Our Boys -- A Poetry in People O.G. So Very Needed Right Now

I'm often slow to process big things; heavy things. I like to take the time to gather information, to hear people's perspectives, to learn as much as I can. And then, with all of these things collected, I reflect. I more than reflect, actually. I stew over them until I can understand and articulate my own feelings about them and see where I, individually, fit in; what my responsibility is; what capabilities I have to offer.

On May 25, 2020, George Floyd was murdered in Minneapolis by police -- men sworn to protect and serve. He could have been just one more of the untold number of Black men and women that are murdered simply for being Black and swept away without sound or repercussion.  But his death, so blatant and bold in the light of sun, on a public, trafficked road, in full view of spectators to see, would compel the fury to rise within us and say NO MORE. There have been more, though. More Black men, women, and children have been murdered since.

May we not ignore, too, -- and may our fury explode for, too -- the Brown men, women, and children who were separated from their families and caged inhumanely, indefinitely, without voice or representation -- and remain so because they are Brown, because they are deemed not worthy of seeking safety and success in our country.

So as I have reflected (and continue to reflect) on these horrors and consider my role in each, my place is, first and foremost, as a mother. How dare I enjoy blindly the freedom of sending my children outside to play without fear or to provide them with schooling and activities to stimulate their minds, their growth, to secure them futures of success, when other mothers are not afforded the same? How dare I quietly enjoy this privilege?

This photo is one of my all-time favorites. It was taken with my very first ever camera -- analog and beautiful -- whose minimal features I learned by sneaking photos of passersby as I remained safely hidden behind the windows of my home. This mother took a moment to sit on a step across the street from my home with her boy; giving his little legs a needed rest. She radiates the love she has for him. She would, I know, give him the world. And I want that for her. And for him. And for all of the mothers and sons and daughters. We all deserve to birth our babies and nurture them in a world that we feel confident in to provide nourishment and safety and opportunity for so that our only concern should be in finding a spot for them when they get tired and need to rest their little legs and enjoying the moments of sitting with them, being with them, as they do.