Category: Raising Brown Children

Philando Castile and Why Raising Little Brown Children Can be Scary

The conversation in my house is a lot different.  It goes like this: “Baby, if pulled over, and you are in the back, put your hands on the head rest where they can be seen, see but don’t see, look up, take your headphones out, be quiet, don’t play the music loud, don’t put the hood on, if stopped by an officer, what would you do, say this, if this happens, honey, let’s talk, you cannot go, stay with mommy, what happened at school today, did anyone say anything to you, no you cannot play with a mask, take it off, no toy guns, the water gun has to be bright orange”  The list goes on and on.  

Let’s have a very real conversation.  I am the daughter of a former officer.  Many of my closest friends are officers.  I am a firm believer they should be thanked, respected and they are definitely needed.

Now, as a mother, I have a different perspective.  My gentle giant is often just viewed as a big black boy.  Coming from a multi-racial family, even though we don’t see color, I do see color.  I am raising a brown child.  The conversation in my house is a lot different.  It goes like this: “Baby if pulled over, and you are in the back, put your hands on the headrest where they can be seen, see but don’t see, look up, take your headphones out, be quiet, don’t play the music loud, don’t put the hood on, if stopped by an officer, what would you do, say this, if this happens, honey, let’s talk, you cannot go, stay with mommy, what happened at school today, did anyone say anything to you, no you cannot play with a mask, take it off, no toy guns, the water gun has to be bright orange”  The list goes on and on.

Raising a brown child, I literally live with my heart beating extremely fast anytime he is not with me.  What if he is in the car with his father (a black male)?  When I see this video and read this article, I can only think, “how reckless!”  The officer killed an innocent man, could have killed the woman, the child, and the other officer on the other side of the car.  To shoot like that was nothing but reckless!  Why must our black men be feared; why is it okay to just take them away from this earth and their families?  This article is exactly why we say, Black Lives Matter.” We know others do too, but right now we are talking about ours.

Rest in peace to the man who worked for the public school system, who memorized over five hundred names and who memorized all of their food allergies.  You, sir, are the real hero; the real MVP!  My heart won’t stop aching over this.

And when the little girl begged her mom, “I don’t want you to get shooted.”  She is four years old!!!  Find it here

Dancing with my son

Oh, the joy I receive when I dance with my son! The smile on his face is priceless. It was more than giggles. It was the fact that he could dance! He was polite and wanted to lead the dance like a gentleman. I specifically remember our first little dance. He was four years old. We first attended a mother and son/ father and daughter ball that winter and then that summer attended a cookout. I made him so happy by taking him and dancing with him. Then, every year for 6 years, we attended the same mother and son ball. We also danced at his cotillion.

It doesn’t have to be formal events. It can be cookouts to your kitchen floor. Children remember experiences and this has been our experience!

I ask myself, will he remember the two of us dancing at ages 4, 8 and 10 once he is 25 and 35? I started recording our dances, so he would always have a memory. I encourage all to dance with your sons and daughters.

dancing with my son

What is it like to be a mother of a little brown boy?

I am scared he might have to hold his hands up one day even though he is innocent. I am afraid that even though his Papa was a cop (my daddy), he may be harassed while driving. I stay on him about what people might do to him and how he should react. I will end here. Before I go, I want you all to know that being a mother of a young brown boy is more than the nice pictures you see. It is like having an asthma attack and never catching your breath…. because…….”I CAN’T BREATHE.”

What is it like being a mother of a little brown boy? Well, my parents (married and together) raised 5 girls. I didn’t have brothers. I was used to girls… but now, as I grew up, I learned people look at them (brown boys) differently. They assume most come from broken homes, they assume they are unaccustomed and loud. I have to say, “stay with me, stay close, hold mommy’s hand.” I cannot let him walk the neighborhood. Even if his friends (not of his race) at school are loud… or misbehaving, he is questioned first (not at his old school, but yes, at his new school…as much as I liked them…he was). I get to know his teachers, volunteer, join the PTA board. Sure, I like doing that stuff; it is who I am, but…… I also want them to know who we really are. We are not thugs! We come from the middle class – upper-middle-class families and we are accustomed! He is brown, but he does NOT steal nor does he curse nor is he naturally loud. He just wants to be an 11-year-old boy. He isn’t looking at your daughter; he doesn’t think like that at 9, 10 or 11. He is not “fresh.”

I foster his love for chess because it teaches him to THINK BEFORE HE MOVES in all areas of life. I put him in PALS (Police athletic league), so he could like cops and they could like him. He does all the things your children do: camps, vacations, nice experiences EXCEPT I have to watch him like a hawk. When he is 16, he cannot just go to the mall like I did when I was younger, he cannot go to Kings Dominion without a parent; he must be protected. My mother hates my personalized plates. I like them. The cops know I am an educator and a mom. If I have a backlight out (that I won’t see until I am told), they pull me over and say, “where do you teach?” They know kids might be in the truck. I have to think ahead; be in protect mode all the time. I am always trying to protect him while at the same time keeping him exposed. I am scared he might have to hold his hands up one day even though he is innocent. I am afraid that even though his Papa was a cop (my daddy), he may be harassed while driving. I stay on him about what people might do to him and how he should react. I will end here. Before I go, I want you all to know that being a mother of a young brown boy is more than the nice pictures you see. It is like having an asthma attack and never catching your breath…. because…….”I CAN’T BREATHE.”

Kelly Johnson