Our Families Are Worth Fighting For #WeWontWait2016

This week I was invited to Washington DC as a delegate of Moms Rising to attend #WeWontWait2016, a nonpartisan, national movement of women speaking on issues that impact families from the kitchen table to the voting booth. The summit engages “whole person politics” because they know Americans don’t vote on single issues. We Won’t Wait connects single issue organizations in conversations on ways to create a whole economy and whole democracy that serves all families. Moms Rising is one of those amazing organizations and I am honored by their belief in me.

Every Mother Is An Activist…

When Trayvon Martin was shot dead in 2012, my baby boy wasn’t yet born. By the time his killer’s trial ended in 2013, my parenting and motherhood would be forever changed. An awakening in me had started to take place that could never be undone. Because raising a black boy in America proved to be a matter of life or death and, as his mother, I couldn’t wait for those who stayed masked in their privilege to say something.

Taking in all the messages, statistics and action plans during #WeWontWait2016 has been overwhelming, but none more heart wrenching than the voices of the Mothers of the Movement during Monday night’s vigil in Freedom Plaza (you can watch the whole event on Mom’s Rising’s Facebook Live). We heard from Sandra Bland’s sister, Tamir Rice’s mother (a 12 year old shot in the park with a toy gun because he “looked like an adult”), the heart wrenching pleas of Jordan Davis’ mother as she takes on her state’s government for common sense gun laws. It was emotional, to say the very least.

Being reminded of these realities trumps everything. All votes. All alliances. All sense of loyalty to family, friends, culture, creed or language. Because as I watched the mother of Jordan Davis mourn for her son in front of my eyes – as she gave testament of his humanity – I realized, yet again, that I can’t wait until I’m standing on that podium to speak out against the ails of our society. This rhetoric of fear is destroying real American families….

And our families are worth fighting for.

… Starting At Our Kitchen Tables

So here I am, just another mom to two happy, brown babies who live in complete ignorance to the ugliest parts of our world. We live in middle class America, with a mortgage and tax-paying jobs. My babies don’t know racism; they won’t hear the stories I’ll tell my husband when I get home from this trip.

But what about when they’re adolescents? I can’t promise that my son won’t sag his pants or play rap music obscenely loud. I can’t say for sure if my daughter won’t attend a pool party and have the nerve speak out towards a police offer. I’m trying my best to raise them – I promise I am – but you know how teenagers can be. You know how 12 years like to play in parks or walk to the store to buy candy. Of course you do. You’re a mother, too.

But all this activism and policy stuff can get very overwhelming. I totally get you! Sometimes I feel as though one single mother cannot possibly do her part to expect better from her environment…. to create a safe place for her babies to grow. But we can! We are more powerful than we know.

My #WeWontWait2016 Action Plan

In recent years, I’ve pushed the boundaries of my relationships with close friends and family…. I’ve made things extremely uncomfortable, bringing up issues of racism, calling out our privilege and losing ties with those who couldn’t reconcile my open stance against these issues. I’ve made emotional phone calls to my mother, father and brother, demanding their ear and discussing their personal votes, because that’s what family gets to do. I’ve opened doors of conversation to friends, hoping to shed light on what it’s like to watch a black man live his life, and though I don’t have all the answers, I can at least share my story. Some of them are still around. Others aren’t.

Even still, I am horribly imperfect. I have so, so much more to learn. So, here are my #WeWontWait2016 takeaways and modest action steps…

1. Listen and learn: Continue to assess and come to terms with my privilege as a Latina mom and more fully understand how that impacts my motherhood to black children.
2. Kitchen table conversations: Continue to talk with the members of my community to help humanize the reality of racism. I also want to have more courage in telling our personal stories with racism, too (because ya’ll have no idea).
3. Vote: Because I am an American citizen, a privilege my grandparents bestowed on me as immigrants, and I don’t take that lightly.

Our Families Are Worth It

Not only that, our country is worth it. My grandparents left Cuba decades ago to give their children a better life and I know they found it here. My children deserve a bright, successful future and your children deserve one too. But we have some work to do to make that a possibility for all lives, especially black ones.

Racism is a cancer for each of us and I’m no doctor, but man… we can’t just stand here without trying anything. Will you join me in taking these issues to your kitchen table?

And if ever you want to chat or vent or speak candidly, from one multiracial mother to another, my door is always open.

Con amor,

Vanessa