My Fatherhood... Lessons From a Black Father

 I am the father of two brown boys. Amongst the various responsibilities that come with leading a family, ensuring their safety is of high priority. To ensure their safety means that I must equip them to exist as black men in America. I was recently given a beautiful message from a friend. 

“From our family to yours, from a "white" family to a "black" family we are sorry that this is how you are attacked and how we are portrayed. I love you guys and your family. Raising our child to not pay attention to color, but love only, is a job that I've been grateful to pass down from my father. Although it does not change this world, please know that we see the problem and are doing everything in our ability to keep our children on the correct side of the ignorant fence this country has put up against other beautiful human beings. Black lives matter, big time, to this white family…all love. I salute you and stand behind you as a parent. You have to have certain conversations with your boys that I'll never have to have with mine. And there's a very big problem with that.”

 This message was real & transparent. However, it is possibly the first time I have heard this stated from the lips of someone not black. There are conversations that I will have to have with my children that my white friends will simply never have to have. 

 In one breathe, I tell them… you are strong, you are smart, with focus you can do anything that you set your mind to. In the same breathe, I have an obligation to inform them that certain people in higher authority may disrespect you… and when they do, say yes sir and no sir. In one breathe, I tell them that they are superheroes and can achieve their dreams… the next breathe… the playing field is not even… for you to be considered somewhat equal, you have to reach Michael Jordan excellence in everything you do. To ensure the safety of my boys, I must let them know that a traffic stop is not about respect. It is about making it home alive. 

    2 years ago… on the way home from school, my 3rd grader had a question for me. Apparently, he got into a bit of a disagreement with a fellow classmate at school that day. I was told by his teacher that the other kid involved was acting aggressively towards my child. According to the teacher, my son was simply trying to figure out why his classmate was so upset. Looking distraught on the way home, my son asked me, “Dad, why did the teacher’s assistant grab me but no one held back my angry classmate?” For some reason, my brown child was looked at as the aggressor even though he wasn’t

    That story reminded me of when a friend & I were pulled over… routine traffic stop. According to the police officer, the passenger rear tire crossed over the white line on the right side of the road… honestly, those were his words. The officer, then asked my friend and I to exit the vehicle. After doing that, I was handcuffed and placed in the backseat of the police car. My friend, who is not black, was highly upset. As I was escorted to the police car, I tried my best to calm him… telling him, “dude relax… just answer the officer’s questions and this will be over soon… Don’t freak out bro.” The other officer, questioned my friend outside of our vehicle… no cuffs. The remainder of that ride home, I had to explain to him my friend that what he had just experienced is, unfortunately, not uncommon.

    Luckily, I was driving alone the one time I was handcuffed on the side of Broadway during Nashville rush hour. I was pulled over because the tiny light above my rear license plate was apparently not working. I had just come from locking up at work. At the time, I worked at a bank. I was dressed in a buttoned up shirt & tie… still nicely knotted. Unfortunately, I accidentally left my wallet at work… which meant that I would have to unlock the bank after this ordeal to get it. I communicated this to the officer. I also assured him that he would see that all of my driver’s license, registration, & insurance credentials were credible once he looks up my info. Hands on the wheel… yes sir… no sir… somehow, I still managed to end up bent over on the trunk of my car for 20 minutes in handcuffs for all of the downtown Nashville to see. I could hear the words of my father, “when it comes to cops… just make it home.” Thank God, I did.

    Recently, there was a petition circulating regarding the killing of Harambe, the gorilla… an amazing animal (300,000 + signatures). Last year, there was a petition circulating in regards to justice being served for the killing of Cecil The Lion (137,648 signatures). Why is there such a lesser passion towards the murder of so many black fathers and black sons? Why are there so many people trying to justify the cracks in our law enforcement?

    These are the things that I have to educate my children on. Of course, they will study the ugly history of America in schools. They will write reports on how our people became free. However, in the same breathe, I must caution them to limit the perception of their freedom. “Son, if your white friends are running around in a mall, acting like teenagers, you can’t do the same thing.” “Umm… no you cannot play with your friend & his toy guns in their front yard… someone may mistake your being a 10 year old carrying a supersoaker, with you being a 20 year old carrying an assault rifle.” This is real life people. #TamirRice

    Fear God… respect authority… even when they don’t deserve it. It’s sheer survival out here. I hold on to hopeful messages like the one above, from my friend. It is not enough for me to have these conversations with my children. To all of my non-black friends… what conversations are you having with your white children? Are you honest with them about the privilege that they have?  Are you educating them on how they also need to be verbal at the first sign of injustice being displayed in our country? Like above mentioned, I hope that there are other white fathers out there, standing with us black fathers… setting an healthy example for their children to follow. In times like these, we should all mourn together. We should stand together. I’m calling out all fathers… let’s lead our little men & little women towards true greatness. 

In Honor of National Donut Day... 5 Things That Make Life Sweet

1. Family..
Family is everything. It looks different for everyone. It feels different. After my mother passed away, I found myself clinging to my immediate family. My husband... My children. They kept me grounded. Flooding me with love and support. 

2.Friends you can trust/ your village
There is nothing like a good friend. I don't take friendship lightly. Living in Los Angeles, without blood relatives is quite the task. There is no such thing as "to Grandmother's house we go". When we had our second kiddo, I was overwhelmed by the love and support from our village. I had such beautiful spirits surrounding me with love... Pushing me onward... Holding my hand... 

3. Good food
I love food!! Good food. Food that nourishes and pays honor to our magnificent bodies. I truly believe we are what we eat... Eat well.

4. Health/ peace of mind.. 
Being in good health and peace of mind is golden. I am a firm believe that we have one body, and it is beyond important to honor, cherish it, and thank it for serving us well. There are so many people who are suffering. Their bodies are failing. It is so important to be great-FULL.. Health and wellness is a gift.. Peace is a gift. 

5. Home
Home is not only where the heart is... It is where peace resides. Home is our sanctuary.  At home we are nourished.. Bathed in love..accepted... We guard our home as if it is our hearts... Because it is so very close to it.

 

13 Beautiful, Wise, and Strange Life Lessons That I Learned From My Mother...

Mother's Day... A Holiday that is set aside where we honor the super amazing women that we call Mama... a Holiday that resonates differently with each individual. To many it is a day of celebration. To others who have suffered loss of a mother, it can be an annual day of grieving. It really just depends. Its been almost four years since I lost my mother. She was an amazing woman. And to be completely truthful, I'm not just saying that because she was my mother, but simply because she was just that... amazing. In all transparency, typing out the word "was" is not easy. I'm not sure if it ever will be. Although my mother was with me only a short while, (passing away a little under two weeks before my 30th birthday), there are many lessons that she passed along to my sister, myself, and everyone else that met her. Some lessons were brilliant and beautiful... others were just plain out weird. Nevertheless...

Here are 13 lessons that I learned from my mother..

1. Always wear a pop of color. My mother was not a fan of the color, BLACK or GREY....by itself. If she wore black, she would add "a pop of color". She would often times nag me to do the same (FYI: I love the colors black AND grey) 

2. Sometimes you have to pat yourself on the back. In High School, I remember having an extremely overwhelming week and going on a major rant regarding how much I had accomplished that week, with little to no recognition (cue Family Matters background music). My mother's response..."Brandi, sometimes you have to pat yourself on the back. There will be times where your efforts, abilities, and YOU may go unnoticed. When that happens...pat YOURSELF on the back." In other words, YOU be your best cheerleader. 

3. Forgive quickly. My mother often stressed the importance of forgiving and letting go quickly. When she was "done" she was "done". She would say, "Its not worth it...Forgive quickly."

4. Take care of yourself. Go get dressed. My mother was no slouch. She took great pride in getting dolled up. She took even greater pride in getting "her girls" ready. Saturday nights were filled with hair washing rituals and hair rollers. Sunday dresses were picked out the night before and ironed. 

5. Wash up AND Wash Down...Pretty self explanatory

6. For the first time having sex, use Baby Oragel to relieve pain. (I told you that some of these are weird. But hey). Her thoughts were, if its safe to give to a baby, then it must be safe to put inside your vagina....Yeah, I DID NOT follow that lesson. She also recommended peanut oil. I DID however, try that.. It didn't help. 

7.  Cats hate babies and children. The truth is, my mom just hated cats. 

8. Stick and stones may break your bones, but words will never hurt you. In kindergarten, I was teased. Why? Because in the late 80's kiddos were not encouraged to practice mindfulness, and I was 1 of the 2 black kids in my then mostly white elementary school. I would come home crying telling my mom about my day, and how a kid was chasing me around with worms, and simply not being nice. She would make me say, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."

9. Its ok to have a good cry... Again, self explanatory

10. My mother taught that my spouse and I come first... even before the children. Now, I know that this may seem a bit backwards or off in today's society, but it makes perfect sense now that I am an adult... married 10+ years...with two kiddos. Allow me to explain... After years of physical and verbal abuse, my mother finally left my biological dad and remarried when I was eleven years old to the man who I now call my father. He was/ and still is a pretty dope dude. Moving forward...My mother's thoughts in "parents coming first" were that if the parental units are a hot mess, a wreck, dysfunctional... to put it simply, so goes the rest of the home... the children will follow. Peace, tranquility, love ALL flow from the top down. What did this look like growing up for me? My parents (my mom and dad/ step-dad) would often take trips WITHOUT my sister and I to re-connect/ connect. They would come back after their adventures (with gifts in hand of course), beaming with joy. Love was all around. 

11. Be the best Brandi that you can be. My mother stressed to my sister and I that there is and will NEVER be another Brandi or Cecili(my sister). We are it. Be great. My mother encouraged our individuality and taught us to embrace all of who we were.

12. You can buy almost anything from the Dollar Store. My mother was super creative. She had the unique ability to make the cheapest meal and table settings look like a feast ripped from the pages of Martha Stewart Living. Growing up, there were moments that we had money, and moments when we were on super budget. In those moments, no one knew the latter. 

13. My mother loved her body. Up until my sister and I hit the age of bringing friends over, one could easily find our mother walking around in her full woman glory pre-shower, post-shower, pre-bed...basically whenever she felt like it. She loved and appreciated the skin she was in. My sister, Cecili could often get her to "drop it like it was hot"... and my mother kindly obliged. 

#OscarsSoWhite....Who's Really At Fault? My perspective as a mother of two brown boys

"Its just movies", said the white guy. 

I sat there, speachless..but not shocked..

"It's JUST movies"..

I tried to think of a quick response. 

How could he say that its JUST movies?

This guy wasn't some racist bigot from the backwoods. He was a friend. Nor did I view his statement as such... Ignorant? Yes. Perhaps even lacking empathy. Nevertheless, I sat there. Mouth agasp..

First and foremost, let me start by saying that I am not the Lorax of all mothers of black children (google the Lorax, if you are not familiar). Nor am I an actor.  Simply put, the outlook shared in this blog post is reflected from a mother of two black boys, and that alone..

Jax, my oldest was six years old. He was sharing attributes of one of his many favorite super heroes at the time... Super Man. The friend whom he was having this discussion with listened intently, and commented on how one day perhaps he could be a super hero, or even better, perhaps HE could be Super Man. Jax responds, "I could never be Super Man..I'm not white." His friend and myself stood there shocked. More than likely sensing the surprise now resting on his two member audience, Jax quickly added "I can be President... I just can't be Super Man."

Why did my son feel this way?  I couldn't necessarily disprove his observation. I, his mother, who has enforced repeatedly that he can do anything, had nothing to say. Could this be true? Could it be that MY brown boys have a greater chance at ruling the free world, than being a vigilante in tights? Perhaps. Either way, there was obviously a clear message being received by my then six year old. I CAN'T BE SUPERMAN.. and more specifically, BROWN BOYS CAN'T BE SUPERMAN.

Initially, I purposed for this piece to be centered around the #OscarsSoWhite hashtag that has circulated social media. However, the truth is... there is a deeper rooted issue than simply African Americans being nominated for a gold trophy. Black actors would first need to get past the role/opportunity gatekeepers to be cast in the coveted roles that lead to the nominations. Actress, Viola Davis, said it best, “You cannot win an Emmy (in this case an Oscar) for roles that are simply not there”...“The only thing that separates women of color from everyone else is opportunity.” Blaming the Oscars simply puts a bandaid on a gunshot wound that needs healing. Perhaps sincere change starts with the previously mentioned "gatekeepers"... the producers, studio execs, and casting directors, who deem it socially acceptable to not cast a positive super hero of color OR the next African American James Bond... Yet still find an a majority white Egypt far easier to digest. Could the root problem begin with the lack of diversity in positions of power?

Based on USA Today's Diversity Report of 14 major film studios, we are headed for another possible repeat of an all white Oscars for 2017. None of the studios recieved A's... only 4 received B's... majority received C's... Paramount received an F. Acting head of the NAACP Hollywood branch, Robin Harrison mentioned of a coaltion that has been meeting with TV networks for the past 15 years... thus resulting in TV making more progress than the film world. Needless to say, there is work to be done.  

 Entertainment plays a part in our everyday lives. The diversity that we see in our day to day run around should be reflected as such. When black men are cast as astronauts sent into outer space, or simply a teacher (who rescues a classroom of inner city kids...not just black kids either)... that is when we have made true progress. As I mentioned previously, I am not an actor or The African American's Lorax. I am simply a mother who feels that the narrative must change... not just for my boys, but for all children of color. To the Studio Execs, Casting Directors, and Suits....Our children hear you loud and clear..

"Its just movies", said the white guy. But is it, really?

Eddie Murphy's speech when he presented the award for Best Picture at the Academy Awards in 1988.