Raising a Black son was a puzzle I had no clue how to solve.
I think the root of the issue lay in my strong belief that our family only “made girls”. I already had a daughter and a lineage skewed towards girls. My husband and I were utterly convinced we were having another girl. So, when we found out we were pregnant with our second child, we didn’t need to “find out” the baby’s sex.
Imagine the scene: in the delivery room, at 10 cm dilation, sweaty and ready to welcome our little one. Our doctor pauses and playfully asks us if we’d like to “bet” on the gender. My husband cheerfully exclaims “No need – it’s a girl!”. Thankfully, he responded for us both. I was too busy sweating, grunting, and giving the doctor side-eye. Because really sir, was this the time for small talk, bets and guessing games?
Anyway.
Fast forward to boyhood – my son is everything and nothing I expected. There is no manual for this journey. Raising children is a learning curve. Specifically, it feels like being tossed into the deep end of the pool with only basic swimming skills.
Life is a whole crash course on raising a Black son
While I’m familiar with the special concerns of Black parents of all children, I can’t deny that I feel there is a special pressure placed on those raising Black sons. In many ways, this pressure differs from the traditional demands of parenthood.
I stay on a mission to nurture my son’s humanity, wisdom, humour, and greatness, all while offering unwavering support.
My lofty goal is to raise a son who embodies my father, husband, and favourite uncles all in one. One who embraces Black culture despite growing up exposed to a lot of white spaces.
There is also the complication of building self-esteem in this race-conscious world we live in. I never lose sight that we raise Black boys in a world that may not embrace their greatness.
Or their humanity.
Or their basic human rights.
When it comes to sons, a Black parent needs to ensure we help them see all the things.
As I watch my baby boy grow, surpass me in height and stand at nearly six feet tall, I am mindful of how the world sees Black teen boys. And the fates of some boys when society conveniently mistakes them for grown men. I rarely put out of my mind the number of young Black men who are added to the Blacklist. I understand the ways institutionalized racism in our education, justice and healthcare systems play a role in my children’s lives.
From his first steps to the first time he encountered mall security tailing him, life has been a crash course for both of us. I feel pressure to prepare him for the complexities of masculinity and to navigate daunting issues like racial and sexual identity, resilience and so much more.
And of course, I am not sure I have any clue how to do this.
Essential Advice on Raising a Black Son
And that’s why I am grateful for the magic of these exceptional books.
None of us have all the answers. As a certified book-lover, it’s sort of my go-to move to turn to books when I’m looking for practical advice.
From this small list of books, I ended up finding perspective-informing wisdom, sometimes from unlikely sources.
These are not your typical “parenting manuals” written by physicians, psychologists or social workers. They do not necessarily offer a stage-by-stage review of a child or how they should develop. And some of them definitely won’t seem like your typical Black parenting book. Particularly since some of these extraordinary books are written by folks to don’t even have children.
These books may not be traditional recommendations, but I feel they are parenting guides. They are brimming with priceless guidance for today’s parents raising Black sons.
Bursting with humour, grace, and wisdom, these books offer essential knowledge. They are for any parent on this incredible journey of raising a Black son.
Before I get into it, in the name of transparency, please note that this post contains affiliate links. Purchases made through these links may result in a small commission for me. Parenting While Black intentionally features Black and BIPOC-owned products.
Born A Crime, by Trevor Noah: The heartfelt thank-you letter every mom dreams her son would write
Trevor Noah is pretty much the son many of us hope to raise! What kept me reading Born a Crime was his humour, historical perspective, and deep reverence for his upbringing.
What I loved:
With a few shoutouts to Aunties and grandmothers who played integral roles in his life, many parts of the book read like a love letter Trevor wrote to his mother. The story of Trevor’s humble beginnings, raised by a single Black mother and growing up during the turbulent times following the end of Apartheid captured me. Reading about this and his mother’s journey gave insight into how to break generational curses.
I read this book like it was a tip sheet on what kind of mothering makes a Trevor. I paid particular attention when Trevor discussed the advice his mother gave him. Often thinking of taking notes to ensure I didn’t miss any nuggets of wisdom. I wanted to understand the kind of parenting that created someone with such insightful intelligence and deep respect for Black women. Those raising biracial children may also find this book an important read. Trevor’s perspective on having been born a crime lends itself to meaningful discussions throughout the book about identity. His voice offers a much-needed perspective on the complexities of Black identity.
I have often wondered what I wish for my kids more – that they don’t know that the world isn’t ready for them, or they don’t care. This book paints a picture of both. A young man painfully aware of the brutalities inflicted on someone of his identity and carefully equipped by his mother to move past them.
Born a Crime’s Essential Wisdom for Raising Black sons:
My mom raised me as if there were no limitations on where I could go or what I could do. When I look back I realize she raised me like a white kid – not white culturally, but in the sense of believing that the world was my oyster, that I should speak up for myself, that my ideas and thoughts and decisions mattered.
– Trevor Noah, Born A Crime
All Boys Aren’t Blue: Lessons on the power of Black family love
What I loved:
All boys aren’t Blue tells so many stories about family, love, sexuality, identity, and social justice. But what touched me most was how this book tackles an even more challenging task.All Boys Aren’t Blue brought into the light Black family love at its finest.
Now, I know this is not the book’s main premise or purpose by far, but I welcomed Johnson’s portrayal of a Black family. This family’s story served as a thorough guide on how Black parents can not merely love their children but hold space for all identities by uplifting and protecting them. The book depicted so much more than allyship. It conveyed the strength of brotherhood and grandmotherly love. Its stories were a comprehensive guide showing readers what affirming support looks like from Aunties and cousins. This Black family’s nurturing space for its LGBTQIAP+ members tells a story rarely shared about Black families.
Wisdom from All Boys Aren’t Blue that make this a must-read for Black parents:
I swim anyway. Every single morning, I put on my goggles and dive right into the deep end of racism, homophobia and every other oppression that is thrown my way. There just don’t seem to be enough Little Ralls, Rasuls, and Nannys in the world willing to reach their hand into the water to pull us to safety. Too many watch in silence while others in the community suppress Black queer people. One day the choice must be made by all; are you teaching people how to swim or are you letting them drown?
– George M. Johnson, All Boys Aren’t Blue
I Wish My Dad: The Power of Vulnerable Conversations between Fathers and Sons
Romal Tune’s vivid and honest storytelling creates a powerful connection, as if Tune is right there, sharing his life story across the table.
What I loved:
From the first moment I started reading I Wish My Dad, I was drawn into Romal Tune’s deeply personal narrative. The emotion and vulnerability in his writing make it incredibly relatable.
What sets this book apart for me is its unique focus on fathers and sons. As Tune points out, this cohort rarely gets invited to engage in conversations that bring them together to discuss their feelings. The collection of conversations tackles topics and shares wisdom in a way that feels deeply rooted in honesty, courage and healing.
In reflecting on the book, I found myself contemplating how to parent my son in a way that might free him from society’s restrictive and unhealthy ideas of manhood.
Healing wisdom from ‘I Wish my Dad’:
I pray that you find healing where you need it and offer your children the opportunity to heal if they need it. I pray that you surrender to love and experience it fully so that you can offer it to others. There’s a saying that “you only live once,” but that’s not true. You live every day, and you only die once. Use this one life to thrive, love, hug, cry, laugh, and be free.
– Romal Tune, I wish my Dad
Raising Confident Black Kids, rooted in love of Black children
M.J. Fievre encourages parents of Black children to instill the confidence they need to thrive.
What I loved:
In Raising Confident Black Kids Ms. Fievre offers an honest exploration of the very real reasons some Black parents struggle with discussing race with their children. She acknowledges the desire some parents may have to avoid these conversations. That some believe the conversation unnecessary or fear that acknowledging racism will make their child into its victims. However, through in-depth research, she discusses the profound ways racism can impact not only our children but also us as parents. She offers practical advice on acknowledging systemic racism by empowering children to address it.
The book delves into generational trauma, the effects of racism on mental health, and the pervasive issue of colorism, providing a comprehensive perspective on the unique challenges of parenting Black children. Ms. Fievre doesn’t shy away from bold conversations, making this book a truly essential read for Black parents. It serves as a vital resource, equipping us with the knowledge and tools to raise confident, resilient, and empowered Black kids in a world that often fails to recognize their worth.
Wisdom from Raising Confident Black Kids:
Perhaps the boldest step you can take and the greatest contribution you can make toward tearing [the system of racism] down, is to raise a child who knows their worth and is strong enough to continue the work of building something better for the future.
– M.J. Fievre
When I still had questions, bell hooks and The Will to Change: men, masculinity, and love gave me the answers
What I loved:
Whew. There were so many layers of complexity to The Will to Change. This book sat on my heart and expanded my mind, it challenged me to re-examine my notions of boyhood and manhood. I’ll be honest at some points I had to take a deep breath. I had to re-read pieces after the tingly sensation subsided. The depths of hooks’ insights are powerful, but so is the calling to sit with her words and take a first step towards unpacking my role in patriarchy.
As a mother raising a Black son, I read the book exploring my ideas, “rules” and perspectives of men, manliness, and masculinity. the will to change is a powerful guide. It challenges readers to tackle topics and ideas that trap not only our sons but also us as parents. bell hooks’ words and approach simply wrapped me in awareness.
I loved that The Will to Change softly, firmly demanded that I change. I felt like I had to not only think about important issues but also seek out and support ways to avoid toxic and harmful stereotypes of masculinity. hooks’ wisdom made it seem possible for parents to choose to guide their sons toward healthier, whole and more authentic expressions of masculinity. Its profound advice suggests only that I remain deeply invested in love.
Essential wisdom found in The Will to Change:
To create loving men, we must love males. Loving maleness is different from praising and rewarding males for living up to sexist-defined notions of male identity. Caring about men because of what they do for us is not the same as loving males for simply being. When we love maleness, we extend our love whether males are performing or not.
― bell hooks, The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love
There is an art to raising a Black son
When I dove into this journey of raising a son, I was wading into uncharted waters. Truth be told, I’m still riding those waves of uncertainty.
From navigating delivery room bets to wrangling motherhood, raising a Black son has all been an adventure. But amid this whirlwind, books like these incredible reads are my compass, reminding me that my dreams for my son aren’t as far out as they seem.
Sure, raising a Black son who has “it all”—respect for all, a strong self-identity, and the finesse to tackle masculinity’s twists—is like a masterpiece in progress. There is no compilation of comprehensive advice awaiting those raising Black sons. But reading these great books felt like I had patient mentors whispering, “You got this” even when I know I’m winging it. They became an indispensable resource assuring me that the transformative journey of raising a Black son takes a little humour and a lot of empathy.
So let’s take this ride together. Share in the comments any good book you’ve read that turned out to be unexpected sources of parenting wisdom – whether you are raising a Black son or not. Dive into the Parenting While Black community for more insights, straight from us, for us.
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