Black Future Month

Posted on | May 28, 2020 | 1 Comment

My youngest two boys went to daycare in their “Black History Month” t-shirts.

It felt like the smallest of things, yet something I could do to say, I don’t know what. Maybe to say that it’s not Black History Month but we’re still learning? Maybe that we’re learning for a better future? Maybe that we’re sorry?

I don’t know.

I feel like I don’t know much of anything these days.

We never talked about race when I was growing up. There were a couple of times when people in my family made derogatory comments, but I always knew that they were wrong. I don’t know who told me they were wrong, I just knew. I was one of four white kids in my elementary school so if anything, I was the different one. I was the minority in that setting.

I think it was good for me.

I think it’s good for white people to be outside of their comfort zone… it’s just hard to do that when it feels like the whole damn world is apparently our comfort zone.

This weekend broke my heart in ways that it hasn’t been broken since I wanted a sleepover birthday party in elementary school but I wasn’t allowed to invite one of my best friends because she was Black. It was the early 1980s. We lived in the South. Some people in my family had views then that they no longer hold, but I remember that day well.

I didn’t have a sleepover party that year because having her present was more important to me.

Having my Black brothers and sisters present should always be more important to me.

I wish it was more important to everyone.

My boys and I will do better than the police officers in Minnesota.

My boys and I will do better than Amy Cooper.

My boys and I will learn.

And we will be better.


All of us.

I don’t really know what else to say.


One Response to “Black Future Month”

  1. Sharon
    May 28th, 2020 @ 11:30 am

    It’s heartbreaking and sickening. I write letters, make calls, donate money, do my best to teach my sons, but none of it feels like enough.

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