Dear Asher

Dear Asher,

I'm going to blink and all of a sudden you'll be old enough for me to have this conversation with you for real.  Which I dread.  Because although it’ll mean we’re able to have more serious talks rather than just building forts and watching cartoons, it also means that you’re old enough that you’re going to go through some difficult stuff, and it’s my job as your father to prepare you for that.

Your mother and I love you very much, which as you know we take every opportunity to tell you this.  We’re privileged to have the resources to give you a pretty good childhood.  You’re adored by Jada and Aaron, who have been a great sister and brother.  Our family isn’t perfect by any stretch, but we’re doing alright by you.

And you’ve been a good boy.  Like all kids, you have your special challenges.  But you’re a sweet boy who loves playing with his big sibs, cuddling with his Mommy, and going on adventures with me.  You love your books, put away your shoes without being asked, and are learning the importance of “please” and “thank you.”  We’re proud of you and we love you dearly.

I’m about to tell you something that has caused me much heartbreak and many tears, especially since you came into our lives.  Which is that Black people in this country are all too often targeted for suspicion, physical harm, and even lethal force.  This happens often enough that everybody you know who is Black has had at least one if not many such encounters, such that they have to constantly take care as they move about the world so as to stay safe.

You will have to bear this burden too.  In this country, you can be doing nothing wrong, from a good family, and yet still subject to surveillance or threat or worse.  Which means that as your father I have to prepare you for this reality in ways that your brother and sister won’t have to worry about.

You may be wondering how did we get here as a country.  That’s complicated, though you deserve an answer to that.  Can you give me a minute until we go over all that?  It’s relevant to the present – it’s how we got to this messed-up place – but let’s have that be a conversation for later.

The really terrifying thing about the danger that boys who look like you may face is that we’re not just talking about “bad guys.”  Sure, there are people out there who just don’t like Black people and have no problem saying so, or showing it, or worse.  And you will have to take care against those threats.

But the really terrifying thing is that more prevalent is people who would otherwise deny that they are racist until they’re blue in the face, and yet consciously or subconsciously they will look down on you, judge you, or be afraid of you.  And in doing so they will think the worst of you or insult you or put you in harm’s way, even if they don’t realize it.  Unfortunately, this may include people we know, who should know better but don’t: my friends and family members, or your friends’ parents, or people in our community.

What gets really dangerous is when the police get involved.  That might be because someone has decided that you are a threat and has called the cops because they’re suspicious of you.  Or maybe you get pulled over by a cop while you’re driving, or you encounter a cop on the street who is investigating a crime. 

I told you we were going to talk about root causes later, but one thing is worth mentioning now and elaborating on later, which is that in this country there is a long history of the use of government-approved force against black bodies.  Just like any profession, there are good cops and bad cops, and we should never smear all cops because of a few bad ones.  But, all cops are part of a system that at times reacts in ways that result in black boys being harmed or even killed.

I don’t mean to scare you, but I also don’t want to sugarcoat this, because I love you and I want you to know how important – how life and death – this is.  There may come a time in your life, maybe even lots of times, when you have an interaction with a police officer, and that interaction can go a lot of different ways, and I want you to do everything you can so that it doesn’t end with you getting hurt or worse.

I’m sorry to have to tell you this, and it pains me deeply that your world is going to be like this.  But in the worst of these encounters, it’s not going to matter that you’ve been a good boy.  It’s not going to matter that you’re Amy and Lee’s son, that you’re Jada and Aaron’s little brother.  Somebody is not going to know or care about those things.  Instead, they’re going to see a Black body, and their prejudice or their training or their instinct may be to be suspicious enough to think the worst of you, or even worse afraid enough to think that they should harm you before you harm them. 

I’m telling you these things, even though it is upsetting to do so, because I want you to be ready.  I want you to be able to stay calm, to do what you can to avoid anything that may escalate the interaction.  No sudden movements, no talking back, nothing that could be perceived as threatening.  We'll go over 1,001 more things here, but the most important thing in the heat of the moment is not whether you’re in the right or they’re in the wrong.  It’s that you make it out alive.

Every black parent has had to have this talk with their child, and has been able to rely on their own experiences to serve as warning and guide.  I am at a disadvantage in this sense, although it is a disadvantage that is borne of a privilege that allows me to move about the world without knowing that I am being constantly surveilled and regarded with suspicion. 

So everything I’ve just told you, I’ve told you from my heart, because I love you and I’m trying my best.  But I’m sure I didn’t do it right, so I hope you’ll forgive me for falling short and you’ll trust me to connect you to friends of mine who can fill in anything I left out or correct anything I said wrong. 

That’s another advantage you have, is we have so many good friends who have been willing, in the midst of all they’ve had to carry all their lives, to help me prepare you for your life.  You may have a sister and a brother and a mother and a father who love you.  But you also have a whole village of people whose love for you and shared experience in the world will help protect you.

My dear Asher, I love you more than I can express in words.  Part of what is hard about all of this is that it is a father’s job to protect his children, and while I can and will do all I can to prepare you for the world you are growing up into, I cannot honestly say that I can shield you from the ugliness and harm that so many boys who look like you have to suffer through.  But I will do my best, and will call on your extended village to help.  We love you and we affirm your right to be safe and happy in this world.  Your life matters because black lives matter.