Why Black History
The deep seated urge for those of Caucasian decent, those from the mountains of “Caucasus” if you will to convince us to get over the resounding effects of slavery and mass mutilation of black people is astounding.
Some of there favorite things to say are… and I quote
“Why do you keep bringing that up?”
“You make everything about race?”
“I don’t see color and quite frankly, I’m offended that you would say that!”
(Commence to cry in white weaponized tears)
“Always pulling the black card?”
“I have black friends”
“I voted for Obama”
“Affirmative Action!”
“It happened a long time ago”
“You don’t see white people having a whole month about history, Everything isn’t about race….”
Everything isn’t about race…
Everything isn’t about race…
Everything isn’t about race… but yet the color of my skin tells you how to perceive me. Last time I checked when you pulled up in the latest Maserati they didn’t assume your were a rapper or an athlete.
You say I’m always pulling the black card… but see if all cards were created the same providing an equal playing field there would be no card to pull.
Why do you keep bringing that up?
Bringing what up?
The fact that my experience is different than yours?
It is.
The fact that this country treats me differently than you?
It does bookie!
And it has since the day the White Lion landed at Point comfort in 1619. Roughly 407 years and 4 months ago.
Get over it? My grandmother was birthed alongside remnants of plantations her grandparents knew all too well.
They say that it was such a long time ago and that we should get over it but Slavery was officially abolished by the 13th amendment on December 16th 1865… the state of Mississippi didn’t ratify the law until March 16, 1995.
Let go?!
It was in April of 1968 that Martin Luther King Jr was assassinated at the Lorain Hotel in Memphis, Tennessee. My mother was 6 years old.
It was on December 5th of 1955 that the bus boycotts began in Montgomery, Alabama my grandmother was 12 years old.
Fun fact although The Civil Rights Act was passed on July 2, 1964 by President Lyndon B Johnson, the last school to be desegregated was Cleveland High school In the great state of… you guessed it Mississippi in 2016, 10 years ago.
That’s why we keep bringing it up.
Because it isn’t as far removed as you want it to be.
Your hands are still stained with the blood of black bodies, the foundation of your oppression has not been eradicated only reshaped, remodeled if you will.
Instead of plantations there called correctional institutions.
Instead of sterilization it’s called planned parenthood hood in low income communities.
Instead of white only schools it’s called SAT scores and diversity quotas.
That’s why we keep bringing it up.
And we will keep bringing it up because we must never forget.
Never forget.
The past gives us blue print to the present. It shows us the trajectory of our future.
The March on Washington is evidence of our unity.
The freedom rides are proof of our perseverance.
The Harlem Renaissance is the essence of our joy and the manifestation of our innovation.
Our history is more than just mere blots on a page.
It is testimony to the fact that we are bigger than what others desire us to be.
We are freedom wrapped up in rebellion.
Black history can not be confined to 28 days because it’s roots lie in the pyramids of Egypt and in the diamond minds of Sierra Leone
Black history doesn’t disappear because you refuse to teach it.
Black history cannot be called lie because it makes you uncomfortable.
We celebrate, black history, because black history is the history of this country.
Black history is this country.
Our country ‘tis of thee, we have never known liberty, that’s our black history.
This country was made on black history, black bodies, black inventions, black culture, black innovation, black labor, black love, black thought, black hands, black, feet, black rhythm, created the beat that this country marches to.
Black history cannot be avoided, because Black history is all around us.
Why can’t y’all just let it go?
Because our history is not a wound to be healed it is a scar to be worn with pride.
Pride because we are here and we survived.
That’s why Black History.
