As Black History Month comes to a close, I wanted to take time to savor these last 28 days and share my reflections. And to be clear, Black History is U.S. History and should be recognized 365 days a year. Parents in Utah (or anywhere else) should not be able to opt their children out of learning about the contributions of Black Americans… similar to the way that I, nor my child, could opt out of European American History (aka U.S. History) in school. In fact, it was a graduation requirement. Luckily the parents rescinded their request after significant backlash. But the larger point: acknowledging and learning about Black History should not be a tag on to a February school assembly or offered as an elective. And in both contexts, it typically starts with slavery and ends with a fairy-tale adaptation of the Civil Rights Movement. It omits that the Civil War was fought over the “right” to continue enslaving human beings but instead repackages it as a war about “state rights” and minimizes the violent backlash to the Civil Rights Movement and demonization of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Lest we forget, Dr. King had a 75% disapproval rating the year he was assassinated.
While Black History absolutely includes Africans being forced into chattel slavery and the Civil Rights Movement, they are not the book ends of our story. There is so much more. This Black History Month, I used our social media channels to celebrate some of the stories that come before, between, and after those book ends. The entrepreneurs, inventors, historians, scientists, farmers, politicians, soldiers, lawyers, economists, architects, poets, authors, educators and activists. All the Black firsts and Black excellence that I never learned in history classes even though it is a part of the fabric of our shared U.S. story. Generations of children grow up believing white people were responsible for all monumental U.S. discovery, invention and innovation, hence perpetuating white supremacy or the belief that white people and their creativity, ideas, beliefs, and knowledge are superior to those of Blacks and other People of Color (POC). This is harmful to both white and POC students (and ultimately white and POC adults). It is also important to note, perpetuating white supremacy and white supremacy culture is not limited to white people (or being an avowed white supremacist). We have all been conditioned by the same media, government, systems, power structures, and school curriculums.
And because of this, Black children are disadvantaged and discouraged by the U.S. educational system and white children learn they can be or do anything. Adults can reinforce this belief through implicit bias. As an example, when you close your eyes and think of a scientist, cook, CEO, laborer, teacher, janitor, nurse, computer programmer, accountant, doctor, artist, social worker, secretary, landscaper, author or bus driver who immediately comes to mind for each? Where did you envision a white male? A white female? For which occupations did you immediately picture a Black person or other person of color? What happens when a Black child shares their dreams and they don’t fit within these “limitations?” Black children are routinely told to manage their expectations, consider a less rigorous path, or to “do something with their hands.”
During my Freshman year in college, I tested into a 200-level writing class. For my first assignment, I wrote a paper comparing how Patrick Henry and Malcolm X are remembered by U.S. history. In it, I noted Patrick Henry was revered for advocating to raise a militia in preparation to fight for U.S. independence shouting, “give me liberty or give me death!” He is portrayed as a patriot. In contrast, I questioned why Malcolm X was villainized for saying something similar during the Civil Rights Movement in his “The Ballot or The Bullet” speech: “This is why I say it’s the ballot or the bullet. It’s liberty or it’s death. It’s freedom for everybody or freedom for nobody.” I concluded by arguing the telling of history is always from the viewpoint of the victors. I was extremely proud of my work and analysis. However, my professor confronted and accused me of plagiarism because she “did not believe [I] was capable of writing at that level.” We had a heated discussion. I argued she did not know me nor what I was capable of. She eventually agreed to “give” me a “B” and still to this day I believe that paper was “A” work. But the damage was done. I mentally withdrew in class and did the least.
My professor’s assumptions were rooted in white supremacy and lack of knowledge of Black History and Literature. She could not digest the possibility of me, a young Black woman, being a talented writer or providing a critical analysis of events in U.S. History. However, had her own educational experiences exposed her to a multicultural, anti-racist curriculum, she would have read works by Black historians, writers, and creators. They would be commonplace for her. Perhaps then, a talented young Black writer would not have been so foreign that her response was to hurl accusations of plagiarism. Perhaps she would have encouraged and nurtured my craft instead of questioning it and forcing me to defend my talent or place in the class. And that is the vicious cycle of a white supremacist curriculum, it robs all of us of the full spectrum of contributions to U.S. society and culture and places an albatross around the necks of future Black and Brown contributors.
Black History is U.S. History and should be important to all of us. It must be incorporated into school curriculums. Until there is a full and accurate accounting of U.S. History and Black and POC contributions, we will never achieve racial justice. This work is a marathon, not a sprint and I invite you on this journey.