Mother Tree

We call my mother the reinforcer. 
See my father imposes a law and my mother reinforces. 
This tag team duo taught me everything I know. 
When my father would impose a rule my mother with head down would simply nod in agreement.
As a child, I looked at my parents union as the most beautiful rendition of god's love.
But as I grew, I began to see the cracks in the foundation.

See, my mother taught me that a woman's posture was everything.
You see my mother has this thing about posture. She says that women should stand tall, sturdy and possess the grace and elegance of a tree. Yes, a tree. At a very young age, my mother had taught me an important rule. To survive, never look a person in the eye. This as a black woman was especially important because to look a man in the eyes was to question his power, authority, and status over me. 

As a young girl I would sit upright, shoulders back eyes down, just like my mother. Just as my mother like her mother before her spoon fed me the rules a good woman should learn to abide by. 
I had grown to live by these rules, in fact, I was proud of my ability to walk anywhere without making eye contact with a single person. I Had learned to do this especially well when in the presence of men. Reminding myself each time that eye contact made me a quick and much weaker target.

It wasn’t until was 16 that I learned that the backbone to the women I had learned to admire was broken. Bent to no return, after years and years of submission, self-hate, and dis-empowerment under societies expectations. I learned that my mother was not the reinforcer but the tree that had been cut down to size, for man's need.

As my mother grows large from spoon feeding herself lies of worthlessness; I work to rebuild her branches with self-confidence, I water the soil with self-love, and I expand her roots through words of encouragement, so her eyes learn to look up. And maybe, that way she too can stand tall sturdy and possess the grace and elegance of a tree.