Why We Need African American History Month
A Commentary by Frank Bolden
February 2, 2003
bruary
is African
American History Month in North America, a custom that began in 1926 when Dr.
Carter G. Woodson, a noted African American historian, attempted to address
the exclusion of African Americans from history books and curriculum, except
for the chapters on slavery. This exclusion and distortion of Africans'
contributions to American history led no less a figure than Professor John
Burgess, the founder of Columbia University's Graduate School of Political
Science, a very important figure in American scholarship, to define the
African race as “a race of men which has never created any civilization of
any kind.”
The concept of
studying the history of Africans in this country caught on and each year from
1926 to 1976 one week in February was designated as Negro History Week. In
1976 the title and scope were expanded into what we now call African American
History Month.
Here at Christ Church
we have joined the celebration in various ways through sermons, presentations
and music all designed to herald the achievements of Blacks both in this
country and abroad. In recent years we have sung Negro spirituals, explored
the struggle for civil rights and examined the disparity between black and
white Americans in employment, education, health and justice.
This year we will
celebrate the custom in similar style beginning with a sermon by Chuck next
week. This morning I would like to share with you my current answer to one of
the most frequently asked questions about African American History Month. WHY
DO WE NEED IT? Meaning do we really still need to do this in 2003?
My answer is
absolutely! Now more than ever before. You've heard the old sayings “A people
without a history are a people without a future,” and “One who doesn't know
history is doomed to repeat it”. But there are other reasons to celebrate
African American history.
As a child this custom
never trickled down to me, neither in Georgia where I was born nor in
Brooklyn where I was raised.
As a young man I
thought it was neat to learn about the achievements of Black inventors,
physicians, diplomats and educators who contributed so much to the prosperity
that is America.
As a father I relished
the opportunity to teach my children that they belong in this country, that
beyond slavery, Blacks have fought and died to earn and protect the freedoms
that are so dear to us all, that we as a people, in spite of tremendous
obstacles have contributed to every aspect of those things that make the
United States great, that they can be proud of their heritage, that they
belong anywhere they want to be, that they are not any better than anyone
else but that no one else is better than them, that they have the right to
work for anything they would like to have.
But you know our
efforts to teach those lessons were never enough to counter the pernicious
effects of the prejudicial attributes generated by years of ignorance,
distortions and exclusion surrounding the history of African Americans. My
children's credentials were and still are always questioned, their work
always challenged and their roots never ever acknowledged.
Today as a
grandfather, I am bound and determined to help insure that my grandchild
knows her heritage because that is an essential element in the development of
self-esteem.
One of the most
damaging effects of the Black Diaspora is the complete obliteration of our
history. I believe history and heritage are the roots that ground us and
enable us to withstand the doubts that hamper creativity and productivity.
That is why people build monuments, statues and record ever so carefully
every detail of their daily lives, to serve as a guide to the future for
their children and their children's children.
With the strength to
withstand doubt that comes from the knowledge of history, and the power to
overcome obstacles that I believe comes from our faith in God, all things are
possible, even peace and respect and love for each other. That's my dream for
Sydney.
Of the hundreds of
statues you have seen in your lifetime throughout New Jersey, in Washington,
DC, in your hometown, of all those statues how many of them have been of
Black men or women of achievement? Besides the Vietnam memorial on the mall
in Washington, most people come up with zero as an answer to that question.
Why is that?
Could it be the result
of our failure to accurately record or to pay attention to the contributions
of Blacks to our society?
You know of Edison,
but do you know of Garret Morgan who invented the traffic lights. Did you
think of Dr. Charles Drew when that blood transfusion saved your loved one's
life during that last operation?
Do you think of
Frederick Jones when you open the refrigerator to get a cold drink on a hot
summer day? Probably not and they are just the tip of the iceberg when it
comes to the contributions of African Americans to every aspect of our daily
lives.
Yes, African American
History is important. Not so much for me but for my granddaughter. She is
going to get it and I thank you for helping to keep this celebration alive,
not only for her, but also for your grandchildren.
Those are the thoughts
I prepared to share with
you this morning, but a funny
thing happened on my way to Church. I play tennis prior to church, and this
morning I told my tennis buddies I had to leave early. They of course wanted
to know why, so I shared by thoughts with them.
One of them, Dr.
George Collins, told me the following. He said, “Frank, history is not
static. It is evolutionary. It is a collection of facts and data – but every
time you review it you see something new. You get a different interpretation.
That's why we haven't seen the last biography of Lincoln or Adams or
Jefferson – and every one will be different and better than the last.
“The real value of
history is how that evolution is
utilized in the creation of the future. The richer the history, the richer
the future. That's why it is important to celebrate African American
history.”
Thank you.
© 2003. This commentary is the copyrighted property of
.
