A Reminder
Last week was Spring Break and we decided to take a day trip to Idyllwild. We took the scenic route and marveled at the change since our last trip when everything was covered in fresh snow. It has since melted and uncovered a completely different landscape. It seemed appropriate as we enter into this new liminal space of re-entry. Things have slowly reopened, children are returning to school and politicians are setting deadlines for economic reopening. None of us knows what this will look like exactly or the precise timing (despite claims) but this new season welcomes possibility.
During that drive everything felt new. And then I looked in the rear view mirror, saw a Sheriff's vehicle and my gut dropped. This was not a new feeling. My husband was driving and though he was following all the rules (except he usually drives below the speed limit, which drives me mad) I started to imagine what would go down if we were pulled over. In true LeTania fashion I imagined the worst case scenario. He keeps his wallet in his front pocket and I recognized that as a mistake. If he had to reach for it, the officer might assume or rationalize that he was reaching for a weapon. What if our children had to witness a tragedy like so many have had before?
I was reminded that 2,000 miles away the Derek Chauvin trial is still happening. I was reminded that a 9-year-old girl had to take the stand and testify about witnessing George Floyd’s murder. I thought of the many Black children who witnessed terror like this over the course of our history and were never given the chance to testify. I understood that this kind of terror has been re-lived in the hearts, minds and bodies of Black folks in this country for generations.
I was reminded that we will need to have “the talk” with our children (most especially with my brown boys) when we explain to them how they should move, act and speak if they are approached by the police. I pray that this won’t be applicable when they are old enough for it to matter but I am not counting on that. There is an entire system of policing that is rooted in violence, slavery and Jim Crow. No, I don’t believe everyone who has chosen to become a police officer is evil but I do believe we have a culture more attuned to anger and violence than education and care. It is no wonder that we find ourselves in such a divisive moment as many of us demand that all the truths of our country’s history be uncovered and understood completely.
This is not the first time I’ve talked about these fears. My grandfather left the south for his life and I see it as a blessing that the Black men in my life (my father, uncles, husband) never had a violent encounter with the police. But imagining my boys as young men, in this context, haunts me.
I know some people will say that if my kids stay out of trouble they should have no problem. I have heard others say that if I teach them to behave, we should be fine. If you know me, you know I run a pretty tight ship but no amount of stellar parenting (not that I claim to have accomplished that) will remove the threat of a dangerous person in power. And no unarmed person--adult or child--deserves to be murdered in the street. That is the bottom line.
Yes, let’s teach our children to be kind, respectful and honor the humanity in everyone. But all of that teaching is for naught until people in power recognize the humanity in all of us as well. As we step into this season of renewal and reopening, it should be our greatest commitment to realize that truth. No economy could ever replace that.
