What does a father tell his sons in an era where we are eye-witness
to policemen shooting unarmed black folks in their backs, in their cars,
in broad daylight, on front lawns—seemingly every week?
I've looked into the dismayed, angry eyes of my 22-year-old son as he wrestles with the impression that his life is valued less than a dog's in America. It is a horrible, horrible feeling. It puts our children in a battle for their souls and their sanity.
#BlackLivesMatter is a fight for their right to
exist. That's why I don't care if they occasionally make mistakes or are
impolite in their attempts to prevent murder.
My son is intelligent, good looking, and
strong-willed, so when he asks me to make sense of this, I can't tell
him something trite or stupid. I tell him the truth:
You and your generation are the ones who will ultimately put an end to this.
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