“A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots.”
It’s February so you know what that means… It is time to celebrate Black History Month! 28 days of Blackness everywhere, in schools, on tv, online, on social media, on streaming platforms, this is the one month of all Black everything. I am 45 and I am still not sure how I feel about that. Let me pause right here and say that it is ok if you love it, it’s ok if you hate it, it’s ok if you don’t know how to feel about it. I get what Carter G. Woodson and Jesse E. Moorland were going for back in 1926 when they created “Negro History Week” during the second week of February to coincide with the birthdays of Frederick Douglass and Abraham Lincoln (Black History Month became a month long-celebration in 1976). But still, it has never quite sat right in my spirit. Black history is American history so we should learn it all year round in any history class not just as a special elective in Africana Studies. But then there’s the argument that there is no White history month so there should not be a Black one. In America, all history has been white American history since the country’s founding. We are supposed to know better now so we must continue to intentionally highlight the contributions and experiences of the multitude of cultures that make up this nation. Contrary to what gets said a lot, America has never been just Black & white, it has always been in living color.
When I was in school in the 1980’s, the only time we talked about Black people specifically was in February and it went something like this…
They were in Africa, and then they were slaves and then Harriet Tubman and Fredrick Douglass and Abraham Lincoln and the civil war (we always spent a good amount of time on Lincoln and the civil war) then BOOM, no more slaves.
There was something called reconstruction and the Great Migration and then Jim Crow (but only in the deepest of the deep south) then Martin Luther the King and Rosa Parks and Civil Rights and then BOOM, no more racism.
Finally, we would talk about how the Blacks be winning in sports, music, Hollywood, and politics.
There was always a project which was either a book report or a report on a famous Black person. As we got older, the lessons got deeper, the reports got longer, and the boards and dioramas got more elaborate, but the formula was pretty much the same. I did a straw poll and for most of my friends, these were the three legs of the Black History Month stool.
Outside of school, there was always a play at church with little Black kids dressed as their heroes and sheroes. PBS kept our “Eyes on the Prize” and one of the networks (there were only a few) showed us our “Roots” all eight episodes from Kunta Kinte in Africa to Chicken George sitting on his own land telling his grandchildren their family history. And my mama and grandma made us watch all of it, every year, every time it came on. It was a family affair and literal must see TV.
“Whatever we believe about ourselves and our ability comes true for us.”
- Susan L. Taylor
Now though, see now, things are different. Now third eyes are opening and the people are waking up. In that wokeness, there is a rejuvenation in the celebration of our history as we delve into the mystery of the Blackness. There is a whole entire museum on the National Mall about Black Folx. Whether you’ve spent hours in the National Museum of African American History & Culture, or learned about Tulsa from Watchmen or Lovecraft Country or learned about Juneteenth from black-ish, hopefully you’re learning. Learning about who we are and what we have been through. Not just what America has done to and for us, but also what we have done for America. Our relationship status with America is… it’s complicated.
“I love America more than any other country in this world, and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.”
The Black experience is woven into the very fabric of America, it is stitched with the strength of our sacrifice and dyed with our blood, sweat, and tears. Maybe, if Black history is no longer a mystery, maybe if the obviousness of our value becomes evident, maybe if the world can see us, as us, in all of our glory, maybe then our humanity can precede our ethnicity, maybe our minds can carry more value than our bodies, maybe it will finally be clear that we are not, in fact, all the same, our experiences and identities are as varied as the stars in the night sky that some of our ancestors followed to freedom. Maybe, just maybe we can be seen, once and for all, as whole individuals and full citizens in this great nation that we call home better yet, on this planet we call Earth.
“Defining myself, as opposed to being defined by others, is one of the most difficult challenges I face.”
- The Honorable Carol Moseley-Braun
I’ve spent a lot of time focused on how others see Blackness. That matters, but what is most important is how you see it. So, what am I asking you to do?
1. Learn YOUR history. Families vary wildly. Whether your ancestry is the proverbial melting pot, or generations of your family all still live in the same town, or you are the only ones from your family in this country, we are all within the diaspora. Make some time to interview a relative about your family’s history. Grandparents are a great place to start.
2. Be anchored in YOUR identity. No one gets to tell you what kind of ____ person you are. Do not conflate the convenience of labels for your categorization for the ascribing of stereotypes to your character.
3. Document YOUR experiences. Write it down, make a voice memo on your phone, do something to capture what you think, how you feel, and what you’ve done. Trust me, you will wish you had twenty years from now, I sure do.
4. Share YOUR story. You are a living, breathing, epic example of history in the making. Your story is still being written, but know that your excellence is inspirational, so inspire someone with it.
“History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, however, if faced with courage, need not be lived again.”