When you are a child, you think you know it all. You believe that you understand the world that we live in. You may or may not believe that most people are good, but have the potential to do bad things. As you get older, sometimes your views change because of experiences or you've had a chance to understand different points of view.
My husband is a black man in America. Is he a gang banger? No. Has he ever done drugs or gone to jail? No. Sure, he has broken the law, but it's the same typical lawbreaking that most of us do. You know what he has done? He has loved wholeheartedly, cared for other people's animals, and always been there with a helping hand. Those details are things most people don't know. How could they? They don't know him.
My husband is a go lucky, comic lover, gaming type of guy. He knows hardship. Hardship is growing up in the ghetto of inner city Philadelphia. It's learning to run fast to avoid trouble. It is learning to fight so you don't get beat up everyday. It is knowing that the kid next to you in class probably won't eat dinner, but you'll be able to have seconds. Watching people participate in shady dealings is nothing surprising. Being followed by store owners was a normal part of life. He experienced hate early on in life. As a young child, my husband saw some pretty rough things, but he decided not to be a statistic.
Recently, my husband and I traveled to New York. My husband was extremely worried about going and kept expressing that he hoped the protesting was over. I was pretty surprised that he wanted the protests to end. He was not a fan of the Eric Garner verdict or of some other incidents that had taken place. I remember us discussing how people needed to stand up for what's right even if that meant protesting. I sat there wondering, what's changed? Fear. It was pure fear that made my husband want the protests to end.
We were sitting on the couch catching up on shows when he offers me his work code. He begins to tell me what to do in the event that he's addressed. I'm pretty sure I look horrified in that moment. I could only utter, "You're joking, right?" He was not joking at all. My husband proceeded to show me videos of brutality. If he were to get arrested, I was to immediately take all of his belongings. In order for him to maintain his position at work, I would have had to call a number and enter a code. All of this was too much. "What would you possibly get arrested for?" I asked. He looked me dead in the face and simply said, "For being a young black man in America." The sad thing is with everything going on, he was absolutely right. I'm happy to say that New York was a blast and neither of us was arrested.
Recent events have made it so I don't understand my husband. I get he's scared, but how can I truly understand that? I can't because I am not a black man. I don't worry that as I'm walking down a busy street that someone will falsely accuse me of a crime. I don't worry that while peacefully protesting, I'll be singled out and injured. Every time I see police sirens behind me, I don't become terrified that I might go to jail or be unfairly harassed.
When I take the time to think about how afraid my husband is, I feel sad. I feel sad that he doesn't get to truly be comfortable in his own skin wherever he goes. All I can do is pray & hope that he doesn't have to deal with any of his fears.
