Have you ever been in a situation where you were having a conversation with someone who said something to you that set you on fire?  If you were raised in the Christian and Baptist faith, then you know what I am talking about.  In the Baptist faith we often refer to being “convicted”, or being set on fire, when someone calls you on something you have done.

I had an incident happen to me earlier today during a meeting with someone who was listening to my ideas about hosting a mother/daughter forum.  I shared with her some of my personal journey with my own daughter and why I thought this topic is so important.  As I spoke with passion about the importance of the role of mothers in their daughter’s lives she pointed out to me that although I spoke about my daughter I did not speak very much about my son.  I had mentioned to her at the outset of our meeting that I had a son, but something in my conversation caused her to wonder about my affection towards him. I responded that since our meeting was about women, I did not see the relevance of him to the conversation at hand.

I left the meeting and made the drive back home and during that thirty minute drive, I thought about what the woman had said to me and it was then that the fire began.  I cannot tell you how sorrowful I was that I had communicated in some way that my son was of any less value to me than my daughter.  I then asked myself if perhaps this was something I did regularly without realizing it and if so had this in some way caused him any pain.

This led me to also consider the number of young black men who each day feel that they are not significant and whose value goes unrecognized. I thought about the assault our young men have to deal with on a daily basis and the difficulty they have in propping themselves up in a society who sees them as an afterthought.  What mad me most sad however, is the fact that I, had also contributed to that assault in my own unintentional way.

My son is the eldest of my two children and at least in my mind, he is the first gift that was given to me as a mother.  I have watched this young man grow into someone who is intelligent, articulate, engaging and not to mention very handsome. Unlike his sister, he alone has challenged me to reach higher than my arms can stretch and he beats my drum louder that anyone I know. And in my own mind, although I love my children differently, as they are very different people, when it comes to how much, I love them both the same.

I think that perhaps my glossing over him has a lot to do with how much I respect his strength and ability to stand on his own.  I am reminded however, that even the strongest structures are strong only because they have consistent support.  Having said that, I must make a greater effort to make sure he knows that I do support him.

For all the mothers out there who sometimes forget to support the young men, or old men in your lives, remember, they need you.  And to the young women, call up a brother or friend of a brother and let him know how much you appreciate the fact that they are here.

We can not always know what others need but we can be certain that others need us.  Nothing solid gets that way without a lot of good stuff being poured into it.

To my son, you are the best!  I know I say this to you in private as often as I am reminded, but today I wanted to say so, so others would know how much this black woman love and appreciate you.

Deigratia,

Bonnie McDaniel – Life That Works, copyright March 1, 2010