By Andi Pyatt
“The Well” is a recurring column to remind us of the power we possess in mind, body and spirit.
A little over fourteen years ago I eagerly sat in my obstetrician’s office waiting to be called to the back. It was the day I would find out if my prayers had been answered. I prayed without ceasing; “God, please bless me with a healthy and brilliant little girl.” This was my first pregnancy and I was confident that I could handle a little girl. My family was filled with women who knew how to protect and nurture strong women. This would be perfect. People were already telling me of the dreams they had of me giving birth to a beautiful brown baby girl with a head full of thick curly hair just like mine. This sonogram was just a formality, I was promised this child. The nurse led us back to the room with all the high-tech equipment. I climbed on the table and she began her assessment. My baby met all the expected measurements. The nurse looked at me and said “would you like to know what you’re having?” I smiled coyly and stated, “I already know it’s a girl.” She looked at me and laughed. “You are having a BOY!” My heart sank and I sat up abruptly. A boy? No, she was terribly mistaken. She moved the monitor to allow a better look. It was a boy. I felt the tears well in my eyes as I smiled and tried not to appear too upset. We left the office that afternoon and went home. I went straight to bed and tried to settle my soul. This wasn’t the plan. How do I protect my son? As the country reeled from the impact of Hurricane Katrina and the disparities displayed towards black men in the news daily, the only thought I had was “this world doesn’t love black boys.”
Andi Pyatt is an educator, entrepreneur, wellness professional, and author. (Courtesy Photo)
As the months passed my emotions cycled. I had a healthy pregnancy, however the fear I experienced was constant. During that time, I was providing therapeutic counseling services. It just so happened that the majority of my clients were young black boys. Even my previous professional experience was working with young black boys. I loved and advocated for those boys. I saw how the world refused to value them. My intent was that they would always know that I saw and respected them even when others chose not to do the same. While I was confident in my ability to support the boys I had not carried in my womb, I was terrified that I would not be able to protect my own. In April I delivered a healthy little boy. The first time he smiled at me the world stopped. It was the most beautiful l moment I had ever experienced. It was then I promised him that I would give him my all. That has been my journey ever since.
Four years later, during my second pregnancy, I was told I was finally having the little girl I saw in my dreams. That wasn’t the case. I gave birth to another precocious brilliant little boy. I couldn’t believe I had two black boys to protect and nurture.
Recently, I have come to understand that it is not a lack of love towards black men, rather the world fears the incredible light our suns possess. Despite the apprehension and anxiety, I have learned to live in this world with my heart on the outside of my body as their mother. As I navigate the waters if black motherhood, I am constantly faced with the terror of knowing not everyone will desire to understand and love them the way I do. My life has been about finding the balance my children need to stand strong and secure in a world threatened by the very strength and power I cherish in them. Being the mother of black boys in the United States requires self- awareness and emotional intelligence that cannot be taught, it can only be experienced. My words this week are for a very specific group, my sisters with black boys. Our sons have come to us because we have the love and balance they need to live in a world that is scared of their gift. The love we have for them is so immense that it fills the gaps where the rest of the world has turned it’s back because it is too much to fully absorb. As we create safe spaces for our boys; we must also cultivate brave spaces where they will thrive and grow from boys to men. That bravery begins with us.
Andi Pyatt is an educator, entrepreneur, wellness professional, and author (Julia Belle) of the new children’s book, Sunflower’s Breath. She holds an undergraduate degree in Psychology/Neuroscience from Williams College and a graduate degree in Health Science from The Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health.
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