I Refuse To Let Fear Dictate My Parenting
Black boy joy is essential and I allow my son to express his loudly. If wearing mismatched sneakers makes him happy, I don't care who looks at me sideways.
Hello Family!
Reporting in this early morning from the undisclosed location of the emotional maelstrom following the piece I wrote here yesterday. Since I put the story of my dad out there, lots of people who knew him have reached out with information, about his life and death, that I’d never heard before. I am not sure why I hadn't thought about the likelihood that I might get those kinds of responses and I appreciate them all. But it's led to an ongoing swirl of revelations, shocks, guffaws, gasps, freakouts, etc., one of which I just added to the end of the original post as a little update. I now see that I'm going to want to either keep adding more there with every pertinent piece as it comes in or do another post with all the new information at once, if anyone's interested. Most important: Thank you all for the tremendous support you’ve given me in the comments on that story and elsewhere. It means everything.
I'm kind of wiped, if you can’t tell. But so happy to get to bring you this story today about a joyous healthy family relationship between the amazing Meeka and her son. It's a particular pleasure for me to read it again with you now and hear the care and thought and wisdom Meeka’s putting into her raising of him. I won't go on because she says it all way better herself. But if you lived through my saga with me yesterday, I absolutely think you deserve this also.
And if it encourages you in any way to write in on AJPT, I will tell you that I met Meeka in the comments here too. I think she was responding to the infamous poop post (I am always surprised by how often people overuse and misuse the word infamous - and penultimate - but in this case, I think it applies). Meeka had such a funny story of her own to tell there that I begged her to write something more for all of us here in AJPT-land to read. I was thrilled when she said yes. (She also lovingly showed up for the Substack Live interview I did recently- and where were the rest of you, huh??) I hope this won't be the last thing Meeka writes for AJPT. I love her and what she has to say.
Let's all talk more below about Meeka’s wonderful piece, and about families and raising children – from both a parent and a kid perspective. (Right after having my own kid, I became aware of a shift such that when people told their stories involving parents and kids, I no longer immediately related to the kid in the scenario. I thought I was going to see the parents’ perspective first forever after that. But since yesterday, I am seeing every family story only from the kid’s side. I’m not sure when that will switch back.) Or we can talk about absolutely anything else you want to talk about too. I'm here in whatever state I’m in and talking to you in the comments is always my favorite part. Come however you are too.
Love always,
Jane
By Maliyka A. “Meeka” Muhammad
The thing about being a child is that you should have the freedom to be innocent and carefree. That kind of freedom-the joy of being untethered, unbothered, and untouched by the world’s rigid expectations—should belong to every child. However, not every child experiences that.
As a Black mother who was once a little Black girl, I understand what it’s like to be under a microscope in a world I didn’t create. Growing up, it wasn’t uncommon to hear, “Children should be seen and not heard.” Sometimes, folks didn’t even want to see us. Just the sight of us laughing, playing, and doing what kids are supposed to do was enough to set people off.
Now, as an adult who has read and observed how Black joy has often been seen as a threat, I understand. I see why my mother and grandmother avoided drawing too much attention to us. They weren’t trying to ruin our fun; they were trying to keep us safe.
Researchers Brody and Flor articulate what many of us have experienced: Black parents often adopt more directive or protective strategies, not because they are inherently stricter, but in response to the challenges their children face. Their 1998 study highlighted how factors such as unsafe neighborhoods, limited resources, and the threat of racial inequity influence parenting. It’s not about control; it’s about survival. I’ve decided to mother differently.
As the mother of a Black boy, I understand how this world perceives him. I refuse to let fear dictate my parenting. I’ve made a conscious choice to let my son express his joy openly when it’s safe to do so. That doesn’t mean I won’t have the “law enforcement” talk with him when the time comes, which, honestly, will be soon. It also doesn’t mean I won’t teach him that there’s an appropriate time and place for certain behaviors or expressions. However, even with that, I want him to feel free in his childhood: free to be curious, silly, expressive, and Black without apology. I’m doing everything I can to create a space where he doesn’t feel like he has to diminish himself or silence who he is.
In the photo above, he’s wearing mismatched sneakers. We were heading to Dance Africa 2025 to celebrate our Blackness. He’s been going since he was a baby. While he’s not exactly excited to sit through the shows, I believe it’s important that he’s there. That he sees us, knows us, and knows himself. That afternoon, while we were getting dressed, he asked if he could wear two different sneakers. I didn’t need an explanation; I just said yes. To be clear, he’s not on the spectrum. He doesn’t have any developmental delays. He just wanted to. And that childlike sense of freedom? I’m committed to nurturing it. Yes, I knew we’d get looks. And we did. People stared. I stared back, daring them to say something. He didn’t notice a thing. He was just happy, just being himself. So, we kept it moving, grounded in joy.
Some parents might give it a side-eye, wondering why I “let him” walk out of the house like that. However, the truth is that most of us lose that freedom as we get older. And when you’re Black, that window closes even faster. The world starts shaping you before you even realize it’s happening. So, if wearing mismatched sneakers makes him happy, then that’s what he’s doing. I’m not going to be the first person to tell him no when he’s doing something that brings him joy and harms no one.
I’m mothering differently. I didn’t have a horrible childhood, but I did experience trauma. Now that I know better, I have a responsibility to do better—not just for myself, but for him. I’m raising him with intention. I want him to understand that his differences are worthy of celebration, that his joy matters, and that childhood shouldn’t come with disclaimers. That’s why I am letting him revel in his BLACK BOY JOY, out loud and without apology.
Recently, I came across a quote attributed to Dr. Monique Morris:
“To deny Black children the right to be joyful, curious, loud, and free is to rob them of the very essence of childhood. That is violence.” While I haven’t been able to verify whether she actually said it, the quote resonated with me because that violence is still present. My generation, Generation X, walks around pretending we’re happy, but the truth is that many of us are still striving for freedom.
We continue to operate within what we were led to believe was a safety net for protection. There is no question for those among Black members of Generation X; there are times when our mere presence is seen as a threat. However, some of us have come to accept that what will be, will be, and that safety net we were led to believe was safe isn’t. Some of us have claimed it, saying to hell with what people think and starting to live fully. Others are still hiding their joy, unsure if it’s safe to let it shine.
Only recently have I begun to stop worrying about other people’s opinions and allow myself to start living joyfully. More than anything, I want my son to know from the start that he doesn’t have to wait for permission. His joy is valid. It’s sacred. And it deserves to be seen, felt, and heard. OUT LOUD.
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Thank you, Meeka. Not just for sharing your story but for parenting with bravery and breaking cycles of control over children. All children seem to be overly controlled in my opinion but for kids of color and Black and Brown kids this is clearly particularly true.
Let our kids express their joy and their individualism. Let them be messy and imperfect. I totally, totally agree with you and love that you are so strong in your convictions around this. xo
Thank you so much, Meeka, for everything you say here. I also love how when I asked if you would write something for us, you immediately knew exactly what you wanted to write about. It's perfect. Love to you and that wonderful boy.