How we celebrate Black history every day, not just in February
When I was approached to write a piece for The Morning Call in observance of Black History Month, I paused and reflected on how I observe the many contributions of Black Americans to the United States of America. The honest answer is that there is no specific day or month when I observe Black History Month. I have come to the conclusion that Black history is fundamentally and inextricably part of my life in the same way that it is woven into the fabric that is the tapestry of American history.
My 7-year-old daughter and I recognize Black history on Sundays, when I wash, detangle and style her hair. She compares her tight curls, which she prefers to wear in braids, to my locs. We find hairdo inspiration while watching “The Hair Tales” and listening to Black women share their unique hair journeys.
Our family acknowledges
Black history on Loving Day, our wedding anniversary, or any day when my children ask questions about our mixed race family. Our children are keen observers of the world and how families come in many different forms. Only in 1967 did the U.S. Supreme Court rule that laws banning interracial marriage were unconstitutional, paving the way for other unions to be recognized.
My family honors Black history every time we vote. We know that our ancestors were not permitted to vote. We talk about the many people, including John Lewis, who have fought and continue to fight to ensure each and every person can vote. We honor those sacrifices by never missing an opportunity to make our voices heard at the ballot box.
We found ourselves steeped in Black history during our family vacation to Philadelphia and Boston last summer. We walked through “The Civil War and Reconstruction: The Battle for Freedom and Equality” and “The 19th Amendment: How Women Won the Vote” exhibits at the National Constitution Center and along the Freedom Trail, reading and talking about Frederick Douglas, Harriet Tubman, Dred Scott, Ida B. Wells and Crispus Attucks.
My 12-year-old son and I happened upon Black history while attending a turkey trot in Pittsburgh. As we warmed up along the North Shore, we jogged by the Roberto Clemente Bridge. We chatted about how Clemente, a proud Black Puerto Rican and humanitarian, was my father’s favorite baseball player.
I take advantage of opportunities to explore Black history through art during an afternoon trip to the Banana Factory with my daughter to see the “Heroes” installation by Bart Cooper. We took in pieces named “Sojourner Truth The Green Lantern,” “Rosa Parks Iron Man” and “Nina Simone Wonder Woman.” We left knowing who the real superheroes are and have always been.
We celebrate Black history every birthday in my family. After singing the traditional birthday song, we joyfully sing and dance to Stevie Wonder’s “Happy Birthday.” Sometimes singing this celebratory song leads to a conversation about how controversial Martin Luther King Jr. was during his life or the resistance to even recognize Martin Luther King Jr. Day as a holiday without a compromise nod to the Confederacy.
Many families, including mine, experienced Black history at Springhouse Middle School on history night. Students worked diligently for months to present history projects in papers, on poster boards and in videos. The stories of Henrietta Lacks as well as Katherine Goble Johnson, Dorothy Vaughan and Mary Jackson (“Hidden Figures”) stood naturally next to those of ex-presidents, inventors and other important figures in American history.
A casual conversation while jogging with friends turned into an unexpected lesson in Black history just this month. A couple members of the run group born and raised in western Pennsylvania chatted about how my high school, Woodland Hills High School, did not exist when my fellow yinzer was growing up in the area. It was only created in 1981 as a result of court-mandated desegregation.
For my family, Black history is what we consume, literally and figuratively. We incorporate traditional soul food into our meals.
Our spread frequently includes black-eyed peas, greens and cornbread. Our books, TV shows and movies include Black leads.
Our family portrait was taken on Bayard Rustin Way. Black history is everywhere and all around us. Acknowledged or not, it is there. We choose to acknowledge, observe and celebrate in moments large and small all year long.
On these occasions when I reflect on the history of Black Americans, I am struck by stories of faith and patriotism. There is an unflappable belief that “all men are created equal” even when the Constitution put forth by many of the same founding fathers explicitly denied full personhood and equal rights to Black people. What has followed is a pursuit, a drive, a fight for liberty, equality and inclusion in all facets of American life worthy of observance every day and not just a single month.