Holding my Black son tight: a mother’s reflection
In the wake of Tyre Nichols’s murder, I find myself wanting to hold onto my Black son a little tighter.
He is 7.
Young enough to still be deemed cute by some, but old enough to not be given as much grace for simply “being a kid” by others.
Sometimes I spoil him a bit more than I’d like to.
It’s only really because even though I know technically he’s a kid until age …