Justice does not exist for the darker brother. Not only will Tamir Rice never live to see adulthood, and reach his fullest potential; his killer walks free. His killer, judge, and jury are white-supremacy. White-supremacy determines who lives, who dies, and who pays the price. I don't have children, but it is a possibility that one day I will. When I imagine my future children I see brown skin and curly hair. I see Black children. I desire Black children. Children who look like me. Children who embody the origin of man. Children who were born in Africa and survived the middle passage. Children who see themselves when they read a picture book about the Egyptian pyramids. Children whose skin is thirsty for shea and coco butter. Children who will be taught to love their melanin. Black children. But white-supremacy kills Black children.
While I make every attempt to not condemn myself when I have a thought I don't like, I felt deep shame when I thought to myself, "maybe if my future son is White his risk of being killed will greatly decrease." I allowed my mind to wander down that line of thought. If I have children with a White man (very white, maybe Scandinavian) the white genes will be dominant enough for him to pass as white. I've never considered choosing a life partner based on the potential race of my future children. I've just thought "I prefer Black men, but I'll marry whomever I fall in love with and want to commit to" and I've always thought my children will be Black regardless. Perhaps a bit lighter, perhaps a bit darker, but Black none the less. While I wouldn't look forward to having tough conversations with my children about police brutality, or the school to prison pipeline, I am prepared to have those discussions.
If my children were White those conversations would either be hypothetical or in relation to the experiences/concerns of their Black mother; but they would be safe. I shouldn't have to move to Sweden and find a blond man to marry in order to ensure the safety of my future children. I want my Black children have the safety and security of their White peers. I want white-supremacy overthrown and this nation to see a revolution that liberates Black and brown bodies. I want to hold on to the dream of my Black children. They have places to go, people to meet, experiences to have, and things to learn; those things can't happen if my children are White. I want to sing "I am not my hair" by India Arie at the top of my lungs through the tears during a detangling session. I want to share, lotion, and chap stick, and the beauty of Blackness with my children. Maybe my son will be White, but I'm going to keep hoping he will be Black.