The Necessity and Significance of Black History Month

I recently overheard a heated debate between two young co-eds about the purpose of Black History Month. One was saying it was not necessary to designate a whole month to the history of one group of people; the other was saying that without Black History Month, many Americans would never know about the significant contributions of African-Americans to American society and would never be exposed to Black culture.

As Morgan Freeman explained in a 2005 interview on 60 Minutes, one month is not big enough to hold all the contributions of Black Americans to this country. I agree with this statement and for this reason, fully support the programs and events produced during Black History Month. I do, however, have a philosophical problem with its existence.

Let me explain: Black History Month was originally designed for academics to explore significant contributions Black Americans have made to this country. It then expanded into mainstream society and had an impact on curriculums. I was involved in the academic movement that promoted the necessity of a full month publicly dedicated to Afro-American awareness. I got it, not just as an academic endeavor, but as an essential need of the American identity and wholeness of spiritual well-being.

As I studied the required subjects in elementary and high school, I sensed an unbalanced dis-ease of self-awareness. In 4^th grade I learned all about my state's history; in junior and senior high school, I learned all about American History and Government, and eventually a quick survey of World History. Though what I learned was interesting enough, it left me feeling that the foundational ground of my existence was full of gaping holes that I could unexpectedly fall into and never be able to return to a truth that was ever-illusive.

I didn't suspect my teachers and textbooks of lying, yet I was certain that the stories were colored by others in order to direct my understanding of the world in a prescribed way. I was also certain that the world view that was presented was incomplete, thus causing me to constantly feel off-balance.

When I went to college and discovered courses in the Department of Afro-American Studies, the holes in the stories began to be filled with fascinating characters such as W.E.B. DuBois, James Baldwin, and many unnamed slaves who left records of their lives in hand-written diaries. Many of the stories I learned were the same ones told to me earlier in life, but from a different perspective. As a result, I began to stand on two feet and establish a self-identity that contained more truth and more completion than what I'd been exposed to before.

My philosophical problem with the existence of Black History Month is this: it allows our society to keep the cultural jewels and rich stories of African Americans in a box that is only opened in February. Only Martin Luther King, Jr. and a few other greats have found their way into mainstream history books and required curriculums so that our children continue to be told the same stories of our country with the same gaping holes that I was told. Such imbalance is not good for forming authentic identities and nurturing a healthy spirit.

I do not argue the necessity for Black History Month because it offers us one avenue to openly and creatively fill the gaps in the American story. Without Black History Month, the beats of Black American culture would be even more muted than they already are. But I dream of a day when all of our stories are incorporated into all aspects of our society so that our children grow up knowing that no matter what color their skin is, Black skins and White skins had an equal impact on the forming of our identity.