Have you ever stopped to think about the things your parents did to make you feel safe? Not just the obvious stuff, like locking the doors at night or reminding you to look both ways before crossing the street, but the deeper things—the way they created a world where you could feel secure even when the world outside didn’t always seem welcoming.
If you grew up in a Black family, safety wasn’t just about physical protection. It was layered, thoughtful, and often unspoken. It was about shielding you from the world’s harshest realities while helping you navigate them. Sometimes, your parents did it in ways you didn’t fully understand until years later.
Think back to how your parents always seemed to have rules that were stricter than your friends’ parents. Maybe they wouldn’t let you spend the night at other people’s homes, even when you begged. “I don’t know their people like that,” your mom might’ve said, leaving you fuming because everyone else was allowed.
At the time, it might have felt unfair, but now? Now, you see it differently. It wasn’t just about trust; it was about safety. Your parents knew the risks that came with letting their child out of their sight in a world that didn’t always value your innocence or well-being. That rule was their way of creating a protective barrier around you, even if it made them the “strict” ones.
And then there were the ways they tried to teach you street smarts without scaring you too much. Maybe they told you not to talk to strangers or warned you to stay away from certain parts of the neighborhood. Maybe it was a quiet look they gave you when you were out in public—a subtle signal to stay close and stay alert to feel safe. These weren’t just rules; they were acts of love, quiet shields meant to keep you safe.
Discipline, too, often carried a deeper meaning. If you grew up in a household with rules about respect, punctuality, and “staying in your place,” it wasn’t just about control. It was about teaching you how to navigate a world that wouldn’t give you many chances.
You might remember being told not to run in stores or to speak up only when spoken to. It might have felt stifling at the time, but your parents used it to prepare you for spaces where people would judge you unfairly. They were trying to protect you from consequences that felt disproportionately harsh—consequences that too often followed Black children who were simply being kids.
But it wasn’t all about rules and preparation. Your parents also found ways to create pockets of joy, moments where you could just be. They understood that safety wasn’t only about protection; it was about letting you feel free, even if only for a little while.
Think about the way your parents socialized, how they turned gatherings into celebrations of life. Whether it was a christening, a birthday, or a backyard BBQ, music, food, and laughter filled those moments. You might have watched your dad crack jokes with his friends or seen your mom dancing to her favorite song; her face lit up with joy.
In those moments, you learned how to enjoy life and how to find safety and comfort in the community. Even as they worked to protect you from the world’s harshness, your parents showed you how to revel in its beauty.
Now, as you reflect on these memories, you might wonder how you can carry that legacy forward. How can the way your parents made you feel safe guide you in your own life?
Maybe it’s about finding the balance between shielding and preparing, between protecting innocence and teaching resilience. It’s about knowing when to set boundaries and when to let joy take over, when to be firm, and when to be soft.
Think about how you create safety for yourself and those you care about. Do you set boundaries that protect your peace? Are you finding ways to create joy, even in difficult times? Do you build a sense of community, like the one your parents built around you?
What your parents did to make you feel safe wasn’t perfect. No parent gets it right all the time. But their efforts—their rules, their discipline, their laughter, their love—left you with something powerful.
As you carry that forward, ask yourself: How can you use those lessons to create spaces of safety, joy, and resilience for yourself and others?
Because if there’s one thing the Black experience has always taught us, it’s this: even in the hardest times, we find ways to protect, nurture, and uplift. Your parents passed down that legacy to you, and now, you have the power to carry it forward.
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