Hi beloved,

As Mother’s Day approaches, I'm sharing some content that has to do with a concept called Mothering While Black.

It’s based on a book by Dawn Marie Dow.

Put simply, mothering is hard.

It requires tremendous energy and incredible sacrifice.  

But Black mothering is even harder.

It's a much steeper climb.

And for the sake of their children... Black mothers have to keep climbing.

No matter how tired they are. 

No matter how heavy their legs and heart may feel.

They can't give up no matter what... because they're a Black mother and people are depending on them.

Few poets have captured that struggle better than Langston Hughes in his poem, Mother to Son.

So that's our treat for this week.  

Enjoy, and then... reflect.

Mother to Son

Well, son, I’ll tell you: 

Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
 

It’s had tacks in it,
 

And splinters,
 

And boards torn up,
 

And places with no carpet on the floor—
 

Bare;
 

But all the time
 

I’se been a’climbin’ on,
 

And reachin’ landin’s,
 

And turnin’ corners, 
 

And sometimes goin’ in the dark, 
 

Where there ain’t been no light.
 

So boy, don’t you turn back;
 

Don’t you sit down on the steps, 
 

Cause you finds it’s kinder hard;
 

Don’t you fall now—
 

For I’se still goin’, honey,
 

I’se still climbin’,
 

And life for me... ain’t been no crystal stair. 

Langston Hughes (1901 - 1967)

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If you are and would like to share "Mother to Son by Langston Hughes" with a friend, you can by simply forwarding this email.  

Once again, thank you for taking this journey with your fellow readers. 

It's just one lesson from the greatest story never told. 

If you have a story of your own that you'd like to share, send it to me at the email address below. I'd love to hear it.

Or, if you have comments, expressions, or feedback... feel free to hit me up at b.johnson@ethnicexpressions.com

Until next time,

Brian