Do we still need it?
A few years ago, I was walking out of a meeting with a White friend of mine. We’ll call him Tucker. Tucker turned to me, suddenly, with a question I wasn’t expecting to have to answer. It was the most ludicrous thing I had ever heard.
“Phil, why do we still have Black History Month? America isn’t really racist anymore and Obama’s the president! Doesn’t it seem rather counterintuitive to have a month where we celebrate only one group of people?”
I was a little caught off guard, but mentally prepared myself for what could be an enduring conversation. I was a junior at my university and though it was rather diverse, I did feel like questions about race and culture were like walking on ice.
“Well,” I sighed, “Black History Month is a massive celebration that I still think is necessary. Without it, it’s easy to ignore the people who’ve built up this country and endured many trials. And, even though you may not see it, things are still racist--they’re just a bit more covert now in some places. There’s actually several months dedicated to different people groups in this country. I guess mine is pretty mainstream because my people worked to make it that way. Also, just because we have a Black POTUS doesn’t mean we’ve finally arrived in the Promised Land.”
It was a feeble attempt, but he was glad I was willing to at least talk to him about it for a bit. When I eventually became SA President of my university, I made it a point to pump up the other months representing people groups as well as my own. Tucker even went on to learn so much more about different people groups and we had many discussions about it all as time went on. I guess I got to plant the seed.
However, there are questions that still remain: Do we still need Black History Month?
I argue that we do. In fact, I believe we do now more than ever.
Every February since 1976, the United States has officially celebrated Black History Month as a way to recall, educate and celebrate a gigantic portion of America’s history, culture and people who for so long have been mistreated, misunderstood, and marginalized.
Though America had celebrated a Negro History Week, this practice, originally created by Carter G. Woodson in 1926, eventually evolved into an entire month. Not chosen because of its length, February was designated as Black History Month as a result of the birthdays of Frederick Douglass, arguably the most famous African American of the nineteenth century, and US President Abraham Lincoln, who signed the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863, liberating the African slaves in the United States (though not all slaves were freed until the end of the Civil War in 1865).
I always get excited in February, for many reasons. When the clock strikes midnight on February 1st, I feel this swelling in my chest. I proclaim, “I’M BLACK Y’ALL, AND I’M BLACK Y’ALL! AND I’M BLACKETY BLACK AND I’M BLACK, Y’ALL!” I run and hug my girlfriend and jump up and down. Oh yeah! It’s a good time.
I remember when Marvel’s “The Black Panther” was released and I was so excited. It was one thing to watch Spider-Man, Captain America, Iron-Man, and the rest of the Avengers do their thing, but it was completely different to see someone who looked like me on the screen. I loved dissecting Killmonger’s character and his understandable anger--a near-perfect villain. I loved watching Shuri and her smarts. I loved watching T’Challa, a reimagined Dr. King, become a king, himself. There was just something different about that film for Black people--especially for Black people in February.
And then, there was that familiar idea I heard every now and then...
“I don’t see color. You must understand. I grew up in one of the largest cities in this country. Growing up, my friends were red, yellow, black, and white. In fact, in my doctoral research…”
This is one of those areas I’ll always have a problem with when it comes to my academic friends and professors. Sometimes, we think of our degrees as that Draw Four card we throw down when we’re about to proclaim victory in an UNO game. I actually had a professor who was okay proclaiming that he couldn’t see color at all, let alone remember what color of skin one of his students had in the past. There’s a danger here that cannot be ignored. America isn’t post-racial just yet, and I’m unsure if it will ever be.
Truthfully, you must see color. It is not necessarily a definition of someone’s worth, but it is most definitely a representation of someone’s context, specifically culturally. We romanticize the images of black and white children holding hands and think of it as Dr. King’s dream fulfilled. It’s cute, we like it. However, when those same two children grow up and travel from school together and they’re stopped by a police officer, those two children may react totally differently. Context is everything.
Ideally, it’d be great to say you cannot see color. But we ain’t there yet. Not even close. There are so many different holes and wounds in society to proclaim such a hurtful statement. For reasons like this, there are people like Bryan Stevenson (author of Just Mercy, recently adapted to a feature film featuring Michael B. Jordan) or even Michael Nixon (Vice President for Diversity & Inclusion at Andrews University) fighting for equity. We can’t be blind to the ways several integral parts of the American system has been built to destroy the lives of poor people, especially Black people.
Black History Month gives us a chance to celebrate our ancestors and family members who have paved the way for us to follow our dreams, passions, and goals. “Black Excellence” is about Black people realizing that they were made for more than just average. Black people, unfortunately had to spend hundreds of years being your average, faceless, nameless slave, incapable of changing the world. Black History Month reminds us of the resilience of people who led the largest American revolution we’d seen since the Revolutionary War--the Civil Rights Movement. Black History Month is a chance to celebrate Kobe Bryant, Ava DuVernary, Nipsey Hussle, Beyonce, and so many more. It’s a chance to celebrate my grandmother, your cousin, her brother, his auntie. It’s all around us.
If I’m white can I celebrate Black History Month?
Are you kidding? Absolutely! For so long, people of color have asked for inclusion--a seat at the table, if you will. People were shot, lynched, assassinated, murdered....just for a chance to sit at the table. Just because we were not given a chance, doesn’t mean that we won’t give you a chance. Ever heard about the fabled cookout that your Black friends often joke about? You’re invited if you can learn to see color, to ask questions, to love people who you may not be able to fully understand. Just use discernment about what you can and can’t do--more on that later.
Ideally, the table is filled with all kinds of different people: Black, White, Hispanic/Latin American, Asian/Pacific-Islander, Indigenous….You name it! Imagine the great stories we could tell and the amazing food we could exchange if we just humbled ourselves just a little bit?
When we learn to celebrate the people around us and recognize that our paths are all intertwined only then can we hope to be a united society; however, wouldn’t it be cool if we all took part in celebrating together? Unfortunately, there are still too many people doing blackface, too many people misunderstanding cultural appropriation, and too many people ignoring the hurt that history has taught us.
There’s a chance for us all to simply enjoy learning about one group’s past, present, and their future. This is our month as Black people to celebrate and even mourn some of those shortcomings. We still have a mighty long way to go, but won’t you join in where you can?
Happy Black History Month!
