February is officially black history month. But really appreciating, understanding and learning about black history in America needs to happen every time a person opens a history book or get curious about the “origins” of the United States of America. Just one month (and the shortest one of the year) each year will never be enough to help remind people that America’s history is checkered, multicultural, dynamic and complex in relation to a portion of it’s population that was forced to come here, survive centuries of horrific conditions and degrading treatment and who’s ancestors are still treated often as second class citizens simply because of the color of their skin.
I learned about slavery at a pretty young age. I remember getting my American girl doll, Addy when I was about five and my mom and I reading the books about her life story. I have a clear memory of learning about, in a watered down child’s version, the horrible treatment Addy and her family endured. I remember asking my mom why anyone would be treated so and learning it was because she was black. My mom told me we cried about it together when the reality hit me because it was in that moment I realized how insane yet powerful racism was. Then I grew up in a white neighborhood and went to predominately white schools but the understanding that racism existed and still does never really left my mind. I remember my dad teaching us about Martin Luther King Jr and the civil rights movement. I remember getting really excited when Nelson Mandela was finally released from jail. I remember when I went shopping with my friend when we were about 12 years old and someone treated her rudely and she told me she didn’t know if people were mean to her because she did something wrong or because she was black. I remember knowing I had white privilege and feeling guilty about it constantly way before I knew about this concept or even had the words to describe my feelings. I remember giving a speech about the failures of FEMA after Hurricane Katrina at my high school and my peers not understanding why I was drawing the connection between racism and the despicable situation led by the US government unfolding right in front of us. I remember deciding when I got to college to become a history major only after I found out I could do so by studying African history in particular. So for me, black history has been something that I’ve tried, in my own ways, to continue learning about since I was a child.
Living now in Harlem, a historically black neighborhood with such importance and immense legacies, I’ve enjoyed ensuring I read at least one if not two books by black authors each month. Luckily I have a huge selection to pick from as I live only ten blocks from the 135th New York Public Library which is home to the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture. To me, learning about all of America’s diverse populations, our immense failures as a nation, and understanding the history of how we got to where we all are today is important and necessary. It isn’t something that should be focused on for just a month every year. People can and do spend their entire lives learning, researching and writing about such topics. So black history, and if your American- our collective history, is meant to be shared, discussed and talked about everyday- no matter the color of your skin. And if you are a parent, its important to start these conversations with your children when they are young. Read to them, tell them stories, learn together but do it everyday.
K Space 