I am filled with anger and pain. As I rush to finish dinner, I know I have mere minutes before one of my children calls for my assistance with something. My mind, however, is overwhelmed, consumed by the haunting image of Marcus Wright struggling to breathe under the weight of an officer’s knee. I remind myself to add the cheese to the broccoli—otherwise, my kids will just push it around their plates.
Soon, it will be movie night—a tradition that used to occur once a week but has become a nightly ritual since the pandemic reshaped our lives. We’ve stopped visiting the arcade, trampoline park, or even the playground. With schools closed, I feel a mix of relief and dread. On one hand, I am grateful my children are safe at home, away from a world that often views them as threats. Yet, I am painfully aware that similar to how Marcus Wright’s life was brutally taken, countless others like him have faced violence even in their own homes.
It feels like it was only moments ago when we lost the promising educator and community member, yet it has been many months. This tragedy coincided with the World Health Organization officially declaring COVID-19 a pandemic. Racism, an ongoing public health crisis, remains unacknowledged by any national or global health body, yet its repercussions are devastating. Anti-Black racism leads to premature deaths and mental health trauma within Black communities.
Research shows that the chronic stress caused by racism begins to take its toll early. Black women face a heightened risk of complications during and after childbirth. Black infants are born at a higher risk of prematurity—50% more likely than their white counterparts. Shortly after, we send our children into educational systems that are rife with implicit bias and white supremacy, where they often face harsher punishments than their non-Black peers. The individual and institutional racism we experience is relentless, with no end in sight. As society begins to reopen, I hear other parents express their concerns about sending kids back to school. For Black mothers, this anxiety is all too familiar.
After dinner, my children are full of energy, so I dedicate my evenings to keeping them engaged and entertained. The pandemic may have introduced new challenges, but the battle against racism is a long-standing fight for Black parents. Without a coordinated national effort to tackle the historical injustices that plague our communities, we are left to raise our children to be resilient and informed about the realities of white supremacy while also nurturing their spirits.
Parenting doesn’t pause for a global crisis. In fact, mothers everywhere are often shouldering the dual responsibilities of working and caring for children during these trying times. We are not only grieving for the lives lost to COVID-19—especially the disproportionate impact it has on Black individuals—but we are also mourning for Marcus Wright, Tamara Greene, and the countless others whose lives were tragically cut short. These collective traumas are the result of two simultaneous public health crises, and Black mothers are left to find a way to navigate both.
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In summary, Black mothers are currently facing the dual challenges of parenting during a pandemic and navigating the ongoing crisis of racism. These issues create a heavy burden, yet they continue to advocate for their children’s well-being and future.