Today my student's mother died. My biggest concern was making sure he was able to grieve like a child. Because Black boys don't often get that. And while I stray from acknowledging politics and current events, because I feel too much and Black death/hatred is rampant... I couldn't help but marvel at Black boy magic, today. I don't usually make time to speak the names of the deceased, and still - this is a long overdue poem for the Black boys I love that are alive and well.
For Kelly. And Braylon. And Kayden. And Romello. And Evan. And Joseph. And Felix. And Malachi. And Cedric. And Juwan. And Devyn. And Jon. And Shawn. And Vincent. And Deontaye. And Dayshawn. And Davaughn. And MJ. And Zion. And Azola. And Raider. And Jaelyn. And Donta. And Nathaniel. And Larry. And Tyler. For the Black boy of my husband's youth, and for you - Black boy. Insert your name here.