An Open Love Letter To My Little Brother
I’m writing this for two reasons: first, you asked me to. Second, I was once a child.
Dear J,
I’m writing this for two reasons: The first, you asked me to tell you what I would do if my child was called nigger, and you asked because you aren’t American. You’re Tanzanian. And 13. And all that you know of my country is from what you’ve seen in movies, or what I’ve shared with you on my most recent trip to visit you and your family in Killimanjaro.
The second: I was once a child who was called nigger for the first time. And when I was that child who was called nigger for the first time, I lived in a sundown town, and the ones I called my parents were both white, because I was legally severed from my mother and purchased by them. And when I was called nigger the first time, I told the woman I called mom- who was my purchaser- immediately, and she said “it’s okay. Go back to work.” And never spoke to me about it again. And it destroyed me because I was made to believe, in that moment, that it was okay. Not that I was called nigger. But that I am a nigger. I had not one person in my life who loved me enough to tell me I wasn’t a nigger. So I’m writing this to you because I love you. I love us. And love is a bastion against white lies.
When you asked me what I would do if my child was called nigger, it was after I had told you the story of when I was just a little older than you and I had been r*ped by a white girl whose father had r*ped her. I only told you that story because here, in Tanzania, you told me that if anybody under the age of 18 has sex it’s called r*pe and the boy can go to prison. And I wanted to tell you that boys can be victims of r*pe too. When I told you that boys can be victims of r*pe you laughed. Like the child you are, you laughed. Not a mean laugh. But the kind of loud and amused laugh that a boy might offer to any man who tells him he was violated. The kind of laugh that is for all intents and purposes, a lair, a hiding place. It’s where you go when you are afraid to be hurt.
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