Uncles Matter Too...
I love my nephews.
In many ways I have become the “go to guy” for guy stuff for them. This is NOT because their dad isn’t in their lives. They have a great father and I don’t try to replace him. I know my role is a support character in this theater of their lives. I am a member of their village and they are members of mine.
Last summer, I taught them to speak and write a few phrases in Mandarin… just because I knew they could. Two summers ago it was all about the Smithsonian’s and trying to see who could remember the most about each and every one of them. We spend a great deal of time talking, and I also FaceTime with them all the time. This is primarily because they live in a different state than I do, and I travel for work often. FaceTime is easy and allows for us to check in, and it forces them to look me in the eyes while we talk, something else we practice.
One of these FaceTime sessions was the inspiration for this post. One night I’m on the road and the youngest nephew hits me with a text. He needs to talk. Not too out of the ordinary, so I get done with my hearing, get back to the room, and hop on FaceTime to see what the deal is… The following conversation happens:
Me: What’s up Lil J?
Lil J: Are we slaves?
Me: Wait, what? Ask me that again?
Lil J: Are we slaves?
Me: No… We aren’t slaves. Why did you ask?
Lil J: Well I was in class and Chris said I was a slave because I was black. He said black people are slaves.
Me: *…Jesus…*
Now all the senses in my body told me that I should not tell my loving nephew that his new theme song ought to be “Knuck If You Buck,” but I reallllly wanted to in that moment. You see, in that moment I wanted my nephew to feel better and to show this person that his perception of (his) superiority was a fallacy in his version of reality. Because I knew my nephew, the kid I saw lay three kids out from the free safety position in little league football could handle this quickly.
But I didn’t…
Instead I talked through a portion of our collective history. I told him that while slavery was a part of “our story” – both his story and his classmate’s story – the history of black people didn’t start in slavery and it damn sure didn’t end there. I talked him through the complex emotions of him still wanting to be friends with his classmate, and the boundaries that should be established immediately should they hope to move forward from this teaching moment. I talked him through it all the while thinking “Jesus… He is SEVEN and this happened DURING Black History Month!?”
Needless to say my conversation with his mom was more colorful because she knew nothing about it. Not because she isn’t one of the best parents ever but rather… he only wanted to talk about it with Uncle Joe. I found out from my nephew that the teacher was:
1) In the class when it happened.
2) Knew it happened.
And 3) Had done nothing more than told the classmate not to say it again.
Player what!? No explanation why? No talk with the rest of the class about why? No. Just stop and move along? Oh, I also found out he had these feelings and questions inside his head for a full week and only wanted to talk with me about them. Jesus. Fix. It.
This moment reminded me how important we all are in the village, and how a world can take children on a ride to a very bad place if we are not vigilant in and on our watch. What would have happened if my nephews didn’t know Uncle Joe is always there for them? What if I hadn’t put these years into telling them I loved them and showing them with my actions that I meant it. Years into being a consistent guy…what if I fell back on one of those tired platitudes about them “not being my kids” and thus not my responsibility?
Tragedy…that’s what may have happened. Another boy lost to a bad situation thinking he is in it alone.
I thank God for giving me the chance to be a better person for them. Sure they are just my nephews, but I treat them like my sons because they are sons in my village. I am also glad that we made it through that situation… And right into the situation where two of his classmates were claiming to be his girlfriend.
He. Was. SEVEN.
Jesus.
***REPOST from My Guest Blog Post on Dadmies.com***