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My son isn't macho. He's 13.


On Saturday, January 13, I had the pleasure to attend the 2024 MLK Celebration/Racial Justice Summit held by the Maryland State Education Association. It was wonderful to fellowship with other educators from across the state, learn from the student leaders, and watch the awardees share their stories about the impact they have had in their schools. The keynote speaker was awesome, but I must say that the breakout session we attended was awesome-er (not a word, I know). Dr. Daryl Howard, Equity Instructional Specialist from Montgomery County, Ied a presentation called "Imagine a School Where Every Black Boy Was Doing Well." He addressed many of the common narratives about Black boys in schools including behavior issues, deficit thinking, and increased scrutiny. He even addressed the neurological differences between boys and girls, and how to employ different strategies in the classroom to keep boys engaged. He ended the presentation with one poignant phrase that would change the educational landscape for all Black boys if put in practice: Love Black Boys Like Your Own. Period. The presentation was riveting and eye-opening, and made me think so much about the young men I had in my classroom, and of course, my own two boys.



If you know them, you know that they don't fit any stereotypical mold. Jakari enjoys guitar heavy instrumental music and is very chill, while Amari is a wonderfully awkward ball of energy- frequently spinning and running wherever he goes. They're unique and sometimes really stand out among their peers. Today, I received a notification from one of Jakari's teachers that he was being defiant and refused to comply with her request to remove his non-uniform jacket. This isn't like Jakari and it kind of caught me off guard, but when I took into account the source, I went into straight mama bear mode. This particular teacher reached out to me months ago about his "behavior." She described him as rude, disrespectful, and macho. Yes- MACHO. Jakari is 13 and about 5'8". He towers over many of his friends (and his big brother as you can see in the picture!), even though they were all pretty much the same height when middle school started. He's mild mannered and never gives us any problems. So to hear this from his teacher, I was shocked. But I couldn't get away from her describing him as macho. What's macho about a little boy? When I think of macho, I think of a man with a bunch of muscles, chest poked out, tight shirts, and thinks "getting girls" is a badge of honor. I don't think of my 13 year old son. She adultified my son in the same way that Black boys are always adultified in our society. They can't make mistakes, act silly, get angry, laugh too hard, cry, run, play rough, etc. They can't be kids. Because adults, like this teacher, see them as adults too. Or worse, they see them as a threat.



While I tactfully addressed this issue with Jakari today, how many other voiceless parents have had to endure HER behavior? She was comfortable enough to put these words in writing about my child- what is she saying to their face? Jakari has never complained about her, but his disdain toward school has gradually increased this year, and I believe she's part of the problem.


A few days ago, my friend called me very upset about an incident she had just witnessed in the parking lot. A group of Black pre-teen to teenage boys were roughhousing in the parking lot- pushing and shoving, talking loud, laughing, etc. It was cold out and they all had on those shiesties. A new fad that I personally can't stand, but it will fade soon. Simply put- these boys were being typical teenage boys. As she walked toward her car, unfazed by the boys and ready to get out of the cold, she noticed a White woman, that was previously loading her groceries, had stopped to stare at the boys. She was disturbed by the expression on the woman's face, so she stopped and began staring at her. One can only imagine what was going on in that woman's mind. Was she afraid of the boys? Was she going to yell at them? Was she waiting for them to do something (like touch someone's car) and call the police? WHY was she staring at them?? Eventually, the boys ran off, and my friend walked to her car. But the incident rattled her. We chatted about how that woman could be an educator. She could work in one of our local schools. She could be spending 6-7 hours a day with kids just like them, and yet still look at them like criminals outside of the school building. That situation could have ended the same way it ended for Tamir Rice, Emmett Till, Trayvon Martin, and countless other young Black boys. Even worse, that could've been one of our boys.


Dr. Howard wrote a short, but powerful piece about how we, as a society discuss Black boys called "STOP TALKING IN CODE: CALL THEM BLACK BOYS." Check it out and tell me what you think. How do we collectively change the narrative for our Black boys, especially in education?


Here, at One Annapolis, we are working towards breaking these generational curses and building a new legacy for our children. Want to join the movement? Email me at info@oneannapolis.org.


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