If You Keep Making That Face, It’ll Stay That Way—And Maybe It Should
Parenting wisdom is all fun and games until your kid turns into a logic machine set on dismantling every lesson you’ve ever taught. Case in point: the classic, “If you keep making that face, it’ll stay that way.”
My son has been side-eyeing that one since he was little. And to be fair, I get it. Your face isn’t actually going to freeze mid-eye-roll. It’s more of a playful warning—what it’s really saying is: if you keep reacting or behaving a certain way, it could become a habit. If you always frown, people might start to see you as grumpy. If you constantly roll your eyes, folks will assume you have no patience for nonsense. (Which, fair.)
When I explained this to him, he flipped it right on its head. “Well, maybe it should stay that way. If you need to make a face to prove a point, why would you stop?”
Touché. And as an advocate, I’ve learned the hard way that he’s not wrong.
Why My Face May Just Stay That Way
I’ll admit, I don’t have much of a poker face.
My thoughts march across my expression as clear as closed captions—complete with italics for dramatic effect. Sure, I try to soften my tone and adjust my delivery so it doesn’t scream, “Are you serious right now?” before I’ve even finished speaking. But here’s the truth I’ve been an involved parent for a hot minute now and it doesn’t seem to matter how carefully I phrase my words or control my expressions.
When it comes to standing up for Black kids in schools, the problem isn’t how we’re asking—it’s that we’re asking at all.
If we’re calm, we’re ignored. If we’re firm, we’re called aggressive. If we follow the rules, the rules suddenly change. It’s like playing a game where the goalposts keep moving.
So maybe instead of searching for the right face to make, we should keep making the one that reflects exactly how we feel. Maybe it’s okay if our expressions—our anger, frustration, and determination—leave a lasting impression. Because trying to figure out the right face is exhausting.
When Making a Face Gets Results
There was one time when school board trustees tried to strip “offensive” words—like “anti-Black racism”—from the anti-racism policy. Yes, you read that right.
Let’s pause for effect.
This policy had been years in the making, backed by recent research vetted by lawyers, educators, and actual anti-racism experts in the school district. But that didn’t stop a group of trustees—none of whom had those qualifications—from deciding that, actually, “anti-Black racism” was a bit much.
So yeah, we made faces. And we used our voices. Parents mobilized, spoke up loudly, and got the language reinstated. And then we kept going. Several parents ran as trustees and won.
Now, for the first time, our board has two Black trustees. They’re all alone in the province, but that’s a discussion for another day.
When Our Faces Were “Too Much”
Then there was the time I stood in front of the school board on behalf of community members, calmly presenting data on anti-Black racism and asking the board for policy change that local Black families felt would do more to address the crisis.
When I finished, a Black student in the audience broke down in tears, sharing her experiences of racism in the school board. How even as a school leader, she faced constant othering and saw her fellow students face unfair treatment, and when she sought help, she was ignored.
But instead of addressing the issues I raised with children’s experiences, or applauding parental involvement leaders in the school board decided the real problem was… me.
Cue the closed-door meeting, where I was given what I can only describe as ten verbal lashes. None of my fact-based, data-driven concerns were acknowledged. Nor did anyone mention the mental health impacts of the institutional racism on Black youth in the board. Instead, I was scolded, made to feel as though my ask meant I was unappreciative of and ignorant to the work they had done.
Meanwhile, through this adult tantrum, I’m sitting there thinking: Did we watch the same delegation? Because the only person that was—or should have been—crying was the Black student.
The Goldilocks Problem: Too Angry, Too Calm, Never Just Right
No matter what face we wear, it’s never really the “right” one. No matter how we show up, it’s probably never going to be the right way.
Too calm? Dismissed.
Too firm? Aggressive.
Too polite? Ignored.
Too direct? A problem.
It’s like the system wants us to find the perfect Goldilocks approach. But spoiler alert – when you’re trying to challenge the status quo there is no “just right” approach.
Advocating for Our Kids Isn’t the Same as Being “Difficult”
If I ask my kid one time to clean his room and he doesn’t, I might repeat myself calmly. By ask number five, I’m less calm. By ask number fifteen, I’m giving a full TED Talk on responsibility while threatening to throw away every single thing on the floor.
I don’t care what kind of parent you started out as the first time you ask—by ask number fifteen, that Mom is gone and you turn into your mother real quick.
Now imagine parents of black children have been asking for years—generations, actually—for school leaders to show us how they’ve addressed racist discipline and school policies. Over many years parents ask what progress school administrators have made to hire more Black teachers, or address racial bias. After lauding the anti-racist work they’ve done and staff training they’ve taken, we ask schools to give evidence that streaming no longer disproportionately pushes Black students out of advanced courses or the educational system. And instead of meaningful answers, school staff keep smiling and pointing to the “positive change” they have made. Or – worst – try to placate you by assuring you they “understand your frustration.”
The whole “angry Black parent” trope? It’s just another way to make us feel like we’re the problem—instead of acknowledging that the problem is the problem.
The Solution? Be as Unbothered as Our Kids
I take so many lessons from my kids. And I know for damn sure our kids do not concern themselves with whether we find their arguments reasonable. They do not care if we think they are being too much. They will ask for what they need, as many times as it takes.
That’s exactly the energy we need to bring to these conversations with schools.
Because at the end of the day, the school system isn’t afraid of our anger. It’s as unbothered as a teenager who hears “Clean your room” for the first time.
So keep using your words. Keep asking the same questions. Keep bringing more parents into the room. No one else gets to decide when we have asked enough. We do.
And most importantly, stop worrying about how you ask. #Stayunbothered.
Because if they wanted us to speak differently, they could have listened the first time.
Make the face. Let it stay that way. Leave a lasting impression.
If your Face is Stuck that Way, You’re in the Right Place
If you’ve been out here, making the face—the one that says, “I see through the nonsense,” the one that refuses to be pacified with empty words and half-measures—you’re in the right place. Because we need that face.
We need it in school meetings where they pretend they’ve never heard of anti-Black racism.
We need it when policies are written to sound progressive but act regressive.
We need it when they ask, “Do we really need to focus on race?” as if racial identity wasn’t a thing long before George Floyd and we haven’t been proving why it is indeed about race for decades.
So if your face is stuck too, wear it proudly. Sign up below for our monthly newsletter and grab the Parenting Advocacy Toolkit—because we’re not just making faces. We’re making change.
And speaking of…
Up Next: “He Who Will Not Hear Will Feel!”
A staple of Black parenting wisdom, Black parents know this saying well: when people don’t listen, they eventually feel the consequences. But when schools ignore us? It’s our kids who feel it first – whether that’s in low engagement, lower academic achievement or outright racial violence.
This next piece is all about why we need to trust our instincts, keep asking the hard questions, and refuse to be distracted by the shiny stuff. Because when we keep showing up, listening stops being optional.
