The opening story in “Eight Men,” Richard Wright’s 1961 collection of short stories, is called “The Man Who Was Almost A Man.” Dave, the teenaged son of sharecroppers, is convinced that the one thing that he needs to be respected by the other hands in the fields is a pistol at his side. “One of these days he was going to get a gun and practice shooting,” Wright writes, “then they couldn’t talk to him as though he were a little boy.”

One doesn’t need to dig deep to see what Wright is getting at. In this country, manhood is often defined as the power to hurt, the power to kill. It doesn’t take boys long to learn that holding a gun is a way to project themselves as bigger and badder. Nobody can disrespect you or treat you as less than a man if you’re holding a gun.

Why was 12-year-old Tamir Rice playing with a realistic looking air gun at Cudell Recreation Center five years ago? Because American boys are indoctrinated to want guns and to think of them as a symbol of their impending manhood. If you’ve ever watched “A Christmas Story,” then you already know this. It’s not a coincidence that a character who is routinely bullied spends most of the movie imagining himself as invincible with a gun – even with a BB gun.

What a cruel twist of fate it is for black boys to be raised in a country where guns are presented as a physical representation of manhood, but also where black boys and men who possess guns risk being shot on sight. Was Tamir supposed to think of himself as different from any other American boy? Was he supposed to see himself as a menace, see himself as a threat, and avoid the kinds of fun that generations of boys his age have been taught to have? It’s not likely that a child his age would pause to think about the gap that exists between who he is and who others would perceive him to be.

In 2014, the same year that then-Cleveland police officer Timothy Loehmann shot Tamir dead, a paper called “The Essence of Innocence: Consequences of Dehumanizing Black Children” was published in the American Psychological Association’s Journal of Personality and Social Psychology. “The social category ‘children’ defines a group of individuals who are perceived to be distinct, with essential characteristics including innocence and the need for protection,” the paper begins. But, the researchers, continued, “We find converging evidence that Black boys are seen as older and less innocent and that they prompt a less essential conception of childhood than do their White same-age peers.”

Tamir was 12. The person who called 911 told a dispatcher there was a “guy with a pistol” outside the rec center. He also said that the gun was “probably fake” and that the guy was “probably a juvenile.” But that part of the witness’ call was not relayed to the responding officers. The dispatcher’s failure to pass along that information doesn’t change the fact that Tamir was very much a boy and that, as the witness guessed, the gun he possessed wasn’t a lethal weapon.

Even so, Loehmann fired his weapon twice in a confrontation that was over in less than two seconds.

In August, I found myself in a conversation with a retired Army man who helps lead a club of black gun owners. Three days before, a gunman had killed 22 people and injured 24 at an El Paso Walmart and two days before, a Dayton gunman had killed 10 people and injured 27. But this gentleman was adamantly opposed to red-flag laws that would allow the courts to take away weapons from those exhibiting disturbing and potentially violent behavior. He wasn’t convinced that such a process could be made fair. Also, he expressed disappointment at what he called a pervasive fear of weapons that keeps many black people from exercising their Second Amendment rights.

To the extent that black people are afraid of carrying weapons, it’s likely not a fear of the weapons themselves. It’s likely the fear of being reflexively perceived as a threat. John Crawford was shot dead in a Beavercreek, Ohio, Walmart for holding an air rifle he found on a shelf at the store. Tamir was shot dead for playing with an air pistol in public. Motorist Philando Castile told a Minnesota police officer he had a gun in his car and a permit to carry it, but then he was shot dead following the officer’s command to reach for his ID. Last Thanksgiving in Hoover, Ala., 21-year-old Emantic Bradford, somebody the NRA might call a “good guy with a gun,” pulled out his weapon after another man opened fire in a crowded mall. A private autopsy found that Bradford was shot three times from behind.

Crawford’s, Tamir’s and Castile’s and Bradford’s names came to mind when the gun club leader argued that black people are afraid of guns. Two months after we talked, Atatiana Jefferson heard a noise in her Fort Worth, Texas, yard. It was after 2:30 a.m., and she went to the window with a gun. A police officer sent to her house on a welfare check saw her appear at the window and shot her dead.

So the problem is bigger than a single boy in a Cleveland park acting tough with a pretend weapon. The problem is bigger than Cleveland. Our country idolizes guns, and the NRA and its allies are trying to force us to get used to guns everywhere.

Everywhere, that is, except in black hands.

Jarvis DeBerry is a columnist at Cleveland.com and a member of the editorial board. Reach him at jdeberry@cleveland.com or on Twitter at @jarvisdeberry.