Protecting Our Black Daughters
The heat is intense this time of the year in the valley. Although I’ve become accustomed to it, it still shocks my system from time to time. The summer months shift my routine a bit— it’s just too hot to do anything outside. Instead of long walks to clear my mind in the morning, I settle for intense rides on my peloton bike. This morning, I found myself in a reflective mood as I peddled. I recounted the events of the past few days; I couldn’t seem to shake Carlee Russell’s story. It’s been at the forefront of my mind. I tossed and turned the night before; I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’m glad she’s been found safe, but there are many more who haven’t been brought home. It’s gut-wrenching.
In just a few short weeks, my beautiful little girl will be in my arms. My heart melts when I think of fatherhood. It’s an honor to father a little Black girl. I’ve done my best to prepare for this new journey. The elders in my life remind me that I’ll never quite be ready no matter what I do to prepare. Parenthood is an evolutionary experience. It’s surreal when I think about it sometimes. I often imagine playing with her. I wonder what our talks will be like as she grows up. There are days, like today when my joy is temporarily eclipsed by anxiety: the anxiety I bet most Black fathers feel when they think about the world their daughters will have to live in. When I think of what Black women face today, I feel a deep sense of anger and discomfort. I’m angry that our society does not care about our Black women and children.
I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my family; it’s a huge responsibility that I don’t take lightly. I’m not afraid to die for my family if it ever came to it. It’s our responsibility as men and fathers to do what we must to ensure the safety of our homes. This includes protecting our daughters from predators, dangerous family members, neighbors, and other forces that wish to harm to our daughters. We cannot afford to be asleep at the wheel.
On a daily basis, I’m confronted with social media posts from grief-stricken parents of missing Black girls who long for their return. Why must our world be so cruel and cold? As a father, I can’t fathom the thought of something happening to my little girl. Something has to change today. There are too many missing women and children out there. The world collectively doesn’t care about us, but we need to.