I would never have discovered my son’s little mishap, or it would have taken me much longer to find out, had the evidence not tumbled from his pocket, clattering onto the pavement as we hurried across the parking lot.
It was a pack of Mentos.
I hadn’t even bought Mentos; I was only there to pick up a few Batman shirts for a birthday celebration we were already running late to.
“Did you take those?” I exclaimed, gripping my son’s arm and turning us back toward the store. Oh my goodness! “You did! What were you thinking? You asked me if you could have them, and I said no! So you just took them!? Omigosh, no Chuck E. Cheese’s for you! We are going home!”
“I saw them on the floor, so I thought I could take them,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
“That is complete nonsense, and you know it! You don’t take things from a store unless you’ve paid for them! Do you understand?” I shouted, my heart racing. “If you do this as a teenager—when you’re tall and built—Mama won’t be able to help you. Do you understand?”
Of course, he didn’t. How could he grasp the weight of my words at that age?
I stormed into Old Navy, dragging my son and his little sister behind me. I wore a mask of anger and humiliation as I approached the cashier. “We took this by mistake,” I said, placing the stolen candy on the counter.
The cashier looked puzzled but nodded as we exited. We ended up going to Chuck E. Cheese’s anyway, as I couldn’t let my daughter suffer for her brother’s mistake. Besides, we were already there. However, I made him sit alone in a time-out for the first hour, delaying any fun for him. And because it takes a village of observant friends who love to share advice, I decided that after the party, he would have to return to Old Navy to confess to the security guard and the store manager.
With tears in his eyes, he could barely meet their gaze. The two young white men, probably in their thirties, looked at him with such sympathy that it was as if they wanted to apologize to this innocent little boy who had made a typical childhood error—a test of boundaries gone wrong. He meant no harm!
I chatted with mom friends of mine, both black and white, who shared stories of their own childhood mischief. They all agreed I handled it correctly by giving him a time-out, making him return the candy, and restricting his playtime after school for a few days. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was overreacting, worrying about consequences that might not even come to pass.
In a different reality, I could dismiss my anger, anxiety, and fear. But I knew that wasn’t the case. The stakes are higher for children of color. Just the other day, a friend shared a story about her “chubby white teenage nephew” who was caught stealing from a store and faced no repercussions. Would the outcome have been the same for a child with darker skin?
All I could envision was my son, tall and strong at 15, facing a store owner or manager who might insist on pressing charges for a petty crime, turning a minor error into a devastating situation. Instead of being furious with my sweet little boy for a common childhood mistake deserving of parental guidance, I should have been enraged by the systemic issues we face.
How is it that 50 years after Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s passing, black parents still lie awake at night, knowing their children are judged by the color of their skin rather than the content of their character? How is it that black parents continue to have “the talk” with their sons, understanding that one wrong move could lead to life-altering consequences?
And why is it that most white mothers are free from such worries?
As a parent, I’ve encountered countless moments of exhaustion, stress, and sheer madness. But navigating a world rife with double standards has taken my anxiety to a whole new level. I felt unhinged, especially realizing this was just the beginning.
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In summary, navigating the complexities of parenting a child of color in today’s society can be overwhelming. The fear of systemic bias and the potential consequences of minor mistakes create a unique and often distressing experience for parents.
Keyphrase: Parenting challenges for children of color
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