Papa's Got A Brand New Thought

I'm a Dad. I'm not just a dad, I'm a dad to a beautiful black girl. I'm obsessed with this little fusion of me and her mother. I'll tell you how much of a badass she is another time. I've had a chance to think about how to water this flower. You're raising a black princess. Training a young queen.

The need to buoy her confidence is priority one. The world has screamed that darkness, blackness, is not to be celebrated. We're made to only say black in hushed overtones only. Thats why bleaching creams are plastered to pages. Why thin noses are featured. Why "good" hair is front-page material. If yo hair is nappy, "they're" not happy. Well, fuck "them" then. That's the type of energy I want my daughter to be infused with. You are not your hair, baby girl. You don't have to conform to any beauty standards that don't serve you. You don't have to conform to any gender role. All I ask, is to remember your Dr. Seuss-- no one alive is youer than you. I know that the world is not kind to people who look like us, but hold your head high. Like the royalty you are. Tell em' if you don't want me then don't talk to me, go ahead and be yourself, or whatever Fantasia said.

"The most disrespected person in America is the black woman. The most unprotected person in America is the black woman. The most neglected person in America is the black woman." Malcolm X said that, not to white men, but to black. To snap us out of it. The onus is ON US. Black men. Respect our mothers, sisters, and daughters. The Call of duty is higher than you'll ever know. I already know life plays for keeps. Heartbreak and betrayal will surely find her before I want it to. There'll be some things you can protect her from but there'll be somethings she has to learn. The school of Hard-knocks has a tough curriculum. But the lessons, whew chile, the lessons leave marks, that if you're lucky, are only physical. A litany of chances for this thing to go off the rails. The margin for fuck ups: nil. You are the blueprint to every man she will ever love. Thats heavy. Go back and read it again, if you don't feel the weight.

So you're the captain now. How do you steer the ship? How do you train a young Queen? You shower her with love and affection. Like a flower is showered with light. You read to her. You write with her. Hug those hooker heels right out of her. You show up and give it 110%. Every. Damn. Time. The job calls for nothing less. And when she's not in your presence, you still carry her in your spirit. Every good parent does. You do all of this, and know that even with your best shot, you're still going to miss on occasion. Parenting is the real Kobayashi Maru. So I leave with this poem. Summing up the success rate. Training a young queen, and hoping for the best fate.

They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you.

-- Philip Larkin