I never had conversations about growing up black and male in America with my father. I don’t think he ever had conversations about growing up black and male in America with his father.
I ask myself was I prepared for the ambivalence that comes with being Black and male in America. Did my father ever really lay out how complicated that could become or was going to be? I ask now, as a Black male like many who are coming of age, watching violence against us like no other unravel and I’m left sad more than scared.
Have we failed as Black men? Have we failed to be the keeper of our brothers?
Images of traditional Black masculinity are being targeted.
From Barack Obama and Bill Cosby to now Colin Kaepernick and Terrence Crutcher, us Black men have been all over the media. There we are in big bold letters. Black men of all ages, of all occupations, of all classes, of all complexities of life; have we failed each other?
We are approaching a new era of Black masculinity. With #BlackLivesMatter being the current vessel it flows through, one by one we are dying. All of us are dying. As Black men, we all know how it feels to be perceived as a troublemaker, a perpetrator, a danger to society. We all know how it feels to be watched and followed for no reason. We all know how it feels to be inadvertently labeled at an early age and be forced to wear that label like a scarlet letter. Have we failed?
Have we failed as fathers, sons, brothers, mentors, and friends? Our sons who look like Tyre King, what do we say to them? How do we find the words to prepare them for a life in a society that will turn their backs on them? Our brothers who look like Colin Kaepernick who kneeled before the National Anthem in protest, do we stand beside him? Have we looked past him being an athlete in protest but rather a man of color standing in solidarity for a greater cause? Have we failed?
Can we fail at something that was never meant for us? Can we fail at being a Black male in America when that image wasn’t even defined by us but rather for us? If we have, can this failure be redeemed? In the wake of Keith Scott, Tyre King, and Terrence Crutcher, is there a code of redemption we can establish as Black men to each other? Can there be a channel of communication?
I never had those conversations with my father. But now that I see through his eyes I realize I feel the exact pain he feels but rather express it in ways not only did he never learn how to do but also allowed to do. I proclaim by embodying all that is Black and male the very code of redemption lives in me. It lives in all Black men.
Have we failed? Can we be redeemed?