Another Letter to a Fallen World: On Black Pride
Dear Society,
This is new. Usually, I write to you to implore you to do an unnatural thing (for you, that is) – the right thing for once. I've asked you for justice, for equality, for you to remove the mote out of your eyes and truly see and evaluate the havoc you have wreaked. I have made our relationship one of only bad news, and in doing so, I reduced myself and my people to a people of trauma, which is how you perceive us anyway when, in reality, we are so much more. I almost took our need for equality for granted. Still, I write to you today to bring something entirely new to your attention, to shift our purview for a moment away from what we have lost and, instead, what we have become notwithstanding subjugation, oppression, and exclusion — notwithstanding you.
February, since 1976, has officially been recognized as Black History Month, which, to you, I imagine only means one of two things: absolutely nothing, or it suggests to you that Black lives are only relevant in February and during no other month, resulting in you performatively "celebrating" and "recognizing" us. Either way, those inclinations or assumptions would be incorrect. Instead, I will tell you what it means to me. It is a North Star for me, reminding me, not that I could ever forget, of where I came from and who I am. I find this yearly reflection necessary, particularly in today's context when you attempt to diminish this country as our home and rightful place as though we did not build it.
It is because of my predecessors, because of their victories and sacrifices, that I even have the audacity and courage to take you on, to call you out and keep my proverbial foot on your neck, which we both know you are intimately familiar with and not at all in the proverbial sense. Only by the Grace of God do we even have a history to reflect on. Some take that for granted, no longer desiring to look to the past, only wishing to look forward, much like yourself. Still, it is only through reflection, through a perpetual anchoring ourselves in who we are at our best, that we have the capacity, ability, and will to forge ahead, knowing that we are not islands or independent entities or fractions of people, but descendants of a resilient and prolific ancestral line.
Mary Van Brittan Brown. Garrett Morgan. Alexander Miles. Lewis Latimer. Madame CJ Walker. Mae Jemison. Bessie Coleman. James Weldon Johnson. Medgar Evers. Toni Morrison. Langston Hughes. Althea Gibson. Charles Drew. Arthur Ashe. Patricia Boone. W.E.B. DuBois. Malcolm X. Martin Luther King Jr., Mahalia Jackson. Ralph Bunche. Ella Baker. Frederick Douglass. Sojourner Truth. Harriett Tubman. Phyliss Wheatley. Barack Obama.
The list goes on and on, as does my pride in the skin that I am in and the knowledge that I am connected to them and I am because they were. Just as they were not moved, neither shall I. Much is heaped on us by you, and we endure much because of you, but to whom much is given, much is required (Luke 12:48), and even when you expected nothing of us, we exceeded your expectations; we remained a determined and accomplished people.
Now, to whom I owe the greatest debt for ensuring that our history was preserved, revered, and memorialized, the Father of Black History, I give you Carter G. Woodson, who created this month with the sole purpose of emphasizing "not Negro history, but the Negro in history." We are not a people without roots, context, history, dignity, strength to outlast you, the intestinal fortitude to challenge you, and value to God and His will.
I leave you with his words. "If a race has no history, if it has no worthwhile tradition, it becomes a negligible factor in the thought of the world, and it stands in danger of being exterminated."
Because of the work that began with Mr. Woodson and continues with me, you may never exterminate us like bugs, we may never forget our history, we will carry on this tradition, and we will live out Black History Month every day and exponentially in February. February comes to a close today, but my Black pride will not, my letters certainly will not, and the etching of our legacy in history, regardless of your best efforts, will be preserved in our hearts and minds and the eyes of God.
I am ever renewed and concerted in my efforts to hold you accountable despite your propensity to miscarry justice and withhold equality because of the mighty shoulders I stand on that showed me there are many ways to fight, and this is my way. This is where I take my stand, and they are the reason I know how and why we will always be in communication, but not always in conflict, I pray. Even if you are determined to be, I am not going anywhere. It is with joy, determination, and duty that I keep in touch with you. I use my voice and my pen to speak not only for myself but for all those you refuse to hear. I hold these truths as self-evident that despite you, all men are created equal and endowed by God with unalienable rights. You know the rest. Until next time and Happy Black History Month!
Proudly,
Your Greatest Adversary
