This has been sitting in my “drafts” section of my blog since March 2017 and I had just been too afraid and paralyzed to post it.
Since February 26, 2012, I have been paralyzed. For those of you who know me, this may come as a surprise. I have still been getting up each day to manage my household, homeschool, drive my kiddos to ballet and gymnastics, shop at Costco, prepare meals for my family, go to play dates, and all the other activities I do as a mom. I still smile on the outside, plan birthday parties, cheer at my children’s games and enjoy my favorite sugar cookie from Dorothy Lane Market on Friday evenings. I crack the occasional joke about mom life or how Ohio gives me the opportunity to experience all four seasons in one day. But something in me was altered that Sunday night when I heard about Trayvon Martin’s murder.
The following months and years would prove to increase my paralysis as his murderer was acquitted of all charges and a myriad of other names would be added to the list of those black and brown bodies killed. I watched as each black and brown person was somehow dehumanized or “justifiably” gunned down. I watched as Michael Brown’s body was displayed in the street for four hours for the community to see. For me to see. Where is the humanity in that?Justified or not, it felt like a modern day lynching. I watched as Tamir Rice at age 12 was gunned downed in Cleveland. I watched as John Crawford was gunned down at the Walmart I frequent in Beavercreek, OH.
I felt paralyzed as each black face flashed across the screen and I realized that in certain circumstances, that could be my son. Fear gripped me when my son would come down in a hoodie, so I would make him go back upstairs and change. I eventually removed the majority of them from his wardrobe. I remember slapping a toy gun out of the hands of my son and forbidding him to play with it ever again. When he asked me why, I just stood there paralyzed and in shock at my own level of fear and anxiety.
I watched as people of color protested what appeared to be injustice in many cases and my “friends” responses.
- “This is why we stand for the flag” with a picture of a widowed military spouse
- People should protest the “right way”
- All Lives Matter
- Blue Lives Matter
- or worse……Silence
For most people in my world, it was just business as usual, even at “my” church. I was reminded that I am not just a homeschool mom, a gymnastics mom, a ballet mom, a christian mom, a military mom. I am a black mom raising black kids in a world that seems indifferent or ignorant to their experience. I am a black mom in a world that seems apathetic or ignorant to my experience.
As my black boys aged, they began to ask their own questions about all that was going on?
Mom, what should I do if I am stopped by the police?
Mom, do you think people feel threatened by me?
Seasons of Motherhood 