<body><div><figure><img src="https://img.particlenews.com/image.php?type=thumbnail_580x000&amp;url=178PLs_0vkrRX5R00" alt="https://img.particlenews.com/image.php?url=178PLs_0vkrRX5R00" width="1920" height="1080" ><figcaption>Black mother and children looking down at camera. </figcaption></figure> A few months ago, the New York Times began circulating <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/C765Ml_RU72/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link" rel="nofollow"> a list of best and worst places to raise children </a> based on <a href="https://wallethub.com/edu/best-cities-for-families/4435" rel="nofollow"> a study </a> by WalletHub. The metric categories were health and safety, education and child care, affordability, socioeconomics and family fun. It was controversial, in part, because among the worst on the list included the Blackest cities in the country. It also, maybe unsurprisingly, skewed southern. It does beg the question of which children and families was this list actually created for? Jackson, Mississippi was one of the cities that made the “worst” list. And it’s no coincidence that Jackson is the <a href="https://www.washingtoninformer.com/americas-10-blackest-cities-revealed-in-new-report/#:~:text=Jackson%2C%20Mississippi%2C%20widely%20regarded%20as,African%20American%20culture%20and%20influence." rel="nofollow"> blackest city </a> in the United States. Not to mention, it is located in the <a href="https://www.census.gov/library/stories/2023/02/state-official-poverty-rates-changed-over-10-years.html" rel="nofollow"> poorest state in the country </a> , a state that has some of the worst <a href="https://www.aecf.org/interactive/databook?l=28" rel="nofollow"> health outcomes </a> for children. However, multiple things can be true at once. Mississippi is not an easy place to raise a family largely due to systemic issues that target Black and poor folks. And also, families are using every resource at their disposal to give their children the best possible life. I grew up and received all of my education in Mississippi. Both my maternal and paternal family have deep roots in this state. Nobody knows this state better than us. And nobody knows what it means to survive here better than us. Our resilience—Black Mississippians—is quite frankly unmatched. I was reminded of that when I learned about the oral history project, <a href="https://operationshoestring.org/operation-shoestring-announces-the-release-of-its-oral-history-project-raising-children-in-jackson/" title="https://operationshoestring.org/operation-shoestring-announces-the-release-of-its-oral-history-project-raising-children-in-jackson/" rel="nofollow"> Raising Children in Central Jackson </a> (RCCJ), largely led by the Black mothers in that community. <blockquote> “The neighborhood that we were focusing on was the neighborhood I was living in at the time. A lot of those people in that neighborhood didn’t have a voice or couldn’t voice their opinion and I feel like that project actually helped with it.” </blockquote> As part of her fellowship at <a href="https://operationshoestring.org/" rel="nofollow"> Operation Shoestring </a> , an organization that provides year-round academic, social and emotional support to children and their families, <a href="https://operationshoestring.org/oral-history-project-with-dr-alison-turner/" rel="nofollow"> Dr. Alison Turner </a> collaborated with community members to create a collection of oral histories documenting the experience of raising children and being raised in Jackson. In Dr. Turner’s own words regarding her experience with the central Jackson community, “Since I came into this project as an academic who is not from this community, I needed to make sure that the project explored what is important to this community— not just to me. In other words, working in collaboration with people who live, work, and play in the communities whose stories make up this oral history collection makes possible a path away from ‘archive taking’ and toward ‘archive making.’” <figure><img src="https://img.particlenews.com/image.php?type=thumbnail_580x000&amp;url=2RseFm_0vkrRX5R00" alt="https://img.particlenews.com/image.php?url=2RseFm_0vkrRX5R00" width="1920" height="1080" ><figcaption>L-R Community meeting; RCCJ parents, Shalaun Davis and Porshia Jordan. </figcaption></figure> Perhaps the most powerful and timely aspect of this project was making space for folks to tell their own stories. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=caJmxHQqnjM" rel="nofollow"> Porshia Jordan </a> , a 32-year-old Jackson native and mother of five, stressed this in regard to her experience with the project. “The neighborhood that we were focusing on was the neighborhood I was living in at the time. A lot of those people in that neighborhood didn’t have a voice or couldn’t voice their opinion and I feel like that project actually helped with it.” Jordan’s comment really gets to the heart of the problem with lists that deem cities like Jackson as essentially “a bad place to live.” It is a type of silencing that extends beyond our capital city to our state and the south as a whole. The RCCJ project allowed parents and others who live in the community to discuss the issues they face with nuance while also highlighting the positives that also exist. For instance, Jordan speaks candidly about community violence and the impact on her children’s ability to safely play outside. Nonetheless, she refuses to let that dictate her children’s future and does so by always encouraging them to show up as their best selves. In addition to being able to tell her story on her own terms, Jordan feels that she gained so much from listening to the stories of other parents, “It helped me more with my parenthood skills also because reading and listening to some of those stories you would have never known what some of those people [and] their kids went through.” <blockquote> "These parents go to the ends of the world for [their children], but because they don’t have a certain financial status, they’re looked at as not good parents, or because they don’t live in the best neighborhood, they’re looked at as a certain way. But it was definitely heartwarming to see how much the parents in this area really love their kids." </blockquote><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h93XRZL-gKM" rel="nofollow"> Kearani Miller </a> , a community member who is originally from Hattiesburg, Mississippi, had similar sentiments as Jordan regarding the project and the importance of it. An alum of Tougaloo College, Miller works as an office manager and after-school teacher at one of the local elementary schools. While Miller doesn’t have children of her own, she found the experience of being interviewed meaningful, “It allowed me the opportunity to reflect, because I don’t necessarily have children, but I work directly with children in this area. And so, a lot of times people [think] ‘you’re not a mom, or you don’t understand’ but we really become attached to the children as well. And so, I think it just kind of opened my eyes . . . whether it’s working with the after-school program or directly with the school, I can still have a major impact in the lives of the kids.” In addition to thinking about her own role in the community, Miller felt like the project really revealed how devoted parents are to their children, despite public perception. “Because this is considered a rough area, a lot of people from the outside looking in, may have the perception that people don’t cherish their children . . . These parents go to the ends of the world for [their children], but because they don’t have a certain financial status, they’re looked at as not good parents, or because they don’t live in the best neighborhood, they’re looked at as a certain way. But it was definitely heartwarming to see how much the parents in this area really love their kids. They absolutely love their children.” What Miller describes is really a hallmark of what holds communities together in Mississippi, especially in economically deprived areas. When I think about the small town I grew up in which is predominantly Black and as of 2022 had a median household income of about $35,000, well <a href="https://data.census.gov/profile/Mississippi?g=040XX00US28" rel="nofollow"> below the state </a> and <a href="https://www.census.gov/library/publications/2023/demo/p60-279.html#:~:text=Highlights,and%20Table%20A%2D1)." rel="nofollow"> national average </a> , I’m reminded of witnessing a similar level of care there. Even if our parents were not able to, there were always grandparents, aunties, uncles, faith leaders and teachers who showed up for children in the community. My hope for those who encounter the RCCJ project is that they’re encouraged to look beyond the “numbers” and consider that real people with real stories live in this area and state that they’re attempting to write-off. Miller also feels these stories can be relatable to people regardless of who they are or where they live, “I just feel like that’s the magic of this project in particular. Because even if you don’t have children, you know somebody that does, or you live next door to [them] or you work with [them]. They’re everywhere. Everybody can relate to that, especially people who are not from there, who may not understand. These are just people trying their best to do right by their children.” </div></body>

Mountain View, CA

NewsBreak

How Black parents in Jackson, MS are taking control of telling their own stories

The resilience behind a powerful oral history project.