Ain’t That A VHIT
By Von C. Howard
Dear Black Boy and Man,
Not around you. Not about you as a problem to be solved. Not through fear, suspicion, stereotypes, or statistics. This is written to remind you of what the world does not always say loudly enough: you are loved, supported, encouraged, and uplifted.
From baby, to child, to teenager, to young adult, to grown man, to senior elder, there is something sacred about the journey of a Black male. Every version of us deserves protection, correction, guidance, accountability, and love.
Too often, Black boys are pushed to grow up before they are fully allowed to be children. Too often, Black men are expected to carry pain without complaint, provide without pause, lead without rest, and survive without anyone asking if we are okay. Our confidence is mislabeled as arrogance. Our pain is mistaken for anger. Our silence is treated as guilt. Our strength is expected, but our humanity is overlooked.
Yet we must never forget who we are.
Though we are often unfairly misunderstood and misrepresented, Black men have been foundational pieces in our families, communities, and in the growth of the United States. Through labor, intellect, courage, faith, creativity, resistance, and leadership, Black men helped build, defend, shape, and push this nation toward promises it once denied us. Alongside Black women, who have carried more than this country has ever fully honored, Black men have stood as fathers, sons, brothers, teachers, workers, business owners, soldiers, mentors, organizers, and protectors.
For that alone, we should stand proud.
Not proud in a way that refuses correction, but proud in a way that remembers our value. Proud enough to reject the lie that we are disposable. Proud enough to walk with purpose. Proud enough to be great in everything we do.
But pride must also lead us to self-examination. Are we showing up for one another, or only speaking about brotherhood when convenient? Are we mentoring our young men, or criticizing from a distance? Are we creating spaces where Black men can talk, heal, pray, learn, and rebuild? Are we teaching our boys to manage anger, respect women, build character, honor God, and value their future?
The struggle is real, but so is our responsibility to each other.
We uplift one another when we speak life before judgment. A Black boy should hear “I believe in you” before the world tells him otherwise. A Black man should hear “I see you, brother” before his pain becomes isolation. Encouragement cannot be reserved for funerals, graduations, awards, or crisis moments. We must affirm each other while we are still here.
We fight for each other when we refuse to let one mistake define a whole life. We fight when we show up at schools, churches, barbershops, community meetings, voting booths, and front porches. We fight when we challenge systems that limit opportunity and habits within ourselves that keep us from growing.
Dear Black Boy and Man, this world may challenge you, but it does not get to define you. You come from greatness. You carry legacy. Your story is still being written.
Stand proud. Stand determined. Stand together. Keep becoming the greatness God placed inside of you.
With love, from one Black male to another.
