A Nature Un-Nurtured: the Black Imagination in this Moment

I look in the mirror and ask myself, am I this way because of you or in spite of you? I can’t speak to my mother for 5 minutes nowadays without her reminding me of how much I look just like you. I often wonder how she feels when she says this; her tone an imperceptible mixture of adoration and frustration that leaves me longing for an opportunity to know what she sees. For black boys, our imagination is a lifeline. It provides us a vision and sense of self outside of the images that are represented in the media or the messages that are perpetuated in schools. But when it comes to you, I was never able to conjure up any images, and instead was left with feelings of anger, abandonment, or embarrassment. This nature of mine that has gone unnurtured for decades has left a bittersweet taste that I’ve gotten used to. When pondering upon my reflection, I take pride in the man I’ve become without you, yet I can’t help but wonder how your presence would have changed the fuzzy image staring back at me. Art provided another lifeline, as I fused the images and messages of my favorite musicians, athletes, and actors together into some form of a Frankenfather that I could follow. Their songs of struggle were my soundtrack, their athletic feats gave me something to aspire to out in my driveway, and their special episodes about absent fathers provided me with the validation that I was not alone. Yet right now, with everything going on, I feel more alone than ever. There’s a you-sized void that can no longer be filled with distractions, and I have accepted that. There are greater factors at play, and it is time that we open our eyes to an understanding that our current circumstances are a result of deliberate action, and therefore necessitates that a greater amount of energy and resources are put in place to eradicate the barriers that so many have worked hard to create. Our imagination and our art must continue to be a source of power and pride, not our demise. Now more than ever these lifelines are vital, for they capture the true representation of our beautifully complex existence; one that will not be simplified into images of victimhood or anarchy. Know that your creations take on a new meaning to black boys like me, bringing much needed clarity and definition to a visage I am only truly beginning to perceive. I am this way because of you. I am this way because of all of you. Happy Father’s Day. Rest in Peace to George Floyd, and to every life that has been taken at the hands of systemic violence. Our black lives will always matter.