Father Figure

5 August 2012

For as long as I can remember, I wanted children.

But I was terrified at the thought of having a boy.

See, I knew what to teach my daughter.

The instructions seemed obvious –

taught to me by a long line of wise, strong women.

“Speak up,” I would say.

“Baby Girl, you gotta let people hear your voice, or they will never listen to you.”

“You are beautiful,” I would tell her.

“Don’t let anyone tell you that you are anything less than a Nubian Queen.”

“Learn all that you can. Knowledge opens doors behind which

there are treasures you can only imagine - but take care –

not all of the things you need to know will come from books.”

“Listen to your grandmother – I learned amazing things from mine.”

“Elders are everywhere, and they each have a story to tell.”

“Respect yourself. Respect others…”

The list goes on and on.

But this voice kept echoing in my head

"What are you going to teach your son?"

So, I developed a plan and envisioned the finished product - A Man.

I would teach him to be both strong and sensitive.

He would be masculine without machismo,

have confidence devoid of cockiness.

I would teach him how to treat women.

I would teach him how to treat other men.

He would be a feminist.

bell hooks quotes would fall easily from his lips in casual conversation.

I would teach him all of the lessons that my brother failed to learn from his often absent father.

*sigh* He would be perfect.

But this silly little plan for creating a man required a blank slate.

And he comes to me scribbled on, with marks that will not erase,

pieces missing from being dropped one too many times.

He comes to me having lived more life in ten years

than many of the adults charged with his care.

And, last night, he called me a Nigger.

This beautiful brown-skinned boy whose

White mother had taught him so well to hate himself,

that he honestly has no idea that he, too, is Black.

Like a slap across the face, I am reminded that there is

so much work to do. So much hurt to undo.

And some days, I have no idea where to start.

Now I rarely wonder what I’m going to teach my son, but

How I’m going to teach my son?”