how

I was looking at my oldest son one morning. He was wearing a scowl, slumped shoulders, and hoodie pulled up covering his head. I cracked a joke, and watched him smirk in all his adolescent angst.

Later that afternoon, I was at our local mall when I spied a handful of teenage boys. Their skin was various shades of black. They wore their pants low, their hoodies high, and their shoulders slumped. My normal reaction (and implicit bias) was to be afraid. But I was not this time.

This time my stomach dropped, and I held my breath.

I saw my son in each of these boys. My son with the beautiful, light brown shade of Guatemalen skin.

I sat in my car, and cried. For all the times I reacted in fear, with my biases unchecked. I cried for these boys I did not know, and their lost innocence. I cried for their mothers, and fathers who worried about them All The Time. I cried for my son, who would one soon day be feared and targeted, because of the color of his skin. I cried for myself, and my unknowing until that moment.

How do I tell the world what a sweet boy he is? That he still sleeps with his baby blanket, and he still hugs his best friend. How do I protect him when I’m not with him? How will he react to the discrimination he will face? How will his white brothers show up for him? How will his white friends show up for him? How do we unlearn fear which fuels hate?

I sat in my grief for some time. I felt its sadness and rage engulf me. I didn’t leave until I found a ray of hope. It was gentle, and quietly shined its light through the darkness. I grabbed ahold, and held on for dear life.

I arrived home to all three of my sons goofing around in the kitchen. I grabbed onto each one for much too long, making them squirm out of reach. I told them we needed to talk, which was met with long and overemphasizing sighs, accompanied by dramatic eye rolls. They sat, they listened, they talked.

How do we do better, mom?

How?

Justice will not be served until those who are unaffected are as outraged as those who are. “ ~ Benjamin Franklin