In the wake of the populist discord that delivered presidential victory to a man who personally funded a public campaign against five wrongly accused black teenagers, the installation of Attorney General Jeff Sessions—whose civil rights record inspired an impassioned warning from the widow of Martin Luther King Jr.—and the appointment of white nationalist Steve Bannon as Chief White House Strategist, facilitating media literacy with our teenage children has taken on renewed patriotic urgency.

As a mother of teenagers, it is emotionally difficult to write about Jordan Edwards. But as a white mother of white teenagers, it’s my duty to say his name—and help my kids decipher the media messages surrounding his death.

On April 29, 2017, Jordan Edwards—an unarmed, black, 15-year-old high school freshman—was shot dead by a police officer as he left a party in Balch Springs, TX. Underscoring the tragedy is how the media characterizes Jordan as a star football player, a great student, from a loving family, and popular with kids and teachers alike.

On the surface, it seems entirely appropriate to eulogize Jordan Edwards this way—praising him and his family for the wonderful young man that he was. We should mourn this senselessness, celebrate his life, and support his family in their time of need.

But let’s not stop there. Black families know the subtext here already, weary eyes open to the daily reality of living in a country with the unresolved legacy of slavery and systemic racism that results in unequal access to education, healthcare, and disproportionate levels of poverty and rates of incarceration for people of color.

By focusing on his upstanding character, we are seduced into an old and tired narrative that blames black people for their own victimization. Is his life worth more because he wasn’t a juvenile delinquent? Is his death more tragic because he came from a good family? On the flip side, do young black kids with criminal histories deserve less sympathy from the public?

The missing piece in the mainstream narrative around Jordan Edwards’ death is that the historical legacy of systemic racism that produces ‘thugs’ is the exact same legacy that took a ‘nice’ black boy away from us too soon.

Don’t let Jordan’s flawless character obfuscate the opportunity to talk to your kids about what Jordan Edward’s death really is: the unsurprising outcome of a criminal justice system that perpetrates a disproportionate level of violence against people of color.

I am not suggesting a young man’s death be reduced to a teachable moment, however Jordan Edwards’ name should be on the lips of every teen sitting at the dinner table with their families this week. The loss of young black lives is a moral outrage. Allies with teens need to have these conversations with their kids now.  

We all must say his name—and start the difficult work of unpacking his death and charting a course towards healing. Real criminal justice reform in synch with the values we hold dear in 2017 will only be possible if we can help our kids see things from a more critical perspective.

So, please. Talk to your kids about Jordan Edwards. Talk to them about systemic racism and the legacy of slavery (a great place to start is Ava DuVernay’s documentary film 13th on Netflix now).