An extract from:
Why I Am a Male Feminist
The word turns off a lot of men (insert snarky comment about man-hating feminazis here) — and women. But here’s why black men should be embracing the “f” word.
When I was a little boy, my mother and father used to argue a lot. Some mornings, I would wake up to the alarming sound of my parents arguing loudly. The disagreement would continue until my father would yell with finality, “That is it! I’m not talking about this anymore!” The dispute would end right there. My mother never got the last word.
My dad’s yelling made me shrink in fear; I wanted to do something to make him stop raging against my mother. In those moments, I felt powerless because I was too small to confront my father. I learned early that he had an unfair advantage because of his gender. His size, strength and power intimidated my mother. I never saw my father hit her, but I did witness how injurious his verbal jabs could be when they landed on my mom’s psyche.
My father didn’t always mistreat my mother, but when he did, I identified with her pain, not his bullying. When he hurt her, he hurt me, too. My mother and I had a special bond. She was funny, smart, loving and beautiful. She was a great listener who made me feel special and important.
And whenever the going got tough, she was my rock and my foundation.