| While my son has not lived in my house for many years, I don’t fear when he leaves his house. My son is gay, and we are Jewish, but he grew up in an area where this was largely tolerated and to some level, accepted. When he left to go to college, he also selected a school that was very accepting on every account. Still, I worried. Then, he moved to other cities – Pittsburgh, San Francisco, and LA – all generally accepting cities. But still, I worried. Because mothers do worry. We worry that you will make bad choices, you will drink too much, do drugs that will have a deadly side effect, that you will go home with someone you shouldn’t have gone home with…. And, I also have a beautiful daughter, but today is not the day to ramble on about how much I worry about her safety. But trust me, I will on another day because being a woman in America has its own set of challenges. But, for the most part, I do not worry about either of them coming home. For the most part, I do not worry about him getting pulled over by the cops while jogging, birdwatching, driving, crossing the street, entering his home, or even being in his home, shopping, walking, talking, or getting killed in public. By.the.police. This is unimaginable and unthinkable to me. And, every pore in my body is angry at a system that treats and has treated our black sons so ruthlessly. I can’t hug my children because they are not with me and also because of COVID. But I know I will hug them again. Many black mothers will never hug their sons again. And for this, I am desperately worried. I worry that I am not doing enough and that the initial flames of outrage will burn out too quickly. And frankly, this worries me most of all. |
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