A letter to a little boy in a scary world.

letter to a little boy in a scary world.

In the light of the George Zimmerman trial over the death of Trayvon Martin, I can’t help but feel sick that we live in a world where race is still an issue, where religion is an issue, where sexual-orientation is still an issue. What a world for our kids to grow up in. 

All I can offer is this: A letter to that little brown boy. A letter to my Jewish son. A letter to the obese kid. A letter to the transgendered child. A letter to that weird kid who makes funny noises….

A letter to a little boy in a scary world.

Dear Little Innocent Boy,

As you sit there, playing with Lego and imagining the giant things you’re going to build, I sit here and I watch you. Your hands are so sure, your face set in grim determination as you work. If I could ascribe a colour to you, it would most definitely be azure blue. Because that’s the colour of the sky and that’s what I see in your eyes – endless possibilities. 

When I look at you, I see kindness. I see a heart that contains such a capacity for love that if love had mass, you would have to be a giant to hold it all in. You give generously with no hesitation, not because you’ve been taught but because you’re compelled to. You don’t DO kind things. You ARE kind. 

When I look at you, I see anxiety. I see you worry about little things that are gargantuan in your mind. Your fears are so real and in them I see your vulnerability. Because you have no idea of the real monsters out there. You are so little, so innocent.

When I look at you, I see strength. Your body is strong, yes, but it’s in your character that I see your strength shine. I see it in your daily struggles with reading, as the tears glisten like pearls in the corners of your eyes, yet you still continue on. I see it in the twelve torn up pieces of paper with angry scrawls in your rubbish bin the morning after you’ve presented me with a flawless letter of love.

When I look at you, I see possibilities. I see a young boy with a brave heart, a gentle nature, a determined spirit and an astounding mind. 

What do you see when you look in the mirror? I bet you see some things I don’t see. I’m sure you’re surprised by some of what I see. 

I want you to know that, out there in the world, people are going to look at you. They are going to look at you but not all of them will see you.

The lucky ones who see you as I do will live in a world that’s a little brighter for the light you shine on it.

The others, the ones who look at you and see their own fears and demons – they aren’t really seeing you at all. They will look at you and see a picture projected on you by the reel of their own ugly minds. So, they will see an ugly picture and  – I’m sorry – they will treat you as though you’re the ugliness they see. 

My little boy, that’s their picture. It’s not you.

Those people will never see the beauty that you put into the world because they refuse to. That’s their problem and frankly, their loss.

Do not ever define yourself by someone else’s description of you – not even mine.

Go take a good look at yourself in the mirror. Know who you are. Say out loud that you are generous, loving, intelligent, strong and brave. Then go out into the world and live with your head held high. Paint such a magnificent picture on your life’s canvas that no matter what ugliness others may project on to you, nobody could possibly believe them.

You are not a black boy, a fat boy, a disabled boy, a nerdy boy, a Jew, an Autistic boy.

You are a boy.

A boy with a huge life ahead, a blank canvas, infinite possibilities and the incredible power to paint your own masterpiece.

You are loved.



My friend, Keesha Beckford of Mom’s New Stage posted this piece today after the Trayvon Martin verdict. Please go read it because her message needs to be heard and her anguish shouldn’t go unchecked.


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About They Call Me Mummy

Hi there and thank you for visiting They Call Me Mummy! Let me introduce myself. I am a copywriter with some shiny awards and 18 years’ experience in the advertising industry. Now that I have three highly entertaining and thoroughly demanding little people calling me Mummy and keeping my feet firmly planted on the ground, I work as a freelance writer. Being a stay at home mother is the toughest job I've ever done and one I struggle with daily. My hope is that by sharing my less-than-perfect parenting moments, struggles with identity as someone other than The Mother and the often laugh-out-loud chaos that my Adult ADHD brings to my life, They Call Me Mummy can be a place where other imperfect parents can come to exhale and say, "me too." They Call Me Mummy has been honoured with many awards, making me a very proud mama of this bouncing blog baby of mine. Most notably, I was honoured as a Voice of the Year by BlogHer in 2013 (“Inspiration” category) and again in 2014 ("Heart" category). This blog captures my life. Sometimes warm & fuzzy, often shriek-out-loud funny. Either way, you may need a Kleenex or two. In my spare time (between 1am and 6am) I've been writing a series of children's books, which are going to knock your socks off. Your kids are going to adore them, so watch this space. Come chat with me on Social Media via Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter, LinkedIn and Instagram.

Posted on J July, 2013, in Bullying, Family, Gratitude, Life, Parenting, Politics, Self-esteem, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 16 Comments.

  1. Beautiful my friend! xo


  2. Uhm, wow! You are right on!


  3. Such a powerful letter for ANY child — that they should know they are worthy, and not feel like they are defined by how they look.


  4. This is amazing! It is so important to instill confidence in our children so they may hold their head high and know that no matter what other people say, they are truly loved.

    Thank you for sharing this.
    Missy Bell (over from the UBC)


  5. Life is difficult and I know from personal experience discrimination can have lasting affects on a child. It is important as parents to give our children as balanced a view as possible. I still cling to the belief that race, colour, and creed will become irrelevant and we will be judged by character and actions. Instilling your own fears into the child is counter-productive and detrimental to their well-being. There will always be casualties from the actions of lunatics but life is a lottery and we can only hope it is not our child who becomes a victim. For those unfortunates touched by loss I extend my deepest sympathies and hope they find peace.


  6. sandinmytoestk

    That’s a beautiful letter. I often wonder how I’m going to teach my son about this dangerous world we have created, and I’m at a loss.


  7. You’ve made me cry. As I read this, I kept stealing glances over at my two boys, currently busy setting up their own world via Pokemon cards and pennies. Excitedly talking about the new game they are creating, arguing over the rules.

    And I wonder, how will it be years from now?


  8. I’m sorry but are you saying that because me and my brother are white that we won’t be hurt? That is actually quite racist and I don’t like it. Everyone needs to know that the world is not a nice place and that everyone can get hurt. It about learning to fend yourself. Sweet words and parent’s love can do nothing to help when you’re walking home form school as a fifth grader and are raped.


    • Hi Sami, thanks for taking the time to comment here. I most certainly am not saying that white kids can’t get hurt. Quite the contrary in fact. I prefaced my letter with “All I can offer is this: A letter to Keesha’s little boy. A letter to my Jewish son. A letter to the obese kid. A letter to that weird kid who makes funny noises….” – clearly I am speaking to all little boys or any race, colour, religion and demographic. This world is scary, no matter who you are. It is also exciting and chock-full of the wonder that you can infuse into it and discover within it. Sadly, I agree with you, a parent’s love and sweet words can’t protect a child (oh, how I wish the could!) but I do hope that my words live in my children’s hearts and that they will live in yours and that you will know that there is a world of beauty inside you and that, as a vulnerable child, you are precious to me. Wishing you love.


  9. I think this is great, thank you very much. You’re right on point 🙂


  1. Pingback: Why I let my kids fight. | They call me Mummy

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