Preserving the Childhood of Black Girls

Black girls have been under attack since the beginning of time. Their childhoods have historically been cut short, and it’s just not fair.

Even before becoming a mother, I fiercely protected little Black girls.

Often forgotten and minimized, it was my goal since I was a young girl myself to uplift and encourage our precious babies.

I worked with middle school girls for years. I pushed them beyond their self and society-imposed boundaries and loved them with all of my heart.

Even with my great expectations and high standards, because I knew what they were going through because I had been through what they were going through, I maintained a safe place for them.

I never forgot that they were children.

Expect kids to act like kids

Now, please understand, there were times when my girls were sassy, had attitudes, and tried to push the limits with me.

These girls were pre-teens. They were hormonal, and basically losing their minds.

That’s what kids do.

As an educator, I expected that, and part of my work was to teach them how to channel that sassiness into confidence and become a leader.

Oh, and there were times when these girls worked my last nerve. The next day, though, we started from scratch again. When you’re teaching children, patience and repetition are the name of the game.

For many of the little Black girls that I mentored, their childhood ended at age 7 or 8.

They often had responsibilities that teenagers and even college-age students don’t have.

By the time they got to me at age 12, small things like walking to school nearly a mile away by themselves had turned into more substantial responsibilities like taking care of siblings, cooking dinner, or caring for elderly grandparents.

Black girls pushed too hard, too soon

These girls could recognize that they were poor. They were already starting to identify and internalize their low position on society’s totem pole.

Where does this come from? What makes them believe this? 

As the mother of a little Black girl, I have wondered if I was guilty of perpetuating this problem.

I had a conversation with some friends about whether they felt like we pushed our girls too hard too soon.

I was apprehensive that I might be rushing her through childhood because I was so worried about us having to be “10x better.”

Then I came to my senses.

Dehumanization is the problem

Society and its dehumanization of Black children is the problem.

Our Black children have very little value in society.

Well, unless they’re doing something extraordinary.

Even then we can’t shield them from hate.

A few years ago, The Onion called Oscar-nominated then, 9-year-old Black girl, Quvenzhané Wallis a c*nt, and some people wrote it off because The Onion is satire.

But she was 9.

To be fair, there were a lot of people on Twitter who were outraged at the use of the disgusting slur being directed toward a child.

What they didn’t understand was that Black folks were so angry because we were exhausted from having to justify our children’s rights to be treated with respect and love.

You know, like other kids.

How do we protect Black girls?

• Acknowledge when race is an issue

First, you can acknowledge when race is an issue.

It doesn’t help the cause when we say things like, “That word shouldn’t be directed towards anyone” when it’s directed towards a little Black girl.

Don’t be naive.

It’s not your fault that white privilege is a real thing, but white privilege is a real thing.

Let’s stop sugarcoating the issues and really address the problem.

Black children get treated much differently than white children.

This is a proven fact. A study found that adults think Black girls as young as 5 need less protection and nurturing than their White peers. 

Until white people really accept that and start holding the media and the rest of society responsible for treating all children the same, it’s never going to happen.

• Get in touch with your own perceptions about Black girls

Are the expectations you have for the Black girls in your life age appropriate and realistic?

When you’re quoting a little Black girl, do you automatically get a “Sassy Black Girl” accent? Do you start rolling your neck?

Can you even picture a Black child that isn’t a baby, a toddler, or a preschooler?

Of course, you care about all kids, but make sure you understand that even a 14-year-old Black girl with a developing body is still a child.

That’s it. If we could get every person in the world to start with those two actions, we might actually be able to give our Black girls a fighting chance at childhood passed the age of 5.

Until then, Black parents are going to have to stay on our toes. 

We’ll have to keep battling for our daughters who deserve much more than the hate that they’re often subjected to.