I wrote this piece a few years ago when I was a monthly columnist for a parenting-related site sponsored by a child advocacy organization. Disclaimer: I really enjoyed writing for that site, and my editor there was the best. However, this particular column was nixed because what they were looking for was more of a how-to for parents looking to celebrate Black History Month. As you’ll read, I had other ideas.As February approaches, this unpublished column came to mind. I decided to post it here–with a few minor stylistic edits because…well, I’m vain like that.
by Anti-Racist Parent columnist Deesha Philyaw
“I always wanted a black friend!” A white woman I’d known for a short while gushed this to me six years ago, back when I was doing time in the ‘burbs. We had toddlers and first-time motherhood in common, and little else. The jury was still out as to whether I’d be her friend, much less her “black friend.” I imagined a full social calendar in the month of February—28 days of lectures on the care and feeding of my hair and how to cook soul food. I imagined her trotting me out at dinner parties, a little Africana knickknack to wow her friends. “She speaks so well!”
Not surprisingly, that budding friendship fizzled because it became apparent that this woman was more interested in what I represented than in me as an individual. She’s not an anomaly in that regard. It’s far easier to smile and wave at each other from disparate shores than it is to push up our sleeves and build bridges across the cultural and racial divide.
I was reminded of this “friend” last year when I came across the website for a newspaper based in the South. In observance of Black History Month, this newspaper offered black and white images of famous black people, which presumably could be downloaded, printed, and colored by schoolchildren. File under “Well, they tried.” Whitney Houston looked like Shirley Chisholm (without the glasses). Tina Turner looked like Cher with a really big mop-top on her head. Eddie Murphy, Arsenio Hall, and Bobby Brown were damn-near identical, as if a police sketch artist had drawn them from a verbal description: “Um, black…male…big lips…a fade…and a mustache.” Judging by the individuals featured, one would think the only noteworthy black achievers were entertainers whose popularity peaked in the 1980s.
I doubt this is what Dr. Carter G. Woodson, the father of Black History Month had in mind. Dr. Woodson, the son of former slaves, worked as a coal miner as a child and did not attend high school until the age of twenty. He went on to earn a Ph.D. from Harvard, and was troubled to find that American history books either presented black folks as socially, culturally, and intellectually inferior, or ignored us altogether. Dr. Woodson formed the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History in 1915, and he founded the Journal of Negro History. He later established “Negro History Week” (forerunner to Black History Month) to bring national recognition to black people’s contributions to American history.
Just as my suburban “friend” sought a feel-good version of my blackness—without all that pesky talk about racism—so too are we more comfortable with Black History Month Lite. Michael Jackson and collard greens, and let’s call it a February. But culture does not exist in a social and political vacuum. Danzy Senna, author of the novel Caucasia, notes on the subject of biculturalism, “It seemed to me we spent so much time talking about kimchee and grits, we forgot to talk about power.” There is indeed power in the communal act of breaking bread. However, just as food is but one part of our daily lives, a once-a-year acknowledgment of the contributions of black Americans is the tip of the iceberg of a substantive appreciation for black culture and history.
Today, because of changing demographics in this country, many of us have more multi-cultural and multi-racial experiences than our grandparents and their parents ever had. In simplest terms, our paths regularly cross those of people whose cultural and racial backgrounds differ from ours. We are tempted toward self-congratulation when we notice the “little UN” that is our child’s preschool classroom. However, “multi-cultural” is merely descriptive; it says nothing about the quality of the relationships (or lack thereof) shared between people of different cultural backgrounds. By contrast, “cross-cultural” experiences are those which involve an exchange of cultures and ideas, a deeper sharing, and likely, a departure from our comfort zones.
So what does a cross-cultural observance of Black History Month look like? Specifically, how can we make this observance meaningful for our children? Countless websites offer ideas for celebrating Black History Month. I won’t list them here because they are easily Googled, and because while such events and activities are vital, they are but a means to an end. It’s not enough to celebrate Breast Cancer Awareness Month by reading biographies of famous breast cancer survivors. Celebration of these and other Months are about everyday people, about raising awareness and affecting change, not for a month, but for a lifetime.
In a cross-cultural observance of Black History Month, we ask questions. Are the achievements of black Americans woven inextricably into the curriculum at your child’s school? Or are the “usual suspects” of black history—Martin Luther King, Jr., Rosa Parks–trotted out in February, and not discussed again until the following February? Is “diversity” something that happens at a school-wide assembly the last Friday of every other month? We ask questions of those charged with educating our children, and we ask questions of ourselves. Is a commitment to cross-cultural living inextricably woven into the fabric of our lives, into the art and literature we consume, how we spend our money, where we choose to live, who we vote for, who we include in our intimate circle—not as “tokens”, but as our equals?
The study of black history and culture is not just for black people, and it’s not just for February: Black History Month is a reality check and a wake-up call. Eighty years after Dr. Carter G. Woodson established “Negro History Week,” economic and social injustice still reign in this country and abroad. The struggles of black Americans symbolize the battle for equality and justice waged by many worldwide. To observe Black History Month is to look beyond ourselves, but to look inwardly as well. Are we affecting positive change outside our comfort zones? As the African proverb challenges us, “If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.”
Many before me have observed that black history is American history. And this is a living history which cannot be adequately captured by well-worn biographies and copy-ready coloring pages. A living history which, when encountered, should compel us to self-reflection and action, all year round.
Deesha Philyaw is a freelance writer who has written for Essence Magazine, Wondertime Magazine (a Disney publication), and The Washington Post. Deesha holds a B.A. in economics from Yale University and a Master’s degree in teaching. In her pre-mommy, pre-writing life, she was a management consultant, briefly, and then an elementary school teacher. A native of Jacksonville, Florida, Deesha currently lives in Pittsburgh with her two daughters.
“It’s not enough to celebrate Breast Cancer Awareness Month by reading biographies of famous breast cancer survivors.”
What an excellent analogy that we really need to take to heart.
I have been trying to bring up my kids to be non-racists but my son keeps asking why black people are so ugly. He’s obviously being influenced by other kids in the schoolyard. Yesterday he came home from school and asked why their lips are so big that they flap in the wind and their faces look like gorillas. The week before he asked how much it cost buy a pet negro which again I’m sure he’s getting from friends. I really can’t think of a way to deal with this. Can you help? Laura
“Many before me have observed that black history is American history. ”
I think that maybe there’s something problematic in this observation of your predecessors.
As a black person of African descent living in the UK, I’d like to think that my Black American friends’ histories are not just limited to American history.
Never mind that it ignores that a significant population of the earth is black, it also implies that, before they arrived in America, black people had no history at all.
You’re kidding right? How did Laura N.’s comments pass moderation? We don’t need to hear that crap even if a kid really did say it. I can help. Block her and remove her comments.
Woah, Laura – that’s some incredible stuff your son is bringing home. I have a bunch of questions before I could even try to figure out some solutions… This may be an “Ask ARP” situation, so if you like, email Carmen with more information…
My initial questions are:
1. What is the demographic of your son’s school and neighborhood? Who are the black teachers (if any) and students that he knows?
2. How old is your son? Could he be bringing this home to get a rise out of you (especially the “pet” comment)?
3. How have you been handling the comments so far? What does your son already know about black history? What does your son know about the diversity within the black community?
Wendy, thanks for raising this issue.
You wrote:
“As a black person of African descent living in the UK, I’d like to think that my Black American friends’ histories are not just limited to American history.”
But I didn’t say that Black history is limited to American history. In the spirit of Woodson’s original intentions, my point is that Black history is part of the fabric of American history, a part that is all-too-often overlooked, minimized, or distorted.
So when people look at the study or appreciation of black history as “extra” or some kind of supplement, my responset is that black history *is* American history.
Further to your point, in my current blogathon celebrating Black History Month, my co-celebrant and I have posts planned which will feature issues and artists from around the Diaspora.
**Never mind that it ignores that a significant population of the earth is black, it also implies that, before they arrived in America, black people had no history at all.**
Again, I did not mean to apply that Black history is limited to our experiences on American soil.
More accurately, we could celebrate “Black American History Month”, but instead the “American” part is assumed–but not out of ignorance to our history preceding this country, or that of black folks in other countries.
If Women’s History Month was celebrated in Nigeria, I doubt there’s a need to qualify it as “Nigerian Women’s History Month”, and I for one wouldn’t assume that Nigeria women were claiming to represent the history of women worldwide. It’s a matter of short-hand and contextual understanding, not disrespect.
I agree with Lyonside. I am offended/saddened/sickened to even read such hurtful remarks as were shared by Laura N. I know they are said by some people; I don’t need to read them to understand that. I wonder what purpose there was in posting them and why the moderators allowed them to be posted. Would it not have been sufficient to state that very offensive racist remarks are being repeated by her son without quoting them? Yesterday my 8 yo daughter told my 10 yo daughter that she was sorry her friends didn’t like her 10 yo sister. And explained why they didn’t. My 10 yo didn’t know anything about it until the 8 yo shared the hurtful comments. I spent 15 mins attempting to explain and teach my 8 yo that it is not necessary to repeat hurtful remarks even though she had good intentions. I think the same lesson might be useful here.
justamom, I understand your concern, but if we’re going to deal with racism on this blog, I think it’s important not to gloss over the ugliness of it.
Oprah thought she was dealing with racism when she had the klan on her show too…that is until one day she realized she was only giving them a forum to express their racist ideology. That’s what you in esscence have done. As an African-American I think anyone who had any kind of sensitivity to someone of a different race or culture could have never written such words without feeling some kind shame and with that would have come censorship.
Laura N. — The comments your son is bringing home are shocking; however, the real crime is that you “really can’t think of a way to deal with this.” Are you serious? Or is this just your strange way of bringing racist language to a site that is clearly meant to be inclusive and educational, as opposed to derisive?
Because if you’re serious, then I really have no idea how to begin to answer you, except your son clearly has far bigger issues to deal with than what he’s learning at *school.*
laura n.,
it’s unfortunate that your son is picking up this information from his friends, but if he doesn’t hear at home (which hopefully he doesn’t), he will eventually be forced to encounter it elsewhere and/or later in life. if there is any time to discuss these statements, it’s now, though in terms that he can understand (i.e. with a discussion on beauty and that all people are beautiful in different ways, etc…that not all black people or other people of color (or whites, for that matter) look alike and to not discuss them in such ways, etc), including the fact that negative statements like that are hurtful. place him in their shoes and have him express how he would feel if someone called him ugly?
–
others,
with regard to moderating comments…that’s often a tough call, especially considering that laura n. is relaying an incident for which she is seeking advice. of course, there could have been more tactful ways of presenting it (i.e. “my son has been repeating racial slurs and sayings from his friends…any advice on how to guide him ?”), but it’s possible that she was more specific in order to seek more specific ways in dealing with the issue directly. i am not sure and cannot speak for her.
however, i find it unrealistic to censor any comments that present facts/scenarios in a way that is not politically correct for the sake of finding a solution. if you go to many antiracist sites, like this one or racialicious, many of the posts themselves contain a situation that may have been incredibly incensing and the author (or commenters) may discuss how to deal with such an issue. for example, there is a post now on racialicious regarding superbowl ads that are culturally insensitive, and the readers have responded with comments regarding how the commercial made them feel, what stereotypes it evoked, and what could be done to prevent the creation and airing of such commercials in the future.
if we are too afraid to repeat the words that hurt us or to detail the situations that may confuse us, we turn ourselves into victims and give the aggressors power. the only way we can truly deal with racism and the problems that ensue as a result, is to face is head on and not be afraid, like carmen said, to encounter the ugliness of it.
I am hard-pressed to believe that Laura N’s comment is something her child really said. I feel ARP is being trolled/baited into posting a totally offensive comment, masquerading as a sincere question. I would not have moderated that one through.
I agree with Wendy and justamom that *even if that is what Laura N’s son is really saying* it doesn’t need to be repeated here. I also agree with everything Chookooloonks said. If you “really can’t think of a way to deal with it” then I don’t know where to begin–except to think that someone’s having a bit of racist *fun* at ARP’s expense.
In retrospect the comment probably was by a troll, since as many have pointed out, someone who was genuinely concerned would probably not repeat those words. If I had slowed down and read more carefully, I would probably have deleted it.
That said, the possibility of a child coming home from school saying things like this does not strike me as unrealistic in any way.
Correction. The post that I was stating my agreement with was written by GM, not Lyonside. And I was agreeing that we don’t need to read those comments here. I, too, think this was written by someone baiting the rest of the group.
Reading through, I DO suspect trollish behavior on Laura N’s part…
But that is the exception to most questions directed at ARP, and I wonder if we want to be in the business of NOT posting a comment based on what we THINK is the poster’s intent.
Do I really wish Laura N, if authentic, would have written her post better? Hells yeah.
Did I initially have the urge to go, “What god-forsaken place is this person living in?” Yup.
But if the question is authentic, then this could be an opportunity for outreach and education for everyone involved. We can’t always be preaching to the choir. Sometimes street corner conversions are needed too. Even if we get heckled.
The only way we’ll know is if Laura N. comes back.
My two cents:
I assumed she was trolling, so I didn’t bite. I was surprised the comment got through, but I just figured it would be ignored, or that Laura N. would get her ass handed to her by anyone who was inclined to do so.
I also think that it’s best to not pretty racism up–that way you know what you & your loved ones are REALLY up against. Also, if the goal is to teach why not take every opportunity to do so.
I gotta say that I find it very hard to believe that this kind of thing is only coming from the schoolyard or that an adult is having a hard time providing guidance.
Point: Lyonside when you say “what does your son know about diversity in the black community?” It reads as if you’re saying there are more ‘ acceptable’ looking black people.
Thank you for your insightful article. Our children’s school’s “black history” lesson came home with a emphasis on the history of segregation which I thought was fine until our child said there was only one child in the class who would have been left out (the black child). I had to remind him that he, too (being of color – though not black), would have been left out. I was quick to point out the obvious, but I was in a knot about the other parents who would just nod and move on with their day. I’m thrilled this website exists and that despite the trolling comment, we can learn how to change.
@ Deesha
Hi Deesha, thanks for replying.
It was the final paragraph that I was referring to and, therefore, what some before you have observed, rather than what you said yourself: “Many before me have observed that black history is American history.”
But we’re pretty much in agreement. I certainly believe that Black Americans need to embrace their place in American history, remember and remind others of their contribution to it, their fortitute through it, and their survival of it! That there’s a specific need for a Black History Month is a shame in itself, a shame which America feebly acknowledges but seems to mainly just pay lip service to.
It would seem that for many white people, even/especially those like your friend who wanted you to wear you like a badge declaring her um… progressive liberalism, they don’t see beyond the arrival of black people in America. It’s as if, despite what they may have had to (and still) go through in American, some huge favour was done to them by taking them from some ‘uncivilised’ darkness into a much more ‘civilised’ light… And they should really just be grateful for that.
This is almost borne out by the tone of previous troll-like comments (whether genuine or bating) which would suggest the belief that, even in today’s America, the history of blacks is almost solely a question of evolution.
I don’t blog on any other site but this one but I know a racist insult when I hear one. I also know how kids speak and most try to be funny not mean spirited. I grew up in the South and have been called the N word more than once but I’ve never heard anything so ugly.
I like this blog especially the journalists because they all write very interesting, insightful, funny and thought provoking articles about their diverse cultures. I love hearing their point of view about what it’s like being in their skin. Only an Asian, black, Hispanic, white or mixed race person can tell me exactly how it feels to be them. They can describe their own level of discomfort with any kind of cultural misappropriation. And you know what… even if I don’t know the speakers intention I have to respect the listener’s level of discomfort with someone’s comments about their culture because only they can interpret what that feels like. In the future, if it looks like a duck and it quacks like a duck and another duck tells you it’s a duck then believe the duck when it says, “It must be a duck.”
Temple: That was badly written on my end, and thanks for calling me on it. My father’s family skin tones range across the spectum, like most black families, and I would never want to imply that any of them are ugly based on skin color or features, etc.
I think what I *MEANT* to write was something along the lines of: does the kid know what black people REALLY look like (that lips do not flap, etc.), and does he know what “black” means (in that we all don’t look alike, any more than another group looks all alike.)
But yes, very poorly worded on my end, and I apologize.
Great post, Deesha. Every year, I lament the need for a Black History Month. If only we as society were capable of teaching our children true and inclusive American and world history not filtered through racism and patriarchy.
Thank you Lyonside. I never ? your intent : )
Deesha, I appreciate your POV & ideas.
I have a niece born recently & I’ve been archiving, cutting & pasteing precious info since before she was born. I have to admit that since her birth I’ve paid painfully close attention to how the world would appear to her (I’ve almost reached the level of panic anxiety).
Those who are concerned have come to the conclusion that subsidizing childrens standard education with more specific info about different cultures is one of the best ways to proceed–though it takes more time & effort.
I wish that I could better articulate my concern that people of the nonwhite persuasion–at lease in the US–are putting too much into the assimilation basket to the detriment of the beauty of cultural/racial individuality. We all lose thru lack of knowledge of the history of other cultures/races & thru assimilation desperation. MHO.
I have been fortunate enough to have lived in mixed race communities that celebrate Black History Month for most of my life. I recognize the tendency to pull up MLK and Rosa Park and “call it February” as the OP mentioned. As an adult, teacher, librarian and mother I actively resist that inadequacy. I often wonder what the best alternatives are.
Should we say we no longer need BHM? Should we joke about it not being good enough and then ignore it? Should we try to do it bigger and better every year? Should we try to stretch it out to be 12 months of February?
“In a cross-cultural observance of Black History Month, we ask questions.”
This is what I was looking for. Now I seek the best questions, the best vehicle and the best conversations to present them. Thanks for the challenge.
At my older daughter’s school, I’m working with another parent and the classroom teachers to build a celebration of Black History Month into the existing 3rd grade curriculum. For example, they have been studying Pittsburgh’s history and famous people from the city. Not many of those studied were black, so the first step is to use this month as an extension of that study.
The next step (in the vein of “I wish we didn’t need BHM”) is to weave more black Pittsburghers into the core unit.
I’m thrilled that the teachers don’t just see this as something to do this year because my child is in their class, but rather they have a desire to make this a permanent change in their curriculum.
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