In Hilton Als’ The New Yorker article, “My Mother’s Dreams for Her Son, and All Black Children,” he writes about his plight as a Black man growing up in New York. Als takes this time to recollect memories of his childhood and criticize the life that he lived in silence.

Towards the beginning of his article, Als writes, “Standing by my mother’s living-room window, I tried, tentatively, to ask her why our world was burning, burning. She gave me a forbidding look: Boy, be quiet so you can survive, her eyes seemed to say.” Als touches upon one of the first times where his mother curbs his curiosity and tells him to be silent for his own good. All his mother wanted was for her family to be safe, and she did anything at whatever cost. Even though she constantly moved her family around different neighborhoods, Als’ mother still made it imperative that her children knew the importance of silence. With silence, Als and his family thought that they would be safe.

Later on, in the article, he writes, “Like any number of black boys in those neighborhoods, I grew up in a matrilineal society, where I had been taught the power—the necessity—of silence.” Once again, Als refers to his mother’s greatest teaching: keeping silent in the face of conflict. This time, however, he mentions other black boys in his neighborhood who were taught the same silence by their mothers. By doing this, Als shows that this teaching of silence is not only relevant to his family but many other black families in his neighborhood. This reality of silence is even more heartbreaking because it was something that found its way into many black families near him. How many people had this idea of giving up their voice for survival instilled in them?

What I found truly striking about this article was when Als wrote, “Every act of racism is a deeply personal act with an end result: the unmooring diminishment of the person who is its target.” Like Als puts it, racism is not accidental—it is purely intentional and always laced with poison to hurt the receiver. Even the smallest actions that Als includes in his long list of racial encounters were intentional. By growing up as a person told to live in silence, dealing with racism and prejudice definitely had to take a toll on Als. Instead of speaking out against the blatant racism that he faced, Als internalized it because he was taught to deal with it quietly. Dealing with racist remarks takes a heavy toll on the person it is projected towards because, as Als puts it, those remarks are made to hurt. At some point, I feel that silencing your voice appeases the oppressor and pacifies the situation in the short run. There comes a time where these attacks become too much and voices can no longer be silent. Als realizes this. By the end of the article, he understands the detriments of silence and finally uses his voice in these powerful words: “Was it worth it, Ma?”