Look at her. Besides being strikingly beautiful, she is a D1 Athlete at University of Michigan. She is strong. She is a Political Science major. She is smart. She is the oldest sister to 7 younger brothers and sisters. She is both patient and kind.   

Look at her. Sitting. Listening. Practicing her First Amendment right to peaceably assemble.

She is my daughter, Jada. She is 22 years old protesting the police killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis, MN on May 30th.

I posted this picture on Facebook with the hashtags #BlackLivesMatter, #YouthLeadership and #ProudMom. The post has received several hundred “likes” and words of encouragement and support. The truth is I am also a #ScaredMom.

Look at her. She is Black. Therefore, I am not the expected run-of-the-mill, scared that all mothers experience. But the scared that only mothers of Black Children can fully comprehend. This fear is not irrational. It begins when our babies are still in utero and data tell us they are more likely to be born early and/or to die before age 1. The fear grows as we know they are more likely to die prematurely of largely preventable illnesses and diseases that begin to manifest in their 20s. And it culminates in the knowledge that they may be killed at the hands of those sworn to protect them, as data tells us that her beautiful skin makes her 3 times as likely to be killed by police.  

A recent article about the unbearable grief of Black mothers, says Black Mothers have a persistent fear that the smallest interaction can trigger a sequence of events leaving their children unsafe. This is not an unfounded fear, we know legally white fear alone is sufficient cause to take Black lives. We also know that despite everything we teach them about being black and being safe, it may not be enough. This fear is embedded in our being and it shows up in our body in physical and emotional ways. “There are no instructions about where Black mothers are supposed to place their fears and sorrow.”

My daughter is completing her final classes at the University of Michigan and is part of the Class of 2020. Graduates should be looking forward to continuing their education, traveling, and entering the workforce. But Jada and other Black youth, like the lyrics of 12-year-old Keedron Bryant’s song, just want to live. The cap and gown for our youth are face masks and signs. Their graduation stages are the capitals and police stations where they protest.

Black mothers like me, share their images with #BlackLivesMatter #YouthLeadership #ProudMom, as we push down our fears and sorrows for hope that we can convince you to see them as we do: beautiful, strong, smart, patient, kind, and worthy of living.

Alia Stevenson is a nINA Collective Director and the Chief Program Officer of the Foundation for Black Women’s Wellness. She is based in Madison, WI.