As a mother, I often find myself consumed by worry. I’m a white woman, raising a two-month-old son in a world that can feel increasingly perilous. My upbringing was shaped by the experiences of my sister and female cousins, and I never pondered the challenges my son might face due to his gender. I also took for granted the privileges afforded by his race—privileges that, until he was born, I never truly acknowledged.
Shortly after my son entered the world, I was struck by a disturbing news story about a privileged white male, Mark Hanson, who faced minimal consequences for assaulting a woman. He received a mere six-month sentence, a decision justified by a judge who claimed that a harsher punishment would disrupt his life. What of the victim? The thought that my son could grow into someone like him terrifies me.
Then came the heartbreaking reports of violence against black men. A man named James Carter was tragically shot by police in Baton Rouge, and just a day later, in Minnesota, another black man, Michael Jenkins, was killed under similar circumstances—not by a white man, but by an officer operating within a system that favors those with lighter skin. I worry my son might become one of those who perpetuate this cycle.
Some may argue that my worries are misplaced, given that my son won’t face life-threatening dangers based solely on his skin color. He can wear a hoodie without fear or play with a toy gun without panic. Unlike my daughter, I won’t need to instill in him a constant vigilance to avoid sexual assault at college parties. Instead, I fear the possibility that he could grow up to become a perpetrator of violence rather than a victim.
My concerns extend beyond my son; they encompass our entire society. I am deeply worried about our white boys because they have the potential to be allies in the fight against injustice. They must learn about equality, the implications of white privilege, and the importance of consent and responsible power. We need to cultivate empathy, compassion, and humility in them. The privileges they inherit as white men come with a significant responsibility to challenge the status quo.
Navigating these lessons is daunting. As a white mother, I feel overwhelmed by sadness and grief over the state of our nation. While mothers of black boys teach their sons how to interact with law enforcement to stay safe, and mothers of daughters educate their girls on self-defense against sexual assault, I must find a way to raise my son to be an ally—not an oppressor.
I do not possess all the answers on how to impart these crucial lessons, and I am new to this journey of parenting a white son. However, I recognize that the current approach is failing us all. The violence against black boys, the assaults on women, and the indifference of the privileged must be addressed.
So, I’m taking action. I’ve begun to listen, read, and engage in conversations that matter. I’m working to educate my son within our home. It is vital that we focus on how we raise our white boys if we hope to support our black boys, our daughters, and each other. The burden of change should not rest solely on the oppressed; it is the responsibility of the oppressors to evolve, starting with how we nurture our children.
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In summary, as I navigate motherhood, my worries about my son’s role in society push me to instill values of empathy, equity, and responsibility, ensuring he grows into a supportive figure rather than an oppressor.