Ain’t Nothin’ Like a Brother
By Mrs. Cheryl Rainey, Contributing Writer
I love the way a Black man looks, the panther-like way he moves, and the richness of his voice. I love the heartiness of a brother’s laugh and the way cologne smells on a Black man. Nobody sings, dances, or plays the saxophone like a Black man. From Bishop Richard Allen to my pastor, the Rev. James C. Bailey, nobody preaches like a Black man. I write this because we don’t express enough appreciation for the fact that there ain’t nothin’ like a brother.
I grew up in a family of strong men. It was such a secure feeling to be able to “go tell my daddy.” My maternal grandfather sat at the head of the Thanksgiving table and got the first choice of the drumsticks. My Uncle Red took us to the show and Riverview. Uncle Bernard’s sense of humor-based discipline never included a raised voice or a belt. My husband Michael has sacrificed and loved me unconditionally, even when I didn’t love myself.
We live in a country where Black men are killed and locked up for sport. They are called beasts and animals. They are depicted as a danger to society. Accepting these lies as truth results in foolish statements like “I can do bad all by myself” and “All men are dogs.” Well, who wants to do bad, alone or with someone? Sisters, we don’t want to call the men we love and the sons we bear, “dogs.” Think of the implication.
I’ve done more than hold my own when I’ve had to but I am not ashamed to say that I didn’t wait to exhale all those times I knew my husband had it. I breathed more freely because the weight was not fully on me and I didn’t have to be the fixer. I know I am not alone when I say that being that earthly and last resort can lead to exhaustion and depression.
While our hurts, frustrations, and fears might have some of our sisters expressing anger toward Black men, brothers, please know that we love you. We miss you. We need you. I feel safe and protected by the Black men in our churches and neighborhoods. I appreciate the strength and energy of the young men in their 20s and 30s who have stepped into positions of leadership. They are fearlessly seeking truth and demanding justice, just as they honor and protect women and children.
I thank God for the blessing that is the Black man because ain’t nothing like a brother. I wrote this for David and Leon.
Cheryl A Rainey is a Chicago-based entrepreneur, writer, speaker, and presenter. She attends St. Stephen AME Church. She can be followed on Facebook at Cheryl A. Rainey.
