The social media “therapists” and self-proclaimed analysts are at it again.
This time, they’re targeting what they call “Black elite” organizations, specifically Jack and Jill of America, Incorporated. The bashing has reached a fever pitch lately, with critics quick to dismiss what they don’t understand — or worse, what they refuse to understand.
But if only they could witness the transformation I’ve seen in my children, and countless others in the organization, they might rethink their judgment.
I joined Jack and Jill for my children. Simple as that. Like so many other mothers raising my kids in the suburbs, my goal was to surround my children with like-minded peers, to expose them to a network that would elevate their sense of self, broaden their horizons and teach them the values of service, leadership and responsibility.
For me, Jack and Jill wasn’t about elitism or the superficiality that critics claim. It was, and is, about giving my children the tools they need to navigate the world as confident, accomplished and compassionate individuals.
What the critics miss — or refuse to acknowledge — is the genuine community Jack and Jill foster. They don’t see how mothers rally around one another in need, offering unwavering support and lifting up each other. I’ve seen the power of that sisterhood firsthand. It’s not about the latest hashtag or viral moment. It’s about building lifelong connections, a network of women who genuinely care for each other, who are there when you need them most — and passing that connection on to our children.
In my time with Jack and Jill, I’ve watched my children grow. They’ve developed leadership skills, learned the value of hard work and had the chance to serve their community in ways that have opened their eyes to the world around them. And yes, these experiences — the ones I’m choosing for them, as a mother — are making a real impact.
But you won’t see that in viral posts from people too busy with their opinions to see the growth I’m talking about. They weren’t at the meetings, the community service events, or the leadership training programs. They don’t know what it’s like to see your child speak confidently in front of a room full of people or lead their peers in service. They won’t see once shy children break out of their shells and be inspired to reach for the stars.
Sure, there are other organizations where my children could have gained those skills — but I chose this one, and elitism had nothing to do with it. Yes, there are other ways my children could be surrounded by Black excellence. Jack and Jill just happen to be the organization I chose. And I chose wisely.
Though my children have graduated out, I am proud to have raised them in Jack and Jill. Not because of the criticisms or assumptions thrown around by outsiders, but because I’ve seen how this organization has enriched my family. This isn’t a privilege — it’s a blessing.
And it’s not just us who benefit. Jack and Jill span 271 chapters, representing over 50,000 families and works tirelessly to make a lasting impact in communities across the nation.
Yes, it costs money to join the organization — just like it costs money to buy that new car, take a girlfriend’s trip to the Maldives or spend thousands on the latest hairstyle. We all choose where to spend our money, and that’s not for anyone to judge. I just wish people would stop judging those of us who choose to invest in our children.
So, while others continue to sit behind their screens, passing judgment, I’ll continue to nurture my children in the way I see fit. I’ll continue to surround them with a network that fosters their growth, gives them the tools to succeed and teaches them the value of community, family and service. And when they stand tall as confident, compassionate leaders one day, I’ll know it was all worth it.
