What My 8-Year Old Son Taught Me About Racism

This week my family participated in a peaceful protest in our small community of Castro Valley, CA. As thousands of others across the nation — and across the world — we did this to stand in solidarity with our black brothers and sisters to say that we are tired of centuries of injustice, hatred, and outright violence against them. Equally important, we agreed as a family that it is not enough to say we are not racist. We must stand up against racism. We must be #Anti-racist.

My 8-year old son, whom we nicknamed “Tico” from birth, was puzzled by the protests. Now Tico is a very inquisitive boy. He can tell you everything about the big bang, how and why gophers are messing up our backyard, and about why the sky turns from blue to black every day.

But this week Tico asked me questions about racism. And it reminded me how uncomfortable these conversations are. But I also appreciated that this would be a very important lesson for him as a human being.

In the protest, he saw several of our fellow protestors displaying: “We are tired of living in Fear” and he asked me “why are so many people living in fear?”

I shared with him for the first time that I grew up living fear most of my young life. My father and mother immigrated to the United States from Mexico and El Salvador, respectively. My father was deported back to Mexico once and it devastated our family. It took us almost two years to gather up the resources and network to bring him back again. And once again he came back illegally.

But things were never the same. For the rest of their lives, my parents lived in fear. It is the reason why my father never flew on a plane and never dropped me off at the airport — even on the day I left home to go to college. He was concerned that INS would be rounding up immigrants at the airport or if he was pulled over for any reason — a routine stop would turn into another deportation.

I shared this with my son for a couple of reasons:

First, I wanted to contextualize what living in fear meant to my son. I asked my son to take my experience and multiply that fear factor by 1,000. That is what our black brothers and sisters live with. Fear of getting over-incarcerated, humiliated, and — as we saw with the gut-wrenching murder of George Floyd — even killed.

“No dad, 1,000 is not enough. You need to multiply that by 1 million at least. They are living in fear of their lives. You got to see your father again. But George’s family won’t see him again.”
-Tico

Second, I shared with my son that my fear ultimately led to shame, something I have never confessed before. I am ashamed that I didn’t do more for my parents while they were still alive. Both my parents passed away without becoming US Citizens. I was blessed to become the first in my family to go to college and ended up working in some of the largest, most reputable companies in the world. But no matter what I accomplished personally; I could never eliminate the fear that my parents lived with.

“Dad, you don’t need to be ashamed — you are just one person. You can’t do it on your own. I am sure others felt like you. Why didn’t you guys team up or something?”
-Tico

At this point, I was a little teary-eyed. But my son interrupted my self-reflection with another question: “Dad why are they chanting Black Lives Matter? Don’t All Lives Matter?” I responded that of course all lives matter. But the point is that we can’t diminish the pain that our black brothers and sisters are going through.

We need to emphasize the systematic racism and violence that is disproportionately targeting black lives in America. We need to acknowledge that from the early days of our country (and even before that) racism has killed, disenfranchised, and destroyed millions of lives in our black communities. We need to be intentional and root out this silent, and sometimes not-so-silent, killer.

“Wow, dad. That’s worse than the Coronavirus. I hope we can find a vaccine for that too.”
-Tico

And that’s where my lesson concluded. But somehow I don’t feel that I was the teacher in this exchange. It was the other way around. I want to share what my 8-year-old son taught me about racism:

1. No matter how much we try to contextualize what our black brothers and sisters continue to live through, we can’t. This is a time to listen to their pain and amplify their voice. This is a time to join them in a unified cry to stop systematic racism. To show that we won’t be innocent bystanders — but actively engage with them in a fight for equality. If we want to help our black community, we must be Anti-racist.
2. Racists are not born, they are made. It took a few minutes for my 8-year-old son, who did not have a full grasp of racism, to understand how evil it is. Families all across the country should take this opportunity to teach kids about the negative impact of racism and also instill in our youth the importance of voicing their views against it in their daily lives, through civic engagement — from activism to voting.
3. Racism is a pandemic. There is a clear urgency to find a vaccine against COVID-19. Those efforts should be applauded. But we need to apply that same sense of urgency to rooting out the systematic racism and discrimination that we see at all layers of society. Racism is a virus. And we can stop it from spreading. We need to ensure that those that spread this virus are accountable, whether you are in law enforcement, politics, positions of power in Corporate America, or a citizen that chooses to “weaponize” racism.
4. If you feel ashamed or powerless, don’t. You are not alone. The worst you can do is fail to act. And your actions do matter. Join the thousands of people, corporations, and non-profits in a unified stance against hate. Small wins can add up to a tremendous victory. As for me:

• I am a father and I will embrace the tough conversations around racism and injustice with my children to ensure that they are equipped to call out injustices when they see them.
• I am a global citizen and I will support non-profit organizations that fight for equality — including those organizations like INROADS, SEO, HSF, and The Achievement Awards Program that supported people of color like myself get through college and beyond. There are countless other amazing organizations fighting for equality across education, health, politics, and more.
• I am a venture capitalist and I will continue the fight for equal access to capital at LEAP Partners. Entrepreneurship is still one of the most promising and impactful ways to build wealth. But sadly, only 1 percent of all venture capital goes to our black and brown founders, who often lack the network to access the right forms of capital. I am proud to see recent announcements from Softbank and Andreesen Horowitz committing to support founders of colors. I look forward to seeing more join the fight.

This is not the time to stay silent. This is the time to act. Support our black communities with your voice, your time, and your resources. Just like we are all doing our part to stop the spread of COVID-19, we can all do our part to stop the spread of racism. That’s what my 8-year-old son taught me.