On a day shortly before the 2024 election, I was picking up my children from school. As my older child was finishing basketball practice, my younger child made his usual plea to buy his favorite Icee.
“Mama, can I have an Icee? Please!” he whined, tugging at my bag. Reluctantly, I handed him a few bills. “Thanks for the Icee!” he said with his big toothy smile as he dashed to the sidewalk.
Watching him run away, I felt anxious. He’s still my baby, even though he’s in third grade.
From where I stood, he looked confident and strong. But those dollar bills were flapping around in his hand, reminding me to tell him to keep his money in his pocket. It wasn’t just about the bills; it hit me hard that as the mother of Black boys, my worries for their future will never really vanish — especially with everything happening in our country today.
Before I became a parent, I thought I’d raise my children with the same firmness that my West Indian teachers used at the small Episcopalian elementary school I attended in Brooklyn, N.Y. They were quick to discipline and had high expectations for us. I figured being strict would help prepare Black children for a world that rarely sees them as innocent — but that was before I became a mother, feeling the heavy responsibility of raising Black boys.
The effects of racism aren’t just for the history books. Black Americans carry the weight of discrimination and injustice from those before us, determined not to pass that trauma on to our children. No matter how hard I try, being their parent often feels like a tough balancing act. I feel caught between protecting them from the harsh realities of life in this country and giving them the opportunities to make mistakes and learn.
As a mother, physician and health equity advocate, I have seen how our health care system affects Black children, who often face longer wait times in emergency rooms, higher chances of being diagnosed incorrectly and a greater risk of not surviving through their first year of life. These health outcomes are connected to wider issues, including education.
For example, a report from the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation found that Black boys face systemic bias in schools. Misunderstandings about their behavior in preschool can lead to harsh punishments, robbing them of their chance to learn and play. By middle school, harmful stereotypes can lead to them being excluded from gifted programs, hurting their confidence and interest in school. The Supreme Court’s 2023 ruling on affirmative action in college admissions will likely limit opportunities for Black students in fields such as medicine and law.
A recent study showed that cuts to diversity, equity and inclusion programs under the Trump administration have led to serious funding drops for important initiatives aimed at closing the gap in racial health outcomes. The National Institute on Minority Health and Health Disparities took the biggest hit, losing almost 30 percent of its funding. Weakening these health programs ultimately puts our lives at risk.
As I sat there watching my younger son enjoy his Icee, I felt the weight of my responsibility — not just for my kids, but for all kids who will live in the world we create. That world can feel hostile, especially given the recent anti-DEI backlash.
I am reminded daily that there is much work left to do.
Our actions today matter for Black children’s futures. Challenges in education and health care must be addressed. If we want to make a real difference for our children, we must be intentional about where to focus our advocacy.
We must support race-conscious policies, prioritizing those that tackle the systemic inequities affecting education and health care. Americans can contact their local representatives and tell them that these programs are crucial for improving outcomes for Black children. We should encourage lawmakers to develop programs that provide Black students with fair access to advanced classes and academic support, while also pushing school boards to adopt equitable discipline policies.
We must fight to fund health care systems that focus on the needs of underrepresented communities, directly addressing racial health inequities. We must be innovative about securing continued funding for the work of agencies like the National Institute on Minority Health and Health Disparities to keep critical health programs for Black children.
We can illuminate the issues that Black children face by raising our voices. This is about the future of our children, who deserve a shot at success. It’s time for us to focus on creating environments where all children, especially Black children, can thrive. We all share this responsibility — and need to act before it’s too late.
Uché Blackstock, M.D., is the founder and chief advisor of Advancing Health Equity, a strategic health equity consulting firm. She is the author of “Legacy: A Black Physician Reckons with Racism in Medicine” and an ambassador for the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation National Racial Equity Initiative Taskforce.