Chance Formore

“Black men don’t protect Black women.” And every time I hear it, I shake my head because I believe Black women deserve protection. They absolutely do but because the conversation leaves out the other side of what protection really means.

What is protection?

Protection isn’t just about showing up when fists are flying or when someone disrespects you in public. It starts before the danger ever comes. It’s guiding you, and helping you avoid the situation in the first place. Here’s the truth, when Black men try to give that kind of counsel, it gets rejected.

Advice to your sister, “Don’t hang out there, it’s dangerous,” and she’ll snap back, “You’re not my father.” Tell your mother something for her own safety, and she’ll say, “You’re my son, not the boss of me.” Even when the advice is solid, the reaction is often emotional: “You’re trying to control me” or “You’re just being an asshole.”

Think about it. How can I protect you if you won’t listen to me? If I know the risks of certain environments and you don’t because I’ve lived them. I’ve been tested in them and you ignore me, what happens next?

The danger comes, and suddenly, now I’m expected to put my life on the line to save you from something I warned you about.

That’s not protection, that’s suicide on demand.

Understand Our Position

Understand this men know that protection often means dying. That’s the weight we carry. If I’m going to carry that weight, I need you to trust my direction before the worst happens. Otherwise, you’re not protecting me in return. You’re putting me in a position where I only lose.

So no, the idea that “Black men don’t protect Black women” isn’t true. We try to guide, try to warn and try to prevent. But protection requires cooperation. If you won’t hear me when I’m speaking life into you, don’t say I failed you when danger comes.

Real protection is a partnership, not a one-sided sacrifice.