor he utilizes when confronting unfortunate personal atrocities.
This recent exchange came full circle when he made reference to me always being confident and approachable when engaging with people. As I look back now, he had offered this observation before. He pointed out when meeting someone for the first time, or simply engaging with someone, I am able to make the person feel relaxed and often, happy, after the encounter. My response… I wish it were my glowing personality that many flocked to for sage advice. Nope, it’s survival.
As a fly in the buttermilk, I learned early on, getting through each day can be an arduous road trip with no rest stops or maps at my disposal. A battle within a battle with the end game being more about survival than it is about living. Braving the outside with a potential target on your back in some ways feels like a responsibility to set up a future generation for a better life.
Like my African-American kinship, I did not get a survival guide at birth. Any battle strategies I polished over the years, I had to learn in the field. I did have some guidance from my parents — former hippies who knew of the realities in the world but who shielded me from social injustices for most of my childhood. I do commend them on their selfless support for which I tap into when teaching my son.
As the subject of the current racial divide in this country monopolizes the conversations I have with my son, I am reminded of how the constant objective is to continue to educate and keep in perspective the reality of the world we live in.
We live in a country where it’s become commonplace to hear stories of Black people, specifically Black men being mowed down just for breathing air. Both my son and I carry the extra burden of being large Black men. He, 6ft 6, and I, 6ft 4. You can imagine the extra stares and clutched purses we encounter most days. With this, it has become more crucial that an optimal interaction with those who don’t look like us be of the utmost importance.
The haters
As a side salad, let’s take a moment to address those who feel compelled to justify their own shortcomings by “whitesplaining” to the rest of us who’ve experienced these societal atrocities in life with the typical “you have a chip on your shoulder” or “you’re just being overly sensitive” or “there is no racism” or “it’s all in your head.” What I don’t think these self-proclaimed arbiters of truth realize is that historically, a marginalized and oppressed community with 400+ years of systemic racism as a backdrop, have more than enough justification to poke holes in their “opinion balloon.” Denial is one thing, complacency another. If any doubter out there would like to walk a mile or two in our shoes, I would gladly flip the bill for some new kicks. What size do you wear?
Time and time again I hear, read about, experience firsthand, or bear witness to, the perspectives of our white counterparts. “Why can’t they just stop complaining?” “Serves them right.” “This country is not racist.” “They should be happy with what they have.” “Stop blaming us for how bad your life is.” On and on and on and on… Funny how thought bubbles such as these tend to not hover over minority communities. Hmmm.
Strategies and Tactics
Navigating the field of play takes careful planning, thought, and strategy. Not having the benefit of a playbook to which I could reference or share with my offspring, trial and error became my coach. Since the time when my son’s hero lived in a pineapple under the sea, what I’ve been able to offer him is what I gathered and experienced from years of uncomfortable interactions.
Otis operandi
Have you ever gotten onto an elevator and a woman who is already in there quickly snags her young child close? How about the person next to you moving to the far corner once the doors shut?
When meeting someone for the first time, my initial inclination is to allow them the opportunity to take the lead in the greeting. A handshake, nod, embrace, or whatever accepted social greeting is the flavor of the week. This way, they maintain the power and have a choice of how they want to engage — unlike presenting in front of a college class. I often express to my son the importance of not only treating others how he would like to be treated but to also look out for his collective community. We need to look out for one another.
Over the years my posture has gotten worse. When speaking with folks, White women, in particular, I often lower my head, and tilt it to the side to give the impression I am listening to what they are saying — and to appear smaller and not pose as a threat. When in social situations I tend to keep the distance between myself and others further apart more than normal as to not be too “menacing” — as my father would frequently rib me on.
This is all calculated and has been for years. By making myself uncomfortable and spending those many hours with a heating pad on my neck or lower back, I am able to create ease for some, where a potentially negative situation could arise. Do I need to always do this? Perhaps not but a little discomfort is better than being arrested or potentially being shot.
12 items or less
Every time I leave the house whether it be to go to work, the store, for a walk, to an appointment, or what have you, the first thought that goes through my mind besides if I’ve left the house without underwear on, is if I might encounter a less than an optimal racially-biased opponent. You never know but to counter this I’ve had to develop ways to defuse the possibility of this happening.
My strategy is simple; disarm a situation before it even begins. Just being kind and respectful is not enough these days. When involved with a transaction at a store, I am overly friendly to the point that most might confuse my over-the-top neighborliness with insanity. This of course is met with bewilderment from the younger version of myself. I’ve tried to instill the unwritten rules — a different set of rules the Black community must adhere to:
- Don’t touch anything you are not planning on purchasing.
- Always get a receipt (and a bag for the item you bought).
- Don’t put your hands in your pockets.
- We’re still working on not wearing a hoodie all the time.
Calling a sales associate, or cashier by what is emblazoned on their name tag is my go-to. You’d be surprised at the confused looks I get when that acknowledgment surfaces. Typically, a smile and on occasion even an abundance of mutual respect are extended my way. Small gestures that on the surface might seem insignificant, but every social interaction is an advertisement for cordial engagement and needs to be practiced.
Applying this strategy has worked fairly well, however, unfortunately, I have seen the opposite where I wasn’t looked at in the eye or acknowledged at all, or worse.
I think it goes without saying; darts of “thank you” and “please” are frequent. This can be said for any interaction in daily life. Fortunately, I recently had the great pleasure of handing the fruit of my loins a passing grade for this little nugget. Let’s see how long it lasts.
Where do you see yourself in five years?
Soon my son will be a college graduate and enter the workforce. And with that, he will face many challenges, most of which will be beyond his control. For a recent college grad, the current employment landscape is less than ideal. For a young brother at this time in this country, he will most likely be confronted with the sad reality he could be passed over because of the color of his skin. If he is fortunate enough to go through an interview process, he’ll have to take certain measures to paint the most non-threatening picture for his potential employer. I know this all too well having experienced this firsthand.
My approach which I ritually remind myself while waiting in the car to go inside is to show the scheduled interviewer I pose no threat and am simply there to secure the gig. I have done the legwork — researching who I will meet and truth be told, what they look like. This gives me an idea of a possible uncomfortable interaction that could occur. I know there are some detractors out there grimacing right about now. Am I going in, profiling? I don’t think so. Again, this comes down to years of documented experience and a blueprint on how to get through a situation unscathed — and in the case of an interview, getting asked to come back.
Dodging the interview landmines is an entirely different animal — one that I have found has to be handled with kid gloves. I typically stand while waiting for an interview to begin. Believe it or not, the simple act of getting up from a chair and moving toward someone (especially white women) to greet them can be perceived as aggressive. Yes, I know. Hellllllooooo, SURVIVAL!
License and registration
Thankfully, I have never been on the business end of a cop’s gun or mistreated by an authority figure looking to stroke their ego by oppressing me because we don’t share the same ancestry. I have been harassed though and hopefully, this won’t come as a shock — harassed for nothing.
What I often teach my son is that police are generally suspicious and afraid of you at the same time. With his size as an added ingredient to a potentially uncomfortable situation, the burden is unfortunately on us — the Black community. Sometimes a caviler attitude especially from a young adult brain can be all the difference between compliance and interactions that could go south. Knowing how to handle a situation or interaction so it doesn’t escalate and end up with us being shot for no good reason should always be the objective.
We all know the proper etiquette expected when pulled over by the po-po. Be polite and respectful when approached by the CIVIL servant. Oblige when asked for cooperation, etc. Makes sense right? Now add to this those extra steps needed to take if you are Black (especially a Black male).
- Having your ID at ALL times is a given.
- If stopped, put both hands out the window in plain sight.
- Keep quiet and don’t speak unless spoken to.
- Explain every move as to not scare your questioner.
- Make every movement (if directed to) slow and deliberate.
- Be overly pleasant and conduct yourself as if your life depended on it — because it does.
Basically, put your captor at ease at all costs. Yessah, Massah!
Often when recalling an encounter or less than desirable interaction with someone of a different race or more specifically, the police, my first response to my son is asking what it is he did to defuse the situation. A bit selfish on my part perhaps. Admittedly I just want to know if what I had taught him over the years, sunk in. The education does not stop at sporting a license and registration. He should know his rights; knowing never to consent to a search. Don’t resist a search but know he should express his rights as a U.S. citizen and that these rights are afforded him under the U.S. Constitution. All the while, keeping his cool and being firm, but respectful.
We don’t take up residence in other people’s heads. We don’t know what they are thinking or what their fears could be. What we do know is we are in charge of taking out our own trash and we have control of our own actions. As we’ve heard time and time again the boys and girls in blue can be just as uneasy as us about a potential confrontation but I highly doubt it. At the end of the day, they get to go home to watch another episode of Law & Order. There is no guarantee we will be afforded the same luxury.
Let’s not mistake what on the surface may look like standard practices by the average polite and respectful person. If this were the case, we would see far less violence against the Black community.
We as Black people have to always act not just on our behalf but also on the behalf of the white folks we encounter every day. It’s exhausting. Of course, this is no way to live. We weren’t given a set of instructions at birth on how to maneuver through life when encountering our white neighbors.
Why would anyone want to constantly look over his/her shoulder or be suspicious of the person cooking their food or question who educates their children or asking who is providing essential medical care at a hospital or who it is cleaning their teeth or if the person who drives their children to school has a history of discrimination?
At some point, you just have to live, but you have to do so smartly, knowing not everyone will treat you with kindness and respect or has your needs in their best interest. Basic life lessons but when you are a minority in a country that was built on racism, survival is paramount and your only priority.
Why must Black people do all the work? It’s not my job to help you understand why institutional racism is cancer in this country. I’m tired of trying to help you with your guilt.
When it comes to my son, my priority is his well-being and safety, and that he lives a prosperous life. With the systemic racism in every fiber of the American flag, it can be difficult to snag that educator of the year award.
Not everyone in this world (and in America) wants harm to come to those who are not like them. And to those beautiful souls down for the cause and who embrace equality, I celebrate you. Knowing this, reinforces my confidence and provides me with additional tools for which I can continue my son’s education and surely secure that award. We all have a responsibility to the children of this world even if they are not our own. I’m doing my part. Are you doing yours?
Even when wearing the clothes of an upstanding law-abiding citizen, the skin color you proudly display every day shines bright like a beacon in the night. And for my melanin-challenged brothers and sisters who live on the other side of the fence, living your best life is as simple as stepping out the front door. For the rest of us, living our best life is being able to return home to open that front door once again.
Thank you for reading!
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