What Should I Do When the Hoodie Comes Off?

Sorry I’m not surprised. Cue the sigh of relief for my daughter and son.

I got the memo from my father – back in the day – when I was acting like I could do what ever I wanted on the streets of the City. One of my younger brothers got a talking to after he spoke back to a City police officer (and made it home in one piece to tell us about it). My youngest brother had heard the love note – aloud – several times by just being around. We – our household and the neighborhood – had our own Black Codes.

It was one of the few things we didn’t dare test. Pop’s appeal to us – and exhortation that would give us a fighting chance to live as free as we could as young men. Simple rules: don’t leave the house without some identification; never get mouthy with police; know about Emmett Till and keep his story holy – to give white women space and not be fresh; always show your hands; dress up when you travel – sweatpants and jeans are only for loungin’ around the house; and, never run.

Always hit the full stop.

Make ‘em think someone will come looking for you if you don’t come back.

Yes sir. No ma’am.

These were our family rules for deference and for survival.  The best way my father knew – short of being around 24/7 – to keep his young’uns from getting picked up, housed somewhere, or murdered by people who were not going to give us the benefit of innocence.

I haven’t passed the memo on to my children yet. I hoped there was no longer a need. Was I naïve? Have I been irresponsible? Recent events make me question my judgment. But, response to those recent events keep me hopeful (note Professor Ruha Benjamin’s sociology class’ participation in the Million Hoodies movement at the end of the post). I might save the memo and talk to my children about why we’ve got to hit somebody’s rally; write letters; and, force the deeper – less media-driven – important conversations.

Is it about the guns? The violence? The auto-suspicion? How are we living? Is this how we want to live? Or, why we are now so captivated?

Peace to Trayvon, his family, and all of us?