From Mother to Son

by Sarah Hernández


Dear Brandon,


The last couple of days, we’ve been talking about the protests, George Floyd, Eric Garner, Amadou Diallo, police arrests, racism, and all the things surrounding race that we talked about while you were growing up grew up. The scariest thing about those conversations is that I am now having them with you as an adult, and not the innocent child who would hold my hand tight and readily follow me as I steered you away from any physical or emotional harm that might come your way. As the mother of a Black man, hearing you say things like, “I’m going to go protest, and if I get arrested then I get arrested but I’m still going to march,” when I have done everything in my power to protect you from the odds that were already against you is disheartening. And yet, I would be a hypocrite if I said that I did not understand how the pain, anger, and frustration you feel compels you to action.

Brandon, I raised you to use your voice, have confidence, be strong, and to stand up for yourself. Ironically, this was the opposite of how I was raised. As a Latina woman, I was raised to be quiet, to just deal with humiliation, pain, and to not take a stand for “it will just pass, and you’ll be ok.” Well, it doesn’t always just “pass”, and it most definitely is not “ok!” Much of what went on then, is still going on right now and for this I admire our young people for insisting on being seen and heard.

As a principal, I want students and staff members within my school community to know that we stand united in the fight against racism and discrimination. Speaking from a motherly perspective, I want my students to be heard in the safest place possible, which is this school community. I want my teachers to help our students advocate for themselves and at the same time educate others on ways to do it with a clear focus on the cause, and not the media. Lastly, I want members within my school community to support each other, especially their colleagues and families of color during this difficult, challenging and scary time--especially our parents of young black men. As a school leader, I want members of my LAD community to trust that I will support them in any way I can, continue to create a space for us to come together to address what makes us comfortable and uncomfortable. As a leader I want members of my school’s community to provide each other with loving support—the same loving support I gave you. This, my son, is my legacy.