(ThyBlackMan.com) I am writing this as a Black father speaking plainly, honestly, and without filters. Not as a soundbite. Not as a political slogan. And not as something designed to fit neatly into either side of a culture war. I am writing from lived experience and from the quiet thoughts many Black men have but rarely say out loud.
When the phrase pro life comes up in Black spaces, people often tense up. Some shut down immediately. Others assume it means judgment, control, or disrespect toward Black women. But from where I stand as a Black man and a father, the question of life cannot be reduced to ideology. It is deeply personal. It touches masculinity, responsibility, grief, economics, history, trauma, and the future of Black people as a whole.
We cannot talk about being pro life in the Black community without acknowledging that Black life has always been under threat. Long before abortion debates, our ancestors were treated as property, our children sold away, our families broken by force. The destruction of Black family structure did not begin in modern America. It began the moment Black men were denied the right to protect their wives and children, denied ownership of their labor, and denied recognition as fathers in the eyes of the law.
That historical wound still bleeds today.
In modern America, Black people make up a small percentage of the population but experience a massive share of early death, incarceration, poverty, and loss. According to public health data, Black women account for more than one third of abortions in the United States. This is not because Black women value life less. It is because Black communities often face economic instability, limited access to quality health care, higher rates of chronic stress, and fewer structural supports for family stability.
But there is another truth that must be faced. Black men are too often absent from the conversation entirely. Not because we do not matter, but because we have been told we do not.
When a Black child is conceived, a Black man is involved whether acknowledged or not. When that life ends before birth, a Black man is affected whether allowed to grieve or not. Yet society often treats Black men as irrelevant to both outcomes. That erasure is dangerous.
As a Black father, I believe being pro life means restoring the moral weight of fatherhood. It means acknowledging that creating life carries responsibility beyond pleasure, beyond convenience, beyond fear. Too many of us were raised without models of present, nurturing fatherhood. Not because Black men do not love their children, but because systems have repeatedly removed us from them. Prison policies, employment discrimination, housing instability, and family court systems have made it harder for Black men to remain intact within families.
Over time, many Black men internalized the idea that fatherhood is optional or accidental. That mindset feeds directly into how pregnancy is viewed. Children become problems to solve rather than lives to protect.
Research consistently shows that father presence matters deeply. Children with engaged fathers are less likely to experience behavioral problems, substance abuse, and incarceration. Black boys with present fathers are more likely to finish school and less likely to be criminalized. Black girls with present fathers show higher self esteem and lower rates of early sexual activity. These are not moral arguments. They are documented outcomes.
When abortion becomes normalized as a routine solution rather than a last resort, it reinforces the idea that Black fathers are unnecessary. It sends a quiet message that Black male responsibility begins and ends at conception. That message damages men and children alike.
This does not mean ignoring the very real fears surrounding pregnancy. Economic pressure is one of the most powerful forces shaping decisions. Black men know what it feels like to worry about providing. Many of us watched our fathers struggle under the weight of expectations without support. Many of us were told explicitly or implicitly that a man without money is not a man at all.
That belief pushes fear into the center of decision making. Fear of not being enough. Fear of repeating cycles. Fear of failure.
But fatherhood is not only financial. Presence matters. Emotional stability matters. Protection matters. Guidance matters. A man does not need to be perfect to be necessary.
There is also the emotional side of abortion that Black men are rarely allowed to discuss. Many Black men carry quiet grief. Some never knew about the pregnancy until it was over. Some felt pressured to stay silent. Some were told their feelings did not matter. But loss leaves a mark whether acknowledged or not.
Unprocessed grief often turns into detachment. Avoidance. Fear of commitment. Emotional shutdown. These patterns ripple through relationships and communities. When Black men are excluded from conversations about life and death, healing becomes harder.
Another layer that cannot be ignored is historical distrust. Black communities are aware that population control has been a recurring theme in American history. From forced sterilizations to discriminatory public health policies, Black reproduction has often been treated as a problem to manage rather than a future to nurture. While modern health care providers may not share those intentions, the legacy shapes perception and deserves honest discussion.
Being pro life in the Black community must include critical awareness. It must include asking who benefits when Black birth rates decline while others are encouraged to grow and preserve lineage. These are not conspiracy theories. They are historical patterns.
At the same time, being pro life cannot mean abandoning compassion. Condemnation without support is not protection of life. It is control. Black women face disproportionately high maternal mortality rates. Many navigate pregnancy under stress levels that affect physical health. Any serious commitment to life must include better prenatal care, mental health support, economic opportunity, and protection for mothers.
Black men have a role here too. Supporting life means supporting the women who carry it. That includes emotional presence, accountability, and partnership. It also means advocating for systems that do not punish poverty or fracture families through bureaucratic indifference.
Sex education must also be part of this conversation. Silence does not prevent pregnancy. Shame does not build responsibility. Young Black men need honest education about sex, consent, and consequence. Masculinity cannot continue to be defined by conquest. That definition harms women and leaves men unprepared for the responsibilities they create.
Teaching Black boys to value life includes teaching them to value restraint, communication, and long term thinking. A man who respects life respects himself.
Faith communities have a role as well. Many Black families are rooted in spiritual traditions that affirm the sacredness of life. But faith must be paired with action. Preaching without support pushes people away. Mentorship matters. Real examples matter. Black men who are present fathers must be visible, vocal, and willing to guide younger men without judgment.
At its core, being pro life from a Black father’s perspective is about reclaiming agency. It is about refusing to accept narratives that portray Black men as disposable, dangerous, or unnecessary. It is about choosing responsibility in a society that profits from our absence.
This is not an easy stance. It requires honesty about our failures and courage to change patterns. It requires standing up when it would be easier to disappear. It requires seeing children not as interruptions but as legacy.
Black fatherhood is one of the most powerful tools of resistance we have. Loving, protecting, and guiding life in a world that often devalues it is revolutionary. Being pro life is not about politics for me. It is about survival. It is about future generations. It is about choosing life not just at birth but every day afterward.
When Black men step fully into fatherhood, we change the trajectory of families, communities, and history itself. Life deserves that commitment.
Staff Writer; L.L. McKenna
Politics explained through the lens of justice and equity. Offering perspective that informs, challenges, and empowers.
One can contact this brother at; LLMcKenna@ThyBlackMan.com.
