
My heart stops when I pull up next to a police car. It doesn’t matter that my hands are visible, that my inspection is up to date, and that I’ve come to a complete stop. None of that matters, my ears still feel clogged, and my palms grip the wheel tighter. I say a panicked prayer.
There’s never a day that I don’t catch a snippet of anxiety climbing up my spine when my husband leaves the house. I would be lying if I said I don’t beg him to stay at home when night falls. I’m constantly nagging my brothers to let me know when they make it home. I call my dad nervously, “just to check in.”
I am anxious. I carry this heavy burden; I assume this brown skin. I am always nervous. And I wonder now how I can teach my daughter to live freely. I look at her 3-year-old smile and wonder how long it will remain pure. I know there will come a day when she realizes that she carries the same burdened brown skin that I do.
I don’t know what I will tell her. I am a mental health provider; I hold a master’s degree in psychology. I understand all the theories, counseling techniques and know all the assessments. But nothing can prepare me to explain to my daughter that she will look over her shoulder the rest of her life. Nothing can help me tell her that this world doesn’t love her as much as I do.
A pending doom follows me everywhere I go. I used to find myself hoping that she would never know this feeling. But I know that truth. Too many questionable deaths have plagued my lifetime: Trayvon Martin, Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd, and Breonna Taylor.
I don’t hope anymore. The deaths of black people seem inevitable now. Instead, I pray that she won’t be the next hashtag. I pray that she will never know the name on a protester’s sign. I selfishly pray that the next mother’s tears won’t be mine.
—
You Might Also Like These From The Good Men Project
—
Shutterstock image





What a powerful and well written work. This a very hard and heartbreaking reality for black men. The way she expressed her concern should be read by all people and especially our sworn to protect community.
Thank you for your very heartfelt expression from a women of color.
I am beyond proud of this young lady. She has hit it spot on and feel her heart. I am not only a woman of color but I also walk in the same roles of a
Wife, mother, sister, aunt, cousin and a godmother and friend. The fight only continues and the prayers Cannot Ever Stop until Freedom is won.
Thank you for writing this article and I look to read many more. Your success will be over and beyond what you can think.
This article is one that must be read and re-read again for everyone to truly understand, no matter one’s race. Being a black man is scary these days, but being a black woman who weight usually falls on is more than one knows. Beautiful article! Thank you so much. No matter what others say, this is powerful and a portrait of what women of color face.
Well said, Son! As a wife and mother when my husband, who is 6’4″, 250 pounds and our son, 6′ 2″ 150 pounds, both with graduate degrees leave my home, I pray the Good Lord returns them they way they left. This anxiety of driving while black is a real and ever present danger and reality. Our youngest is learning to drive despite my protest, because I know what he’ll face as a young back male behind a wheel of a car. To ensure his driving experience is safe, we discuss the law, rights of drivers, and standing on the… Read more »
Beautiful article!