The past few weeks have been tough to say the least.
As a Black woman who was born and raised in the Deep South, racism and police brutality aren’t anything new. I’ve seen it my entire life, was warned about it by my parents as a pre-teen, and have continued to experience it throughout the rest of my life.
I remember being with some friends in a high school just hanging out after a party or something late at night. Two of our male friends were about to walk somewhere nearby, I can’t remember where but it wasn’t too far. But it was late, and dark, and all of the females in the group immediately stopped them. I remember saying, “Y’all better come get back in this car. Y’all look suspect.” The phrase “y’all look suspect” became a common way for us to jokingly-seriously tell our Black men to refrain from doing something that would appear normal and non-hazardous would the same action be conducted by a White male. Another friend said, “You fit the description. Sit down.” One of them chuckled a little bit and they decided not to go for that walk. They knew we were right.
Fit the description of what, you ask?
Of WHATEVER just happened anywhere! It doesn’t matter.
I remember my senior year of high school, my then boyfriend called me after he and his best friend had been laid out in the cold, on the ground, on Christmas Eve, in his grandmother’s front yard by police because they said their car fit the description of a car they were looking for. We soon found out the car they were actually looking for looked NOTHING like the car they were in. That night was the first time I saw him cry.
When I first heard about Ahmaud Arbery, I immediately thought about my best friend who I thought of because my Apple Watch went off a couple of weeks ago letting me know that he’d walked 4 miles and I was like “where on earth is he going??!?” and texted him to check on him. But he said he did it because he wanted to map out the distance so you could run it later.
I shouldn’t have to worry about my men like this just for going on runs. Just for living life in general. But I do. I’ve done it all my life. I do on an entirely different level now for my own son. My sweet, precious boy. Who in 5 years will almost be the same age Tamir Rice was when he was killed by law enforcement officers in Cleveland. A child who was murdered and then referred to as: “Black male, maybe 20, black revolver, black handgun by him...”; he was 12 and it was a toy gun.
Me and my 5-year-old son, David Alexander Flores.
And now our hearts cry for George Floyd and Breonna Taylor. My soul cringes for the world I’m raising my children in. But it’s the same world my mother raised me in, and hers raised her in and hers mother raised her in.
America been America.
Bama been Bama.
I’m tired of being killed like animals in the street. I’m tired of being told how to live. Don’t go outside at night. Don’t go outside in the day. Don’t go to the park. Don’t go to the ATM. Don’t play loud music. Don’t have a gun permit. Don’t disobey orders from officers. Don’t obey orders from officers. Don’t disobey orders from anyone White. Don’t try to breathe. Don’t run. Don’t jog. Don’t drive. Don’t wear a hoodie. Don’t be a man. Don’t be a boy. Don’t be.
I’m tired.
3 Tips To Explain Race Relations & Police Brutality To Small Children
Watch the movie Zootopia with them. If they’ve already seen it, watch it again and pause to explain to them how humans behave like this as well and how the goal is for humans to come to the same conclusion they do at the end of the movie.
I did this with my kids the first time we saw it and we are going to watch it again today. Of course, it’s not exactly the same but the message is clear and in a way they can understand.
Register for the PBS Race Relations Talk for parents. This isn’t something I recommend you watch alongside your children as it will likely touch on some specific instances that you may not be ready for their littles ears to hear just yet. But it may be a great time for them to go outside to play or watch a movie in about room. Register for this free online event here.
Sit down and talk to them plainly about your own experiences and beliefs. How you how you feel about people of other races, cultures, religions, etc. will probably have the most initial impact on them. Answer questions they may ask. Try to not speak from a place of anger, but it’s okay to show your passion on the subject. Don’t just speak about the need for change in the future, but let them know of injustices in the past. Don’t keep that from them. Above all, make sure the conversations ends on an air of hope.