Taking a moment to wonder at the whirlwind day I’ve had. Can you relate?
Explaining to your daughter what the world sees, wants, and expects when they
-hear her speak distinctly, intelligently, with certainty
-look at her body
-ask to touch her hair
-meet her mother
and then encouraging her to tell them to go straight to hell. Charging her to
-push, feel, and find her way
-get her due
-refuse to be held hostage by others’ needs
-guard and tell her own story
-love deeply without fear
Carefully dismantling for your son the concept of survival:
-outlining protocol with the police
-talking through white girls
-talking through white girls families
-reading Malcolm X
and then lifting him high and casting his net to:
-never step aside out of habit
-walk tall in any environment
-hold his ‘hood in his heart
-and keep money in his wallet
-and find time to do what he loves.
All this and it’s only Monday, ya’ll. I literally covered all this shit with them tonight; along with homework, dinner, a work out, a snuggle and a few eye rolls. I’m fragile, and lost, and I feel a cold ass wind blowing through the crack in my heart. But I’ll empty out my whole damn chest cavity if it means they will have lives, be happy; settled and cozy in their own skin. Yes, I’ve parented with a rum-induced buzz, and I’ve said the wrong shit sometimes. Ok, I say at least one fucked up thing per day. But I’m present. Every day. That’s gotta count for something, right? I know Parenting magazine ain’t putting my twisted ass on its cover anytime soon, but I’m here in the thick of this expensive ass, convoluted journey.
I figure I got at least another 10 years to go. But we’re gonna have a hell of a decade together. Turkey wings, road trips, movie nights, break ups, meltdowns, ashy feet and LOTS of tears (mine and theirs). And it will rarely be splendid and Cosby-like. But it will be ours and intact and precious.