I somehow hoped you would be 18 or maybe 16 when I had to
write this letter to you, but you are 10! After a long few years of explaining
to you why Black boys are being killed by policy and neighbors, with no
justice, 4, 6 or 8 years from now may be too late. After more than a year of tears rolling down
my face and questions whirling in your mind, yes, 4, 6 or 8 years from now may
be too late!
I also thought this letter would be private, and in many
ways it is, but in the end there are many other Black, Brown and other boys
that need to read and hear these words.
In the past few years, if not during your entire young life,
we have educated you to treat all people with kindness, compassion and respect,
regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, income, orientation and any other way
they may appear or choose to exist in this world. Your compassionate soul is what I love most
about you and there are things that can even erode that state of being. Our
mindfulness and yoga practice is not just to ensure your spiritual peace, but
to also guard you against the reactions that could one day prove to fateful.
I have also began to walk you through this countries ugly
history with race and violence, in particular with African-American’s, Blacks,
Coloreds, Negroes… We have also
discussed discrimination against people from Mexico, where your mother is from
and the ugly backlash in this country against immigrants from Latin
America. It is ironic that this history
exist in the land of liberty, since we are the backs that much of this country
was built on. Free Black labor during slavery allowed for the growth of wealth
in this country that is still supported by the exploitation of immigrants
through immoral labor practices.
I watched your eyes and listened to your reaction as we
watched, Eyes on the Prize and the Roots mini-series these last few years,
as you declared the lack of fairness and cruelty inherent in these historic lessons.
This began to show you the path of violence pointed at those of African descent
in this country; from our dragging across the Atlantic in chains, through
slavery, down the river of Jim Crow, up the mountain of segregation, through
the alleys of ghettos and now firmly rooted in economic, social and
psychological imprisonment. This imprisonment shows a brighter path to prison
for young Black men than to college. It supports the development of the prison
industrial complex that is keeping us in cages, while exploiting the labor of
those incarcerated and reducing support for educational achievement.
Much of our society is built on violence and often
maintained by violence. Many men and women serve bravely in our arm forces, as
did two of your great-grandfathers in World War II, and many other family
members. However, we continue to maintain the perceived security of our country
through acts of violence that then permeates throughout our society.
Unfortunately, the right to have a gun is more sacred than the right to love
much too often in this country.
We are not immune to violence in our own family. Violence
has run through our family. Our family has witnessed violence in all its forms.
Some at the hands of others and some aimed at each other. It is not a pretty
part of our history. The pressure cooker this society has created has seen
murder, domestic violence, rape, war, suicide, prostitution, drug addiction,
psychological challenges and others descend into our lives. As I stood
delivering the eulogy last year at your great-grandmother’s funeral, I looked
into the eyes of the many generations that sat before me. I saw not only our
family’s ugly history, but also the ugly history of this country. I thought as we said goodbye to our matriarch,
how amazing it was for her to live 94 years, and touched a century of history,
always striving to heal the pain and suffering of all that came after her. In that room there were people that had
fought each other, pointed guns at one another, sat behind prison walls and
been committed to mental health institutions. I looked at your sister and you
and as I observed your innocence, I hoped with all my being that neither of you
would ever experience such pain.
These ills in our family, in our society are tied to the
structures and systems that many cannot see and want to ignore. They have created mental health and other
challenges that have contributed to these acts of self-hatred and destruction.
As I have done genealogical research on our family, which you have shown
amazing interest, I have uncovered violence tied to slavery, Jim Crow and in
the home. We are not and should not remain imprisoned by the systems of the
past.
In the past few years as each shooting of young
African-American men emerges, I always think of you and what it will be like
for you as you enter the world as a young man. The killings without due justice
for so many is painful, it makes me almost nostalgic for the “driving while
Black” periods of my life, which have not completely withered away and lead to
often to the apprehension Black and Brown men.
- Trayvon Martin -17
- Michael Brown - 18
- Tamir Rice - 12
- Andy Lopez – 13
- Countless others
You have unfortunately seen in person during our trips to
Los Angeles how racial profiling works. After our last trip to Los Angeles, you
mentioned to me that this was the first time in a while we did not get pulled
over by the police. What I did not mention to you is that growing up in and
around Los Angeles my friends and I accepted this reality as a part of our
lives. We were always prepared to be pulled over and asked where we live and
what we were doing in the community, though the officers often already new
us. In one six-month period when I was 18-19,
I was pulled over at least 30 times by police.
On at least two occasions the officers that pulled me over,
had guns drawn and with one false move I might have been on a list of young
Black men killed. On many occasions, I was dragged from my car, not knowing
whether I was going to live or die in that moment. Hands raised, heart racing,
I knew that one flinch would leave me locked up, wounded or dead. This is
something that has never left me. There is not a moment, even now, as I work in
partnership with local law enforcement to make our communities a brighter,
safer and more vibrant place to live that the appearance of a police car near
me does not instill a sense of safety, it instills fear. Not knowing whether they
see Charles the community leader and father or just another Black man that they
don’t mind turning into a statistic.
I think of you at this time, whether you are in the car or
not and that day we hand you your first set of car keys. I realize I have to
start the lessons on how you must hold your hands and talk when police or other
law enforcement officer approaches, where you can and cannot be and at what
times, how you must dress to reduce suspicion, how you must potentially
compromise you out of fear.
As a father you only want to protect your children and provide
them with the tools needed to survive in an all too dangerous society. It does
not matter if we are talking about the ills of gangs and drugs, which remnants
still exist in our neighborhood or the option of moving to a suburb where the
color of your skin may inspire someone to see you as a threat and react.
I also watch the news and see Brown babies that have escaped
war and drugs and poverty in other countries, detained and sent back to places
where their lives are threatened. They are not being given the same value in
our society as others that have arrived on these shores from the claws of
religious, economic, ethnic and other forms of persecution. I think about your
mom’s families proud farm worker tradition that provided for a strong family
and wonder what burden you carry being both Black and Brown and how you will
choose to travel through our country when you represent two of the often most
despised individuals on our society, Black and Brown Boys.
I don’t want you to carry this burden
that is why we raise you with a strong sense of knowledge of your past and
present conditions, while instilling you with pride and knowing your inherent
value and beauty in this world. You are not the perceived problem you so
intently listened to on public radio, as they discussed how Black and Brown
boys are perceived in schools, you are the kind and caring young man that all
praise each day. There is no need for you to carry this burden of Black and
Brown in this society, and I will continue to fight with love in my heart and
in as many places and spaces so that you and so many others do not have to
carry this burden. The progress and
subsequent gains made by the presence of famous individuals like Martin Luther
King Jr., Maya Angelou, Malcolm X, Rosa Parks, James Baldwin, Cesar Chavez and
Barack Obama are so much more important in our lives, than the itchy trigger fingers
and swinging batons of the Bull Connor’s of the world.
But in the end the optimist in me sees a different fate for
you, one not wrapped in violence and hate, but one bundled with strength and
love. One where the teachings of compassion that our family never strays far
from, even in the darkest moments, will continue to guide your life as you
successfully navigate the many challenges this society may have in store from
you. In the end, you are my beautiful, brilliant, compassionate and loving son
who deserves to and will live a life full of light and face each challenge with
love. As history has taught us, hatred and violence never achieves anything and
in all spaces I hope you walk down a path of love and compassion. For no enemy has ever made a friend through
hate.
Love,Daddy
Charles L. Mason, Jr.
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