I thought if I had a little boy, he had a better chance at escaping my fate. He wouldn’t be immune to unkindness, of course—I certainly had my anxieties about bringing a little Black boy into the world. But I was able to hold that fear. I was able to isolate those anxieties. I told myself that I could prepare my baby for the nastiness that awaited Black boys in America, even though I knew my heart couldn’t handle the reality that too many of our boys are robbed of their innocence and walk through life with a target on their backs. But still, it felt different than the overwhelming fear of
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