Letter from A Black Mother

@MDFEME asked me recently how do you feel about the recent killing of black people by the police and the uprising in #blacklivesmater protest?

When asked that question, I was made painfully aware of my flood of emotions due the fact that I wear different hats in my life. The hat for myself felt “fine” because this is not new and as a black woman living in America, I have developed a defense mechanism where I make events like these don’t affect me. In other words, my heart has been hardened and numb.

Then my hat of a physician, I am disheartened because COVID-19 is real and most of these pictures have the same population that are dying at a disproportionate rate due to COVID-19 are out protesting without a mask. I am also saddened by the necessary evil of the mental strain of my patients, watching all these videos of a life like their own being degraded.

Then I have the hat of a wife of a Black man in America and I am struggling. I am struggling to find enough words of positivity throughout the day when all he is reminded of is how much he is a subordinate in America.

The hat that keeps drowning me, day after day, is the hat of a mother of a black boy in America. When I have this hat on I am outraged that a parent could raise a man to feel that his race is superior to another. I am terrified because my emotions from watching WHEN THEY SEE US comes right back. “When they say boys will be boys, they are not talking about my son, when does he ever get to be a boy?”. I am hurt that one-day I must tell him that even though I admire and believe in him, certain people just see him as a threat to society and they don’t believe his life is worth much.