Tonight I witnessed a black mother cry
Real, strong and genuine tears
That left her speechless
Over her 7-year-old son
A star scholar
He was rising as a leader in his class
Always so enthusiastic to learn
To show the class what he knows
To help his friends if they get stumped on a question
I’d seen this mother cry tears over her son before
But never had they evoked tears from my own eyes
Raising a black boy comes with
A constant anxiety
A throbbing heart
A fear of what the world might do to him
As the world fears his very existence
I sat in front of this mother as tears began to form in my eyes
I felt her fear
Recalling Tamir, Trayvon, Jordan and so many more
Trying to feel for just a moment, how hard this must be
How could she not bear tears for the burden of black motherhood?
I touched her arm and assured her
That Terrell is soaring through every aspect of school as our new class Vice President who is excelling in reading, math and is quite the critical thinker
I felt her joy
Recalling Obama, Mandela, Martin, Malcolm and so many more
Effortlessly feeling for a moment, just how proud she must be
How could she not bear tears for the blessings of black motherhood?
I understood every tear that fell from her eyes
Each of those tear-filled, speechless pauses as her words were swallowed by relief
To raise a black son to simply stay alive in our streets is a blessing
But we are not settling for that
Our mothers will stop at nothing less than our sons soaring
Against any odds
Tonight I witnessed a black mother cry
Real, strong and genuine tears
That left her speechless
Over her 7-year-old son
How could she not bear the tears, the burdens, the blessings, the joys of black motherhood?
...And where would we be without them?
By: Naa-Shorme, Creator of Write to Live
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