The Black Mother🌹

 

I awakened this morning with my mommy on my mind. You probably did too because Mother’s Day is upon us. And if you are fortunate to have her still here in the Earth with you—it’s likely you were thinking of how you will celebrate her this weekend.

I, on the other hand, woke up with my mother on my mind because yesterday—in one day, I had three different men— very successful men share with me that their mom’s were 90+ and they were planning to celebrate, and honor her on Mother’s Day. And with each of these individual’s expressions about their moms; I expressed my awe and sentiments of “How blessed they are to still have their moms.” And simultaneously, my inner thoughts vacillated between awe for them, and yet, thoughts of how my mom could have and would have likely been the same age today had my father not abused her. I then found myself feeling like there was a thought bubble above my head; thinking about Tina Turner and Cicely Tyson because recently revisiting and reading their biographies are still fresh in my mind—on my heart even. I wondered why—why were these amazing, beautiful, talented, brilliant women abused—treated so vile by these men? And still they accomplished incredible success, and maintained such tender and loving hearts. Unlike Tina, my mother didn’t survive the mortifying abuse and mistreatment. Unlike Cicely, my mother didn’t have the seemingly divine fate that would have guided her above and out of the horrific mishandling of her—-inevitably leading to her demise. 

Then I thought of my own—though short-lived marriage, riddled with mistreatment and abuse. And no need to distinguish the verbal from the physical because they are equally dehumanizing. But the common thread is that amazing, spiritual, beautiful, talented, and brilliance all seems to be a common thread with these women—-prevalent in our being as if intertwined with the melanin in our skin—seemingly synonymous with each other—-because they are.    

That said, Anna Malaika Tubbs has forever changed my ideas of Black motherhood. I have always known or been mindful of the obvious reality that the womanhood and motherhood experience for Black women is a vastly different experience in the United States, than that for a White woman. And one of the most notable differences is that of our parenting styles and techniques. But in her book, “The Three Mothers”, Tubbs draws a direct line from Black womanhood in this county to Black Motherhood—and for this amazing commentary; I am extremely grateful to her and forever changed. So, several references in this blog will be made and are a result of what she has imparted to me. 

I understand that so much of what Black moms had in their parenting tool boxes were home-grown, organic, and in most cases sparse resources given the historic and systemic barriers imposed on them. Albeit racism, educational disparities, income disparities, housing, societal, community, etc. Black women—mothers have contended with obstruction to their very existence, that was so far beyond my knowing, even having my own notable struggles—-the depth and profundity of obstruction to our existence was out of my grasp until now.  

So, if you would just allow me a bit more of your time and patience, so that I can share with you a few of things imparted to me before we land with this blog:

Mrs. Tubbs took me on this journey with every page—every chapter. She shares, informs, and educates her reader in ways big and small, simplistic and profound.

It is now in clearer view for me that, Black women becoming mothers has clearly had paradoxal implications here in these United States of America. To that end:

In order to increase the chattel for her slave-owner—she was raped, as a child slave—molested to be impregnated in order to provide more enslaved children—more “property” for her slave-owner.

“Gynecological practices by J. Marion Sims established through the barbaric, torment of practicing what would become known as the Cesarean-Section or C-Section technique on enslaved women by slicing their vaginal tissue—while she was forcibly held down, and denied any anesthesia.  Introducing this C-Section procedure to the United States; Francois Marie Prevost refined the procedure by cutting open the abdomens of slave women while they were in labor.” It is also important to make note that the Cesarean-Section may also have some historical roots in Roman Culture and named for Julius Caesar. But like most dark history---it’s likely whitewashed.

May 19, 1918— just days following what we now celebrate as Mother’s Day, Mary Turner a 21 year old was 8 months pregnant when she was abducted, by an angry mob, lynched, burned, and her baby literally cut out from her womb falling to its death. All for being vocal and defending her Black husband.

So, being or becoming a Black mother has either benefited, terrified, or intimidated Whites in the historical contents of this country. And it is evident that it is still what perpetuates the slaughtering of our Black children in this country today. 

Theodore Roosevelt promoted “race purity”, and stoked the fears of White men and White women in this country—telling them that if they don’t keep up with women of color—Black women more specifically—that they would be complicit in the elimination of their race. The embers of this fear of Blacks in this country and of Black women bringing forth life; still burns today; hence the current preoccupation or concern about the “declining birthrate.”

In her book, “The Three Mothers”, Tubbs quotes a quote from, “An Anonymous White Woman” that I will abbreviate: “[Negro Woman] are the greatest menace possible to the moral life of any community where they live. And they are evidently the chief instruments of the degradation of the men of their own race.

So, starting at the lower-rungs with me and working my way up with some examples—although the list is otherwise endless:

This would imply that my Black, 39 year-old, college educated/graduate, head of his class, and present, active father is a result of something outside of the norm of me being a “menace to my community, degradation of my son, and inability to conduct a moral life”;

James Baldwin’s mother, Martin Luther King’s mother, Malcolm X’s mother, Eric Dyson’s mother; Cornel West’s mother, Eddie Glaude Jr.’s mother; Denzel Washington’s mother, Chadwick Boseman’s mother; Rev. Al Sharpton’s mother, John Lewis’s mother; Elijah Cumminings’ mother; Steve Harvey’s mother; Dr. Jason Johnson’s mother; Shomari Stone’s mother; Frederick Douglass’ mother are the paradoxical influence, power, and mystical, seemingly magical power that defy and debunk this hateful, dehumanizing rhetoric that is still spewed and perpetuated about Black women and Black mothers today.

Nevertheless, it is true that Black mothers hurl an enormous, unexplainable power that pushes through the obstruction and hateful racism that has befallen upon them in this country—a spiritual force that has seemingly haunted and blessed them simultaneously. It has allowed her the ability to survive the barbaric savagery forced upon her body, soul, and mind—she has endured, fallen, bounced back, recovered from all types of strongholds, left legacies all for the love and life of her children. She has left a love so powerful that her sons are calling on her as they are being suffocated under the knee of the oppressive, suffocation of hate, racism, and fear of her Black child’s existence. 

So while the three mothers of Martin, Malcolm, and James are indeed phenomenal, samplings of extraordinary mothers having brought forth extraordinary men and women—there are too many to count that have done the same. 

Finally, what has become crystallized for me as I have explored the lives of Black women is that, Black women—from the beginning of time—have exuded, bestowed, protected, inoculated, and covered anything and anyone that they loved with love itself. The measures of being deserving or not, has not kept her from offering love unselfishly. Love to the Black woman is offered like a balm for the wounded—medicine for the sick. She loves organically, gives generously, and will oftentimes sacrifice—lay her life on the line for anything she loves albeit person or principle.

So my call to action for all of us is that we honor their legacies. Honor the blood that so many Black mother’s and women have poured out—into this American soil—she is all of us—she is all of our mothers’ because her presence, purpose, and power remains immutable!

 

Someone asked me recently, “Do you think of your mom often?” I guess contemplating how young I was when she died. “Absolutely! I replied—every single, solitary day—I think of her. I look at her picture which is strategically placed so I see her face when I awaken ... I still seek her approval.” Mothers are soul-ties—-they can never die—their souls reverberate through time and space. 

So, love on your mothers if they are still here in physical form. Listen for their souls if they have spirit transformed because either way—-she remains yours to love!

Happy Mother’s Day—whether you have given physical birth or not because mothering is an act of Love and Love is our superpower. 🌹

Copyright © 2021 by Christie Y. Shaw