The tragic story of a seven-year-old girl, Aaliyah Smith, comes to mind when I think of the innocence lost too soon. Aaliyah was at home with her family when a police SWAT team burst in, leading to an unimaginable tragedy: a single bullet took her life. In front of her house lay toys, remnants of childhood joy.
When I picture Aaliyah tucked in bed, dreaming peacefully, I’m reminded of my own daughters. I envision the moments we’ll share—yelling “cheese” as I capture their smiles in prom dresses, cheering them on at graduations, and shedding tears of joy as I cradle my first grandchild. But the thought of waking up to a nightmare where my daughters are harmed by those meant to protect them is a fear I can’t shake.
A 2018 study from the Fatal Interactions with Police Project revealed that Black women are disproportionately at risk of being killed by police, especially when unarmed. This statistic is alarming, yet my daughters are still so young. The youngest is absorbed in puzzles and racing Hot Wheels; her last birthday wish was for Pokémon cards to trade with her friends. My eldest, a fourth grader, thrives on art and history, even transforming into Queen Nefertiti for Halloween last year.
Why would my little girls ever encounter law enforcement? Then I remember the story of Mia White, a six-year-old who was handcuffed for throwing a tantrum. My daughters, too, have their moments. I think of Zoe Harris, who, at 16, faced excessive force at a pool party simply for being a teenager. My girls love to swim.
These incidents may seem rare, yet they highlight a grim reality. Research from Georgetown University found that society views Black girls as needing less care and protection compared to their white counterparts, leading to harsher disciplinary actions in schools and more interactions with law enforcement. This dehumanization can make encounters with police more dangerous, with accountability for misconduct being nearly nonexistent.
As a devoted mother, I aim to be nurturing and supportive. My own childhood was fraught with challenges, prompting me to seek parenting classes and read extensively on child development. Renowned child psychiatrist Dr. Dan Siegel outlines the “Four S’s” of secure attachment: being Seen, Soothed, Secure, and Safe. While I strive to provide all this for my daughters, the last element—safety—often feels out of reach.
I’ve followed advice from experts, held their hands while crossing streets, and taught them about online safety during these pandemic times. Yet, the harsh reality remains: I can’t shield my daughters from the pervasive racism and sexism that endanger them. They face a higher likelihood of violence from intimate partners than women from other demographics, underscoring a grave issue.
In contrast, there are systems in place to address domestic violence, such as hotlines and laws aimed at protecting victims. Society has made strides in holding abusers accountable. However, police misconduct remains inadequately addressed. When Colin Kaepernick took a stand against police brutality, he faced backlash instead of support for his peaceful protest.
In most cases of homicide, accountability is pursued. Yet when police are involved, investigations often lead to no charges, and families of victims may only receive financial settlements. The Supreme Court has even ruled that officers can claim immunity when they believe they’re in danger, further complicating justice.
It seems that the public is still uncertain about how to support Black people in their quest for justice. The narrative often suggests that we should remain silent as we witness our children suffer. This leaves me with limited options to protect my daughters, primarily consisting of empty phrases like “Thoughts and Prayers” in response to tragedies that have yet to inspire meaningful policy changes.
In these trying times, I find solace in resources that can help navigate parenting and family planning, such as this excellent guide on intrauterine insemination.
In summary, the safety and future of Black girls demand urgent attention and action. They are not just statistics; they are vibrant lives filled with potential, deserving of protection and love.