Punch Me Up To The Gods: A Memoir

by Brian Broome

Stop feeling fear and pain. Tuan’s father is telling me to tuck it away somewhere where no one can see it. To be ashamed of it. It’s the age-old conundrum. Black boys have to be tough but, in doing so, we must also sacrifice our sensitivity, our humanity. I can feel his urgency and know that my body has done something wrong.

I remember how he tried to make me listen, telling me that I needed a thicker skin and how he’d rather kill me himself than see white people do it.

I want to get up to block her view and tell Tuan that, when it comes to white people, he has a shockingly short time to be cute before he becomes threatening. Black boys don’t get a long boyhood. It ends where white fear begins, brought on by deepening voices, broadening backs, and coarsening hair in new places beneath our clothing.