Austin and Tommie's marriage
I'm Still HereAustin and Tommie's marriage joins ordinary intimacy to the work of keeping one another safe. Their relationship appears in small, repeated acts—a hug before a drive, a promise to call, a check-in when Austin arrives and when she leaves—as well as in the conversations through which they imagine becoming parents. The book sets these gestures against the racialized risks they fear for one another and their son: their love is not an escape from that danger, but one way they answer it together.
Shared Life and Everyday Care
Austin describes Tommie as her husband and presents their care for each other through specific routines rather than grand declarations. When he travels to visit his parents, he must drive two hours across Michigan and then make the same journey back. Austin tries not to picture him being pulled over or frisked, or his anger rising in an encounter with police. She also tries not to transfer that anxiety to him. The fear is real, but so is the effort to keep it from governing the exchange between them.
Before he leaves, Austin hugs Tommie and asks him to be safe. She asks him to promise he will come back to her; he answers that he will be fine and call when he arrives. She nods and smiles, pretending to feel reassured. The exchange holds both partners’ positions in view: Austin voices the danger she cannot simply dismiss, while Tommie offers a concrete assurance and a plan to call. Her outward smile does not erase the fear; it marks the distance between the comfort she wants and the danger she is trying not to imagine.
The check-ins recur when Austin is out with white friends. She calls Tommie when she arrives and again when she is leaving. Her friends sometimes exchange amused looks, interpreting the calls as a sign that the couple is inseparable or that Tommie is demanding. Austin understands the practice differently: it is one of their rituals for staying safe in the world. The contrast matters. What can look from the outside like dependence or excessive attachment is, in her account, a shared response to risks her friends do not necessarily read into an ordinary outing.
Fear and the Conditions of Their Bond
Austin’s vigilance is connected to a wider, accumulated fear for Black family members. She recalls fearing that her father might not return from work in rural Ohio, that her brother’s intellect would not prevent others from assuming he was a criminal, and that Tommie might be mistaken for someone else. The account does not make Tommie’s journey an isolated worry: it places the couple’s calls within a larger pattern of concern about how Black people may be perceived and treated in public.
That pattern reaches into Austin’s anticipation of motherhood. She writes that once her son is no longer hidden in her womb, she will not be able to protect him as she can before birth. The fear of what the outside world may presume about him therefore belongs to the couple’s emerging family life, not to a conflict between Austin and Tommie. They have not yet had the conversations they know they will need about racial slurs, police stops, and the assumptions attached to their child’s skin. Their delay is described as an avoidance of painful subjects, not as ignorance of what lies ahead.
Becoming Parents
During pregnancy, Austin and Tommie repeatedly imagine who their child might become. Tommie hopes to show him his favorite films and wonders whether the boy will enjoy horror movies. Austin imagines taking him to the park and seeing the world anew through his eyes. Together they wonder about his eyes, laugh, toes, and temperament; Tommie already looks forward to taking him to the barbershop for his first taper. These details give their anticipation a physical and domestic scale, from the sound of a laugh to a future haircut.
Austin describes the baby as weighing only two pounds and his kicks as flutters. The couple’s conversations are turning them into parents, she says, because they are beginning to wonder more about his future than their own. Their delight in his possible interests and personality sits beside their knowledge that others may first see him as beautiful and innocent, then later regard him as dangerous as he grows. They expect to be there to refute those lies and remind him that he deserves joy, love, and adventure. The promise is not that they can control how the world sees their son, but that he will not face that judgment without his parents’ affirmation.
Home, Black Love, and the Future
Austin imagines their home as a place made by shared pleasures and family traditions: dancing, laughter, soul food, Stevie, Michael Jackson’s dance moves, and staying up late to watch the NBA finals with his father. She also makes room for tears; family life will not be joyful every moment. This vision does not present domestic happiness as a denial of racial danger. Instead, the home is where their son can be welcomed into what Austin calls Black Love, a source of grounding, encouragement, warmth, and knowledge of who he is.
The marriage thus becomes part of the protection Austin hopes to give their child. She acknowledges that pregnancy offers a protection she cannot preserve after he is born, but the family they are preparing to build offers another kind of shelter: affection, shared memories, and repeated reminders of his worth. Austin ends her letter looking forward to meeting him while admitting that she and Tommie are both frightened and excited. Their relationship’s significance lies in that unresolved combination. They cannot promise a world without danger, but they can make their care visible in the rituals of the present and in the loving home they intend to create.


