“The violence we instill in our sons while teaching them to ‘be men’ is the very same violence that keeps us awake at night worrying about our daughters.” This quote struck a chord with me the first time I encountered it. Its truth resonates deeply.
We’ve all seen images of “protective” fathers waiting on the porch as their daughters head out on dates or to prom, often proudly brandishing a rifle. For some, this display is seen as a lighthearted joke or a demonstration of love. But for me, it symbolizes the disturbing normalization of violence and toxic masculinity. As a conscious Black mother raising both a son and a daughter, I cannot accept this portrayal in any guise.
My frustration runs particularly deep because I have a son. The mere thought of anyone approaching him with a weapon fills me with disgust and dread. This mental image alone triggers a protective instinct in me. Coupled with the stories of Black boys facing violence, I feel an overwhelming rage. Emmett Till’s story is a haunting example. At just 14, he was brutally kidnapped and murdered, falsely accused of whistling at a white woman. This tragic event underscores the societal value placed on white womanhood over the lives of Black boys. I specifically call out white women, as history has shown that Black women like myself have often been regarded as community property.
Throughout history, fathers of color have tried to replicate the protective roles that white fathers have played for their children, yet women of color, particularly Black women, haven’t received the same level of security or recognition. The disparity is evident not only at home but also in the legal system, where protection often feels absent.
As I contemplate the vulnerability of my daughter and the historical negligence of Black girls within the justice system, I view the image of “well-meaning” fathers with guns through a different lens. While some may see it as a sign of love, I perceive it as a perpetuation of violence and harmful masculinity. These men have learned that aggression is a means to achieve their goals, and they will likely instill these lessons in their sons. What’s to stop them from transmitting this dangerous mentality to my daughter?
Men who attempt to exert control over their daughters often extend that mindset to their wives as well. This sense of ownership originates from patriarchal messages that deem women incapable of making their own decisions.
For Black women, these experiences are compounded. They are often conditioned to feel as if they belong to their fathers, partners, and society rather than to themselves. It wasn’t until decades later that the public recognized Emmett Till’s innocence, but that does little to change the past. We cannot undo the pain he and his family endured or the broader impact on the Black community. His story serves as a reminder of how toxic masculinity and the misguided belief in the need to “protect” women frequently exclude marginalized voices. When you mix in racism, it amplifies the fears of a Black mother.
Parents should feel assured that they have raised children capable of critical thinking and healthy relationship choices. I want my children to know that I am here to support them when they face challenges, but it is not my role to make decisions for them.
I do not want my daughter to rely on a weapon for protection; I desire for her to be treated with respect and to have equal opportunities for success, regardless of her relationship status. I want my son to grow in an environment devoid of violent messages, where he can form relationships without fear of being misjudged or harmed.
Violence only breeds trauma, and no partner is worth the long-term repercussions of a gun being pointed at my son. The social media posts that glorify fathers with shotguns are not amusing; they highlight some of the darkest aspects of our culture and serve as a reminder that male dominance can lead to devastating consequences.
Women should feel secure regardless of their proximity to men, and young boys should not have to fear that their first date could turn into a nightmare.
I often reflect on these issues, but one thing is clear: My daughter and son would thrive in a world where there is more equality, less violence, and a reduction in discrimination—far more than any “protection” a firearm could provide. For more insights on navigating this complex world, check out our other blog posts, including information on home insemination kits and the importance of financial literacy.
In summary, as a mother of Black children, I grapple with the fear that arises from the intersection of toxic masculinity, racism, and societal norms. My desire is for my children to grow in a world free from violence and discrimination, where they can build healthy relationships grounded in respect and equality.