![]() Often times, falling into one of these traps is a guarantee for young Black men that we will be ensnared by the others, and those who do survive these trials often learn lessons about our masculinity that are less about "living" than they are about finding the narrowly prescribed path to mere survival. And most of all: do not fall in with the wrong crowd.Īs we grow from youth into early manhood, it is impossible to avoid seeing other Black males culled by the system that our parents used their words and instruments to protect us from: Failing, suspended, and expelled by schools, snatched from their families by Children's Aid, consumed by substance addiction, or dragged into the maw of the carceral system. Address your elders as "sir," and "ma'am." Study your schoolbooks. We feel this way because our parents begin driving the message into our heads at an early age-and when their words fail to suffice, it is too often driven into our backsides with their belts and sandals, instead. Where we fromįor many young Black men in North America, the world can feel like it's been purpose-built for our destruction. But through the crucible of his own experiences-from mental-health troubles and a crisis of sexual identity, to a frayed relationship with his father and becoming a father himself- Andray Domise works to understand how Black masculinity is really made. I think that came from him.Youth Illustration by Chiedza Pasipanodya The making of a Black man The world has long told Black boys what they’re allowed to be. I decided despite my beginning I would end well. We must all decide in the end who we are and live with the consequences. This is the way my father believes each person must live their life. My pride and self-belief drove me beyond the norm. Despite this, I always believed I was destined for more. Fear of death and violence daily, a powerful motivating factor to positive but mostly the negative behaviours of those living in these communities. ![]() I had experienced what an urban warzone is. As a young man, I had two of my closest friends murdered, many of my friends stabbed or seriously injured, arrested and harassed. It exposed me to violence, death, crime, police, fear, comradery and fellowship. Again, another subject that requires its own dissembling and exploration. It seems inevitable that a worrying majority of young black boys and girls, regardless of their ‘class’ will become exposed to either discrimination, violence, crime or gangs. The lack of positivity in the black community is the child of institutional racism combined with poverty. Without knowing it, the power struggle and the annoying consistencies I experienced as a child prepared me for those things that I had no idea would come. Be creative and express it in whichever way you are so inclined. Rules are important but you must break boundaries. His whole persona embodied all he taught me. He made me work for the things I wanted whilst encouraging me to push beyond. He taught me about hard work and dedication and had an undying faith that I could be successful in anything. He educated us about the responsibilities and dangers of being young and black in England. He taught us morals, shared his religious faith, gave rules and taught us accountability. Now with four children he was responsible for, I can only speculate on the complexity of emotions he overcame to be the rock of our family in such a difficult time.ĭespite the duress and pressure my father must have been under, he never wavered. Furthermore, in later life, his new wife had cancer on two separate occasions. He was on his own with two sons and all the stress of life and finances. ![]() ![]() He persevered through shift work, low paying jobs, absence from his children. Not too long after he was made redundant. The woman he built a life with, his everything, the mother of his children was taken from him. Having since experienced love, relationships and the pain of break ups, I can not imagine the difficulty and suffering my father went through. My sadness on reflection was probably mirroring the emotions of those around me. Retrospectively, I can honestly say I was too young to really understand or feel true pain. It is a story that requires its own personal blog to explain how her memory is part of who I am today. When I was four years old, my mother died quite suddenly. Often the simplest things can be the most complex in practise. ![]() My father is a traditional man with simple goals in life to build a family and provide for us. ![]()
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