Motherhood and the Motherland
Motherhood always comes with questions, but raising children in the African diaspora adds even more questions: How do I teach them where they’re from while helping them thrive where they are? I still remember the first time I held my son and daughter and proudly told the nurse their names: Kwame and Abena. These aren’t just beautiful names I’ve always loved; they carry meaning. In Ghanaian culture, Kwame is given to boys born on Saturday; Abena, to girls born on Tuesday.
As an African-American woman married to Augustus, a Ghanaian man, I understand how important it is for his children, our children, to feel rooted in their heritage. Over time, I’ve come to see our home as more than a place to rest. It’s a living bridge between two rich cultures. And as a stay-at-home mom, my job isn’t just nap times and snack breaks, but it’s about planting seeds of identity, pride, and resilience.
Passing Down Culture at Home
Raising diaspora kids means they often live in two worlds at once: The world of their mother—shaped by American culture—and the world inside our home, shaped by the rich heritage that they inherit from their father. As a mom, I’m constantly standing in the middle of those worlds—guiding, translating, weaving them together.
I see it every Sunday when Kwame proudly wears his kente-print outfit to church, walking in with colors and patterns that carry generations of meaning. Right beside him, Abena’s little kente dress turns just as many heads. While other kids run around in polos and tiny sneakers, mine walk in wrapped in culture, history, and love. It’s a small moment, but for me, it reflects something much bigger: Our children are learning to bring their heritage with them wherever they go.
I hope that my children grow up not feeling split between cultures, but whole—proud of where they come from, and confident in where they’re going.
Rooted in Joy, Raised in Power
When my youngest first picked up a doll with brown skin and curly hair, she hugged it tight without hesitation. It might seem small, but to me, it meant she felt at home in her own skin. That’s why our shelves are filled with books by Black authors, dolls with natural hair, and cartoons that celebrate cultural differences. It takes extra intention—but I know I’m planting seeds of confidence and self-love.
As cliché as it may sound, I want my children to believe there’s nothing they can’t do. And like most parents, I hope they grow up smarter, braver, and more brilliant than I ever was as a child. That means embracing where they come from—not being weighed down by our family’s past, but lifted by the strength it took to survive it. Our history isn’t a burden—it’s a source of power.
In a world that often tries to define us by struggle, I make sure our home overflows—with laughter, with dance parties, with soft places to land. Just the other morning, my 3-year-old told Siri to play music, and Afrobeats filled the living room. He grabbed his baby sister’s hand and shouted, “Come on, let’s dance!” They twirled in their pajamas, shrieking and giggling, tumbling over each other in pure delight.
No holiday. No special occasion. Just pure joy filled the room —loud, free, and completely theirs.
Raising Black children isn’t just about preserving the past. It’s about building a future where their joy isn’t explained or earned—it’s expected. It’s limitless.
Diamond Jones joined the FunTimes family as an intern while earning her Bachelor’s degree from Temple University. After graduating in 2018, Diamond decided to stay with FunTimes continuing her role as a writer and content creator for social media. In addition to writing, she also enjoys reading, traveling, and art. Working at a magazine has always been a dream. As a child, she would collect and study popular entertainment publications such as Word Up and Teen Vogue. Diamond hopes to continue to create content that will inspire and entertain.
