You may recall that, in a few prior posts, I shared the beauty of my first grandchild’s birth and how my daughter is now carrying the weight of worry that Black mothers feel when it comes to raising boys.
Together, we’ve felt compelled to dive even deeper into this reality of life.
The missing piece that connects the “birth story” to the “societal story.”
It provides a perspective that many people who “don’t see color” never have to consider: that for a Black father, a “gender reveal” isn’t just about sports vs. tutus—it’s about levels of danger.
Adding this creates a powerful narrative arc: Makensie wanted her White mother in the room for physical safety, while her Black father worried about the grandson’s social safety before he was even born.
The Weight of a Grandson: A Father’s Fear
There is a specific kind of grief that comes with realizing your family’s joy is tied to a legacy of fear. When Makensie found out she was having a boy, she noticed her father (who is Black) seemed quiet—almost disappointed. When she asked him why he had hoped for a girl, his answer was honest and brutal.
He told her that he only knows the experience of being a Black man in this country. He knows the weight of the prejudices, the assumptions, and the constant need to navigate a world that often sees you as a threat before it sees you as a human. He didn’t want that heavy, lifelong burden placed on his grandson.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want a grandson; it was that he wanted to protect his grandson from the “Black male experience.”
The Shield and the Reality
This brings the whole picture into focus:
The Mother’s Side: Using white privilege as a “shield” in the hospital room to ensure the medical system listens.
The Father’s Side: The “honest and brutal” fear that a Black boy will grow up in a world that isn’t fair to him.
As an LCMHCA, Makensie understands that this isn’t just “family drama”—it is generational trauma. When a grandfather’s first thought at a gender reveal is about systemic prejudice, we cannot say we live in a “colorblind” world.
To ignore color is to ignore the very real, very heavy weight that my daughter’s husband and father carry every single day.
The Counselor’s Conclusion: From Awareness to Action
As an LCMHCA, Makensie is trained to look at the systems that affect a person’s mental health. As her mother, I have had to look at the systems I have personally been part of. We cannot heal what we refuse to see.
The “Colorblind” Fallacy
When people say, “I don’t see color,” they think they are being kind. But to my daughter, that phrase feels like an erasure of her fear.
To not see color is to ignore the medical anxiety she felt in Room 3347.
To not see color is to ignore the brutal honesty of a Black grandfather who worries for his grandson’s safety before he even takes his first breath.
To not see color is to dismiss the mental labor required to navigate a world that labels a Black woman’s advocacy as “anger.”
In my book, Loved Just As I Am, I confess that I have been silent when I should have spoken. I have had to admit that my own “fair skin” gave me the option to look away, while my daughter never had that choice.
If you find yourself uncomfortable reading these truths, I invite you to lean into that discomfort. That is where the growth happens. Honoring the dream of MLK—and the legacy of advocates like Dr. Jannell Green Smith—requires more than just “getting along.” It requires:
Active Advocacy: Using your voice and privilege to stand in the gap for those the system ignores.
Truth-Telling: Acknowledging the full history of our country and our families, even the “cringe-worthy” parts.
Safe Spaces: Creating environments where minority voices don’t have to “shrink” or do the emotional labor for everyone else.
Our Shared Prayer
As we look toward the birth of Makensie and Demetrius’ second child, Moses,
during Black History Month, our prayer remains the same:
God, may we learn more, serve more, and prevent more.
We will not “shut our yappers.” We will choose peace, we will choose honesty, and we will continue to fight for a world where a mother doesn’t need a “shield” to feel safe bringing new life into the world.
Resources & Next Steps
Read the Full Journey: To learn more about navigating racial bias and finding grace, pick up a copy of my book, Loved Just As I Am.
Join the Conversation: We invite you to share this post and leave a comment. How are you moving past “colorblindness” to “color-sighted” advocacy?
