Brown boys have a unique dilemma. While girls of color have Dora, Doc McStuffins & Princess Tiana boys have few images that affirm them. What do you do?
Brown boys have a unique dilemma. While girls of color have Dora, Doc McStuffins & Princess Tiana boys have few images that affirm them. What do you do?
On the heels of the Ray Rice domestic abuse scandal, another NFL player has landed in hot water after TMZ Sports published photos of bruises and cuts Minnesota Vikings superstar Adrian Peterson allegedly inflicted on his 4-year-old-son. The New York Times gives more details about the incident: CBS Houston, citing law enforcement sources and police reports, said Peterson beat his 4-year-old son with a tree branch in Spring, Tex., in May, causing cuts and bruises in several areas of the boy’s body, including his back, ankles and legs. Peterson told the police that the punishment was a “whooping” administered after the boy pushed another of Peterson’s children. After the news broke, Peterson’s lawyer released a statement reiterating the player’s love for his son: “Adrian is a loving father who used his judgment as a parent to discipline his son. Adrian has never hidden from what happened.” Despite his lawyer’s statement that Peterson relied on his parental judgment, the NFL star allegedly “felt bad” about beating his son and sent the child’s mother several text messages about the incident. “Got him in the nuts once I noticed. But I felt so bad, n I’m all tearing that butt up when needed!” the message said, according to TMZ. While it’s clear Peterson crossed the line and abused his son, the incident once again ignited a debate over whether or not parents should use corporal punishment as a valid form of discipline for their children. Let me just put it out there: I do not agree with spanking, whooping, or beating children. I think there are other more effective, soul-affirming ways to discipline children than by hitting them. When it comes to disciplining Le Kid, I’ve chosen to keep my hands to myself because, as I found out early on, spanking him didn’t foster any longterm results, but it did make him incredibly angry and resentful. My decision to parent without violence–because make no mistake about it, hitting your child is violent–is a huge departure from how I was raised. Growing up, my mother was quick to turn to “Mr. Leather” when my older brother and I got out of line, but it didn’t teach me not to talk back or not to lie. Instead, getting spanked made me sneakier and afraid to be open with my parents. To this day there are certain things I won’t or don’t tell my parents about, and while I have never talked to my parents crazy, it’s more a function of having basic respect for people than being hit as a kid. The research on spanking is also clear. Scientists have not only found that harsh corporal punishments can alter a child’s brain, but there’s also a link between spanking and increased violence. Moreover, after a studying parents around the world, the American Psychological Association (APA) concluded spanking is just straight up “bad for all kids.” The APA reports: Physical punishment can work momentarily to stop problematic behavior because children are afraid of being hit, but it doesn’t work in the long term and can make children more aggressive. A study published last year in Child Abuse and Neglect revealed an intergenerational cycle of violence in homes where physical punishment was used. Researchers interviewed parents and children age 3 to 7 from more than 100 families. Children who were physically punished were more likely to endorse hitting as a means of resolving their conflicts with peers and siblings. Parents who had experienced frequent physical punishment during their childhood were more likely to believe it was acceptable, and they frequently spanked their children. Their children, in turn, often believed spanking was an appropriate disciplinary method. The negative effects of physical punishment may not become apparent for some time, Gershoff says. “A child doesn’t get spanked and then run out and rob a store,” she says. “There are indirect changes in how the child thinks about things and feels about things.” Despite the overwhelming evidence that spanking can do more harm than good and is an ineffective way to discipline kids, many folks are quick to proclaim: “I was spanked as a child and I turned out fine!” And my response is always, “So what?” We did a lot of things as children that we wouldn’t do to our kids today (uh, hello bike helmets), that still doesn’t make hitting your child right. For instance, I used to ride on my dad’s armrest in his Camaro while he drove around town. A few times, my dad got into minor accidents and I ended up hitting my head on the dashboard and getting a black eye. I’m still here and I survived, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let Le Kid ride on my armrest when we’re in the car. Why? It’s not safe. And neither is spanking. Far too many parents think they’re doing what’s best for their children when they hit them, but end up crossing the line like Peterson. Furthermore, many parents don’t spank because they feel it will help correct their child’s behavior, they spank because they’re frustrated, angry, or embarrassed their kid acted out in public. Another reason many give as to why they spank their children, especially their boys, is the notion that hitting them now will prevent them from getting beat by police later. I can’t tell you how many time I’ve heard parents of color say something to the effect of, “I’d rather beat them than let the police beat them!” Unfortunately, nothing–not spanking, time outs, grounding, or raising our sons “right”–can protect them from being...
Domestic violence is front and center again as news of former Baltimore Ravens star Ray Rice’s indefinite suspension from the NFL made national headlines. And like many things in the media today, this affects our boys. In case you haven’t been following the story, Rice was let go by the Ravens and put on ice by the league after TMZ release surveillance footage of the former player brutally attacking his then-fiancé. In the video, Rice is seen punching Janay Palmer, now his wife, in a hotel elevator. After she is hit, Palmer strikes her head on a railing and is knocked unconscious for several minutes while Rice stares down at her nonchalantly. Although video of Rice dragging Palmer’s lifeless body out of the elevator leaked almost six months ago, the whole ordeal just hit the fan with the release of the video of the actual attack. While many have debated who is to blame for the assault (yes, seriously), others have used this as a teachable moment about domestic violence. The White House chimed in with press secretary Josh Earnest issuing a statement about Rice: “The president is the father of two daughters. And like any American, he believes that domestic violence is contemptible and unacceptable in a civilized society,” the released said. “Hitting a woman is not something a real man does, and that’s true whether or not an act of violence happens in the public eye, or, far too often, behind closed doors. Stopping domestic violence is something that’s bigger than football – and all of us have a responsibility to put a stop to it.” While the statement is a strong rebuke of violence against women, it’s also very questionable. Here’s why: Firstly, the phrase “a real man” is extremely loaded. Notions of masculinity can be awfully limiting, particularly for boys of color, where far too often the definition of “a real man” is one fraught with hyper-masculine, hyper-sexual, and oft times misogynistic ideals. For instance, far too many young boys are taught that “real men” don’t cry, they don’t show weakness, they aren’t vulnerable, and above all else, they’re tough. This has led too many of our boys to assert their “manliness” in unhealthy, and sometimes violent ways. Don’t believe me? Peep this… Last year I had the opportunity to interview Baltimore Ravens defensive star Chris Canty for Essence magazine. Canty works with an awesome initiative called “A Call to Men” that champions healthy manhood and works to put an end to domestic violence. One of the biggest obstacles Canty told me he faced when working with young men is getting them to express an emotion other than anger. “One of the biggest challenges I’ve encountered in my work with young men is teaching them to recognize that anger is a secondary emotion that comes from a place of hurt,” Canty said. “As men, we have a hard time saying we’re hurt. It’s often easier, and even more acceptable, to demonstrate anger. Instead of telling a young man he needs to man up, we must teach him to think differently about what it means to be a man.” My second issue with the White House’s statement on Rice is the notion that men shouldn’t hit women. Don’t get it twisted. I agree that men should not hit women, but not simply because they’re women. Instead, men should not hit anyone–male or female–because, as humans, they deserve respect. The same goes for women as well. Teaching little boys not to hit little girls simply because they are girls reenforces notions of patriarchy and sexism. For those who don’t know, patriarchy is “a system of society or government in which men hold the power and women are largely excluded from it.” In other words, teaching boys not to hit girls solely because of their gender teaches boys that they are superior to girls and can dominate them if they so choose. See the problem? If not, watch Tony Porter, of A Call to Men, break it down (what he says at the 5-min mark is VERY powerful): While many of us teach our sons not to hit girls (because they are girls), I encourage you to take it a step further and teach your boys that they have to respect the basic human rights of others and keep their hands to themselves. Full stop, no matter the person’s gender. Domestic violence is a serious matter, affecting millions of men and women each year. And though some will always place the onus on the victim to not be victimized in the first place (i.e. questions like, “Why didn’t he/she leave?” or “What did he/she do to provoke the attack?”) let’s raise our sons to respect themselves and others enough to not be abusive in the first place. Breaking the cycle of violence isn’t easy, but if we gave young men more room to express themselves and taught them to honor the rights and agency of others, perhaps we wouldn’t see so many young men killing each other or themselves. Tweet...
50 Cent challenged Floyd Mayweather to a reading challenge, and apparently the boxer struggles to read. But so do many of our boys, and it’s no laughing matter.
“Why did he run?” That’s the question that gets thrown back at me when I tweet about my frustration around Michel Brown’s murder by the Ferguson police. Yes, murder. That young man was slain—hands up, no gun in sight, barely human. His body lay in the street for four hours while police armed themselves for war with a community who’d just lost one of their sons. It’s not fair. I am tired of hearing about Black boys being murdered. I am tired of driving by makeshift memorials on street corners or Facebook pages or Twitter feeds. I am tired of being angry and wrung out. I am tired of hearing of the stories of boys who could be my son in a dozen years, cut down way before their time. I am tired of feeling like no matter what happens, no matter how messed up this is, it will happen again, and again, and again because our boys are not seen as human. They are thugs, violent, feared. I am numb, and I ache all at once. Like…I don’t even want to *hear* another thing about another child being gunned down. IT’S TOO MUCH. — britni danielle (@BritniDWrites) August 11, 2014 It’s hard to parent from a place of rage. Hard to encourage my son to be all he can be while being terrified that when he gets older he’ll be seen as a threat, a target, a stereotype. My son—all arms and elbows and long legs—is brilliant. But brilliance cannot save him from a cop’s gun, a racist’s fury, or some equally brilliant, but misguided young man who wasn’t hugged enough. I don’t know what to tell my son about Mike Brown or Trayvon Martin or John Crawford or Oscar Grant or Jordan Davis or Eric Garner or Amadou Diallo or Sean Bell or Latasha Harlins or Aiyana Jones. Look. We can kumbaya till forever and ever, amen. But if a cop shoots MY unarmed son, some shit is getting burned down. Just FYI. — britni danielle (@BritniDWrites) August 11, 2014 I do not want him to carry their burdens or my suspicion of the police, and this world, but what choice do I have, especially when I want nothing more than to keep him safe? I do not know how to keep him safe, so I hug him tighter, tickle him harder, and try to make every single day count. Share...
