Dear Brother, My Black Brother,
Angie Stone penned the song Black Brother many years ago. When I first heard it, I thought of you, my brother. I want to tell you that you are loved. You are seen. You are important. You are cared about. For many generations, you have had to carry everything on your back while looking for a trusted outlet. Sometimes I have been able to be the shoulder, but I have learned now to slow down in the situation so as not to make matters worse.
I don’t want you to feel like you can’t trust me with your inner thoughts. Please forgive me for the moments that I threw crying in your face and called you weak, when you didn’t have the funds and I called you broke, when I just didn’t understand that you needed a minute to yourself. I just had to get my point across, not allowing you the breathing room that I take when I need it.
Our relationship isn’t all bad, tho. We have learned to smile together, we share in one another’s success, and stand with our backs up against the wall together. We have survived together. They say trauma flows through generations, and baby, we have dealt with it, haven’t we? From the times they sold you off to make more money, or when they dehumanized you in front of everyone to break you. I hated watching that. I hurt when I cared for your broken body.
You are such a warrior, and even warriors need a place to rest and heal. I am that, even when I may not know how to communicate that to you. I want to be that for you; I want to thrive with you. So when society is crowding you and you don’t know which avenue to turn, you have a safe place in me. Let my love be your guiding light. Come, let me wrap you in my arms and hold you ever so gently. I may not be able to take on your every burden, but I can help you carry the load. I can take some things off your back by just being your support system—your rock.
Hey King, you are purposeful. Don’t let anyone make you feel different. I got you!
Love,
Your Black Sista
