When I was seventeen, my father and I didn’t have the best relationship; but we still spent one afternoon having “the talk.” My high school best friend’s old man sat my buddy and me down to have “the talk” one night before we left for a party. I’m guessing that he wasn’t sure my dad and I had it. The two conversations were eerily similar.
Two days ago I had the talk with my nephew. Admittedly it was a couple of years past due but I suppose there was a a subconscious wish on my part that I could dodge the role of having “the talk.” When he told me about a recent experience, I knew I had no choice.
“Refugee Nephew, after what you just told me, we have to talk about something. This is extremely important and I need you to pay attention to me – it’s not an exaggeration to say that your life could depend on you remembering this. The next time you get pulled over for Driving While Black, you need to do the following…”
That was one of the saddest moments of my life, and I pray that he never has to give that speech one day.