Demanding More For The Future Black History Makers And The Mothers Who Birth Them

As Black History Month comes to a close I've been reflecting on the history of black women as mothers. Thinking about our legacy as the women who tirelessly carried our families and communities. Mothers who didn't listen when the world said we were thoughtless breeders and our children were mere commodities to be bought or sold. In more recent history, black mothers have been publicly shamed as crack mothers, welfare queens and the face of "baby mama drama." Black single motherhood is blamed for all sorts of social ills from crime to drugs to "wilding" teens. And black mothers are often represented in popular culture as neck-rolling domineering household managers who run circles around our men.

Let's face it. The historical misperception of who we are has not been very flattering.

But I'm asking you to stay true to what you know: These stereotypes are very far from the truth. In truth, black women today have redefined black history and created a new conversation about our roles as mothers. For example, when I watched the Brady Bunch and Happy Days and reruns of Leave It To Beaver, the subtle messaging was that being a stay at home mom and catering to your child's every need was a white woman's pleasure. Black women have always worked--as slaves, as cleaners, as teachers, as doctors, as lawyers. Even our TV mamas (Claire Huxtable included) always worked outside the home.

Today more and more black women are stay at home or work at home moms (myself included), we have robust national organizations like Mocha Moms http://mochamoms.org/ to support women who are making motherhood their career (even if just for a few years or so).

We have a First Lady who epitomizes everything modern black motherhood is about, career success, loving partnership and commitment to being the mom-in-chief of your own family command center.

This shift in our motherhood experience may seem subtle, but in the framework of our history, it is groundbreaking. And thrilling. It not only speaks to how far we have come as a people, but how far we have come as black mothers, who went from having no control over our children to taking control of our children, our lives, and our families' financial future. We now have varied and different motherhood experiences yet we still know we are doing important work that goes well beyond our home.

Yet, there is much work to do. We still need to increase our breastfeeding rates, to give our babies the healthiest start in life and improve our own health as mothers. We need to demand answers to why our maternal death rate is double and is some urban cities seven-times that of our white peers, and start questioning the quality of care we receive.

As we celebrate our history as black Americans, we must protect the next generation of black history-makers currently growing in wombs across the nation. And we must demand better care for the mothers who bring them into the world.

Is Black History Month Doing Us Any Good?

Three weeks ago, I started a discussion on my website, Mochamanual.com concerning whether or not Black History Month was still relevant or even necessary today.

I was starting to wonder myself.

The responses from our mocha (Manual) moms were eye opening. Several moms stated it's not about "them" (the white majority) learning our history, but more about "us" teaching our children our own history. And that as black mothers, we cannot properly prepare our children for the future if they don't know their past.

Also, Black History Month gives us a chance to correct the record books and to reflect: Where are we now? Can we do better? they said. And many commenters also feared that, with a black president, we could easily become complacent about how much further we have to go.

All good stuff.

One week later, I continued this lively dialogue over on Baby Center's blog, Momformation.com, hoping to share this message with a more mainstream audience. Imagine my surprise when things took a shockingly heated and disastrous turn for the worse. Some responses erred on the side of ignorance, while others were just blatantly racist. Some of the many contributors' comments included the following:

"I Don't Think We Need It At All… We Have A Black President What More Do You People Need????….. And The Slavery And Black People Issues Are Gone. So NO I Don't Think We Need A "Black History Month!"

"I think honestly black people are the ones that separate themselves. I'm not trying to be rude, but most "white" people see black and white people as the same, but black people still think that "white" people see them as maybe inferior or as "them and us," so please get over it, we are all the same."

"It seems however that black people don't really want what they are preaching; equality. They still want the segregation and to remind white people of how the past was. Your use of "us" and "them" is why "your" race is holding themselves back. I think the better lesson for all would be: Who really has the problem with racism? … As a white woman, I am saddened that people are still making this a huge issue. It happened, it is over, move on. Make the world better. If the focus and energy used on "race" was applied elsewhere, this world would be amazing!"

"It's separatist and serves to create an "us vs. them" atmosphere. If we truly want color to be a "non-issue" why have a BLACK history month? Is there an Asian history month (May)? A WHITE history month (uh, no)? A Native American history month (November)? That get the PR of black history month? Nope."

Besides for the fact that I always have to SMH whenever anyone says black people should "get over" slavery, I find it particularly sad that many people don't understand the legacy of slavery. (They also seem to forget that 246 years of slavery was followed by roughly 100 years of Jim Crow laws that lasted until 1965).

They don't see how race plays into everything, and I do mean everything from politics to education to health care reform to birth outcomes to cancer survival to maternal mortality rates. All of it has racial undertones. And sometimes overtones. (It's a word to me, :-))

They don't see the health disparities, wealth gap, employment gap or education gap as a byproduct of the systemic racism that still exists in this country.

They don't see it because they don't live it. Or live near it. In fact, they probably only drive past it. And very quickly with the doors locked.

What really saddens me is that this audience is moms. Parents. People responsible for shepherding young lives into the world--filling their brains and shaping their values. People whose children will be sitting in class next to my beautifully brown son and daughter.

Even more frightening, these people are policemen, teachers and, God help us, doctors and nurses, charged with our care. And our babies care.

Houston, we have a problem.

And the problem is a subtle bias lingering in the minds of many Americans.

And I'm just not sure if a million Black History Month's can ever fix that.

What do you think?

Seeing My Slave Roots: Thinking of the Mothers Before Me

Staring at the computer screen, I could barely make out the letters. But I will never forget what I heard. "These are likely the slave owners of your second great grandfather."

The very nice researcher from Ancestry.com had warned me when we sat down that she may have found some slave connections, but I figured, of course you would.

But staring at the Census report from 1900 and seeing the nearly illegible names felt a lot different than I expected. My mind was numb but my body had goose bumps.

Back then the Census was purely door to door. There was a large white family with sizable land listed as next door to my ancestors. And then I saw it, Phillip Billy, born in 1861 and his wife, Hagar, born in 1865. My second great grandparents on my mother's side.

And since there were no integrated neighborhoods back then, the fact that they are listed on the same street probably means that the family listed above Phillip and Hagar were likely their slaveowners--as it was gently explained to me. I stared hard at the handwriting but didn't bother to try to figure out the name. It started with an M.

The discovery was part of a mommy blogger day I attended recently hosted by Ancestry.com. A truly great experience in beautiful Salt Lake City! But as the only African American at the event, I couldn't help but notice my experience was very different from everyone else. There were plenty of stories from the staff of finding long lost ancestors in ship records, Ellis Island records, and in other countries. People were finding third and fourth great grandparents and other amazing ancestral connections. My discovery was a lot more sobering.

And the truth is, African Americans just can't trace their roots so easily. There are no records for our existence because we were not considered human beings.

If you really want to dig, the researcher also said, sometimes you can find slaves listed in the wills of landowners, often bequeathed behind cattle and other beasts of burden, she said. And because slaves could be killed for learning to read or write we were unable to document our own existence.

There was so much that I couldn't find, but was hoping to discover. I hoped to return with great stories to tell my children. That really didn't happen.

What I did find was generations of ancestors who could not read or write. Their children could not read or write. I found young babies who were listed in one year's Census but missing from the next count--they likely died. I saw large families of six or seven children of very young mothers. I saw ancestors who were only 8 years old but listed as working farmhands.

I wondered what it was like for those mothers whose babies died too soon and whose children were forced to work instead of learn. I thought about the "broken relationships" that researchers now believe contribute to poor birth outcomes today among Black women and whether these are a lingering legacy of slavery.

A report by the Joint Center Health Policy Institute called "The Courage To Love," contends that the problems of infant mortality and poor maternal nutrition are, in essence, problems of broken relationships at many levels. These broken relationships range from broken families, lack of support for breastfeeding, the decline in family meals, and the marketing of junk foods to children.

"These broken relationships create lifelong conditions of high stress and low support, which in turn pattern physiological, psychological, and behavioral responses that put the mother at risk for poor, nutrition during pregnancy, and her baby at risk for fetal and infant death. African American families are disproportionately affected by these broken relationships, which contribute to disparities in maternal nutrition and infant mortality," the report says.

In the end the report recommends that "any efforts to reduce maternal and infant mortality and morbidity must focus on the repair and support of relationships at all levels and across the life course."

The black mothers before us didn't have such insight. There was no research into their unique experience or examination of why their babies were dying. Generations later, Black mothers are still fighting for healthy babies. We now have a better understanding of why. Let's hope this insight leads to real action.