This is How you Pronounce "Ask"
This is How you Pronounce "Ask"
Because "ax" has some consequences
If you’re new to Raising Myles, Welcome!
I write letters every week to my son, Myles, sharing my journey as a first-time dad and spreading the love I didn't experience myself. If you've been here before, thank you for coming back. If you're new here, I recently celebrated a year of writing letters to him — that's a good place to start.
I decided to dig a little deeper and explore some topics around fatherhood, my own upbringing, and what it means to be raising a Black son. All poems to Myles are open to free subscribers and his Monthly Mylestones too, but I will be paywalling some of these letters and slowly archiving past letters. You can read more about this decision and my thinking in the letter below.
Appreciation time: I want to thank Hillary for upgrading her subscription, joining me on this journey, and supporting me as I save for Myles' college plan. I appreciate you!
The letter today to Myles is inspired by a conversation I had with
about a letter I wrote to Myles about being bald . When I played the podcast episode over again, it brought up a lot of feelings around the way I speak and the cost that sometimes comes with it. If you have sometime, listen to that conversation below.
Dear Myles,
I know three numbers by heart: my social security number, my first phone number, and the cost of one credit when I went to graduate school—$1,398. Yes, I went to the most expensive school on the planet to become a teacher. Believe me when I say this is not a brag nor a flex; I’m in the kind of debt where I have committed it to God. It’s above me now — Sallie Mae and the rest of her friends can take it up with Him.
Some people may call this decision foolish, and part of me wants to agree with them, but at the time, I had generational things on my mind. I wanted to make sure everyone and anyone who came after me on this family tree knew that anything was possible. Too often, “the lack of” decided where I would go, but after getting into this expensive Ivy League, I decided that not only was I worth a seat at that table, but the same God that took care of every leaf on every tree would take care of this debt. Breaking generational curses comes with generational faith.
During my teacher preparation program at