Outrage

The first time I heard about Trayvon Martin I was completely and totally in a state of raw emotion and outrage. This was before the trial and before the acquittal, but my eyes were open and I was paying more attention. Then came Jordan Davis. Now it is not only at the hands of certain fearful white men with guns, but the police with the murder of Michael Brown. I have now seen a borage of articles about the clear discrepancies with which unarmed black men are killed by police in comparison to white men. In certain communities it is astounding. All this time there have been statistics that have been clearly swept under the rug regarding these incidents.

When Obama was elected, I had a rush of emotion as a white woman who loved a black man that if we were to one day have children I could look them in the eye and tell them they can be anything they want to be just like I could if I had married a white man. Recalling tears of joy streaming down my cheeks and taking a deep breath and embracing with hope the new world we lived in. I believed times were truly changing and I like to believe they still are and this time it is for the sake of the two sons I have had since the election in 2008.

Not knowing what to do with my anger and frustration that has been bubbling since Trayvon Martin’s killer was acquitted as the murders continue and more mothers bury their young sons, I have chosen to do my best to keep my sons safe. We moved from a place where I worried they may be in danger of experiencing racially motivated incidents. I do not wish to shelter them, but I certainly do want to do all I can to ensure their safety. In our new town they require police to wear cameras on their uniforms. A measure that should be applied everywhere, but until that happens we will have to explain the realities of being a black man in America.

Also we will have to have conversations with our children that in some ways are almost more complex than the children of parents of the same race. Not only do we have to explain they may face bigotry, prejudice and perhaps overt racism and fear for their lives or perhaps lose their lives, we must explain that this could happen at the hands of someone who looks like me. This powerful realization has brought me to my knees with the force of a punch to the gut.

I have always been open and honest about my fears about intolerance and racism and willful ignorance toward the existence of both. Not knowing how they will impact my children is very difficult. I am struggling a lot with my emotions as tensions escalate in Ferguson, MO after the murder of Michael Brown. I am compelled to speak out and ask for people to pay attention to these events. Mostly I am asking white people, my family and my friends, to read articles or to look at video of these events with empathy. Saying things like if this was your child or something similar to induce understanding and concern. Instead I feel a push back from white America where they would prefer to not be faced with these issues. Some go so far as to deny their existence overtly, but others simply prefer to turn a blind eye because it is simply too painful to believe that someone who is unarmed could be gunned down without some sort of reason.

I do not have that luxury to ignore. In this awareness I am compelled to find other mothers who have an understanding similar to mine. I know black mothers and white mothers primarily, but I do not know any white mothers of black children. I say they are black only because the world will regard them as black. No one looks at Obama and refers to him as interracial. To the world he is black.

Lately I am seeking out mothers who share my experience in a way that is deeply personal. I look for them in articles, in blogs, and on Facebook to see them speaking up in a way that makes me say…yes that is exactly how I feel. So far I have not found them, but I will keep looking. The truth for me still remains I am a white mother to black children. I am afraid for them, saddened by these events and most of all outraged!