Hope and Fear

Some ramblings this morning:

1. One out of every three black boys ends up with time in prison. I’m imagining what it feels like to be the mama to one of those boys. I’m not over complicating this and wrapping any other story around that…and ask that for the moment…you try do the same. 

Just trying for a moment to put myself in the heart and shoes of that mama. 

2. Smiling and thinking about my first conversation with my friend Antonio Baldwin. We talked about so much. I am remembering how surprised he was to learn that I, who grew up with so much money (he had grown up with very little in comparison)…had struggled with alcoholism…that I had struggled to fit in, to feel worthy, to be loved. 

3. Feeling now…the need to tell you about my time this week…with the wife of a CMPD officer: her courage in reaching out to me…the fears and tears that come each night, as her husband leaves for work; her deep desire to tell his story, to humanize him…the man, the father, the son.  

How hard it is to explain all this to her 12 year old son…the hatred and anger so many have for his father…the vast issue at hand.

4. I sit in the hotel room at the Liaison Hotel in Washington, DC…with a Starbucks and this smartphone and wonder how to hold pain in one hand and hope in the other.

(Thanks Edson Fisher Scudder Jr. For this amazing photograph.)

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