My Black Sons Matter

I have two brown sons. Although my oldest son is biracial, he is still seen as Black or Brown. I took him with me to a Black Lives Matter rally in Greensboro after the death of George Floyd. His father and I both agreed that this movement speaks to a life he was born into. The choices he makes, as well as those made by others around him, can determine whether he lives or dies. So, when I hear the words #BlackLivesMatter, what I truly feel is that My Black Sons Matter.

My husband has shared with me the fears he's carried growing up and the burdens he still feels daily as a Black man—burdens no one outside our community can fully understand. Both of our sons attend schools where they are not the majority. Their closest friends check boxes like "White" or "Other," and yet, as parents, Marshall and I must teach our sons how to safely navigate this world as young Black men.

Though they are both academically gifted, that isn't reflected on a driver’s license or visible from behind the wheel when they encounter law enforcement. Our photos and reassurances aren’t there to protect them. It’s just them and the system they face. It hurts that in the 21st century, we’re still teaching our children the same lessons that Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X taught, especially in a time when slogans like "Make America Great Again" feel like a throwback to darker eras of division.

For our family, it’s a reminder that America still has work to do—and until that work is done, we will continue to remind our sons that their lives, their safety, and their voices matter.