A Mother’s Day reflection
My pursuit of Viola Davis’s skin tone continues. I am on the deck looking East. CA poppies are abundant below on the terraced backyard yard. Trails from planes streak the sky above with their paths visible long past when they are in sight.
It’s mid morning.
I’ve been thinking a bit about what it means to be safe - physically, emotionally and intellectually. In what ways does one’s inner safety serve as the source of that safety - be it perceived or realized? And how does this translate to home?
Why is it I feel safe in a world that is unraveling and where my existence is repeatedly declared expendable?
June 1967. I am about 6 months old, sitting on my mom’s lap. We are at my grandparents house on Fairlawn Street in Pittsburgh, PA.
This brought me to thinking about my mom. And the gift of safety she gave me which grounds how I move through the world. My dad gave me other gifts.
I grew up protected. Not sheltered but very much aware of how the world would see me and thus what I should do (or not do) to be seen or heard. Being seen or heard =/ safe. Not an unfamiliar concept for Black children. Thank you slavery.
I was often the only. I had access to all sorts of experiences growing up where my Blackness was not perceived as a limitation to my possibilities. Nor was my gender or sex. To be clear I was always and remain keenly aware of when I am wanted or in danger and make choices accordingly.
I started working at 8 or so and although I received an allowance I made my own money and had a bank account at a young age. I still have the passbook filled with dimes totaling $3.00. These early experiences also shape my relationship to and with money.
As I aged, more choices were available and always with intentional boundary setting. For instance, I really wanted to go to the University of Va. I got in and my mom would not let me go. She rightly knew that my Main Line ways would clash below the Mason Dixon line. That was a rough summer - I spent it at Rehoboth Beach - and then went to the University of Maryland, College Park. I eventually graduated from Temple University.
At each developmental milestone, my mother gave me enough space to fly without getting caught in the jet stream that would crush my wings.
That gift of intentional boundary setting nurtured my internal sense of safety - all expressions.
I connect more readily with those in their 30’s/40’s likely because they are (and have been allowed to be) more open, expressive and intersectional. It is a joy to be around them to be honest. There is a safety with them that I cherish because I think they accept more of all the me that exists and continues to unfold.
Back to mom.
Thanks to her I find myself being more of the me I will be, regardless of how the world wishes to restrain and contain me.
Thanks mom. I love you.
Written May, 9 2021
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About The Author:
Jara Dean-Coffey (jdc) is Founder and Director of the Equitable Evaluation Initiative and the Founder of Luminare Group. For the past twenty-five years, she has partnered with clients and colleagues to elevate their collective understanding of the relationship between values, context, strategy and evaluation and shifting our practices so that they are more fully in service of equity. For more about musings + machinations click here.
