Why We Have to Celebrate African American History Month
By Frank Bolden
February 20, 2005
[ Audio
(mp3, 5.7Mb) ]
Good morning. Here at Christ
Church, during the month of
February, we join in the nationwide celebration of African American History
Month. The operative word in that
sentence is “celebration”, which connotes joy, happiness, a pleasant
commemoration. And there is much in the rich
history of African Americans in this country to be happy about. We as a nation can take great pride in the
many contributions African Americans have made in the development of our
country, contributions that have helped to mold and enhance and even protect
every aspect of who, what, and where
we are as a people in the United States
today, contributions that include the moral, social, religious, cultural, and
economic fabric of our society. We have
also made tremendous progress in recording and commemorating that story.
Today, because of
great communication technology, but also partially as the fruition of 79 years of
celebrating negro, black, and African American history, we hear about the contributions
of Condoleezza Rice, Colin Powell, and Charlie
Rangel. We profit from the leadership
of Richard Parsons, Ken Shenalt, and Ann Fudge. And we cheer the performances of people like
Derek Jeter, Barry Bonds, and Hazel Clark.
And on, and on, and on. Our lives are also enriched many times a day by
inventions by African Americans which led to processes and comforts we could not even
imagine living without – inventions such as the traffic light, the elevator,
the dry cleaning process, peanut butter, and (get this one!) cellular
telephones – all inventions and comforts that in most are cases are patented by
African Americans.
Why then, one
might ask, do we still take time, here in 2005, why do we still have to celebrate
African American History Month? The
answer is that in spite of the great progress that we have made, there still
remains much work to be done – not only in celebrating African American History,
but more importantly in making the American dream accessible to African
Americans. We know, from previous
celebrations here at Christ Church, of the gaps that exist between African
Americans and Caucasians in our country in many, many areas, such as health
care, education, earning power, rates of incarceration, home ownership, etc,
etc, etc. These gaps continue to exist,
and in some cases are widening instead of closing. A really poignant point is the plight of
young African American males. In this
country today it is still true that there are more African American males in
the criminal justice system, under indictment, incarcerated or on parole, than in
college. This is not something in which
Americans take great pride. The question
of what happens to these dreams deferred is important to the continual prosperity
of our country, and really deserving of our attention and our prayers.
To me, one of the
most important things that must be addressed, and that each of us here at
Christ Church can play a role in solving, is the pernicious, crippling attitude
of superiority, that constantly, perhaps even unknowingly undermines all hopes
of progress in closing gaps of opportunity.
Old codgers like myself have a lifetime history
of dealing with these attitudes and adjust to them in various ways – sometimes positive,
sometimes not. When I dress up and put
on my suit and tie and adopt my lawyer's persona, I experience less of these
attitudes than other times, but they're still there nonetheless. Like the time when I was leading the
acquisition for my company of a multimillion dollar company, and one of the
lawyers on the other side said to one of my colleagues, “why don't you talk to
Frank – he's pushing kinda hard on this deal”, and my colleague pointed out to
him, “look, Frank is the leader of this team – why don't you talk to him? I can't
talk Frank into anything!” Or like the
time when were going to buy a refrigerator.
It was a Saturday morning, I put on my dungarees, my sneakers, and my
jacket that said “Johnson & Johnson Law Department”, and we went out to one
of the local chain stores. The salesman
was telling us about all these refrigerators and what they had to offer to us. He
looked at my jacket and said, “You work for Johnson & Johnson?” I said “yes”. He said “You work in the Law Department?” I said “yes”.
He said, “Are you a messenger?” I
said “no”. And he didn't know it, but he
lost any chance of getting that sale.
Or the time we were
on a cruise. This cruise started in Istanbul
and went around the Mediterranean, and we were having
tea one afternoon with a couple from Indiana. He was a very successful salesman and he was
telling us about all of his exploits and accomplishments, and he said, “Where
are you from?” and I said “New Jersey”. He said, “Are you from Newark?” I said, “no”. He said, “Oh, are you a garbage man?” And I said “no”. I didn't tell him what I was, since I didn't
want to burst his bubble, but I couldn't figure out why he assumed that I was a
garbage man. Why not a teacher? Why not
a doctor? Why not a lawyer? But we just
let that go. And there are many, many
other stories like that. As I said,
these events occur daily in the lives of African Americans – and they're
extremely debilitating. Not to people
like me, because I've had a history of dealing with them, but to our youth they
are extremely crippling. To our young
people in high school, in college, in corporate America who daily are
discounted – unfairly – under the rubric of affirmative action, equal
opportunity, and now diversity. The
arrogance and the ignorance behind this feeling of superiority must be
eradicated.
We here at Christ
Church are not without
influence. Each of us, on a person by
person basis, can help achieve that goal.
Let me leave you
with why it's why it's very important for us to do that. My granddaughter – the most perfect
granddaughter in the world! – is four years old. If you ask her, “Sydney, who
loves you?” her answer would be “Everybody!”, and it's true because she is very
lovable. Last year she relocated to the
Midwest from Connecticut
in the last month of school. And she
came back to spend some time with us this summer. She was upstairs, Penny was
getting ready to put her to bed, and she was playing with Penny's
cosmetics. She said, “Oh Grandma, this
is powder. Good. I can use it.” And Penny said, “Honey, with skin like yours
you don't need powder. That's for old
people, like me.” And she said, “No Grandma, I need it”. Penny said “Why?”, and she said “Because it
makes me white.” Penny said “Well, why
do you need to be white?” She said, “because they won't play with me if I'm not white.” I can't tell you how much pain that
sentence has caused Penny and me this year.
I also can't tell you how deeply the scar of racial rejection has been
imprinted on the mind of my granddaughter.
That's why it's important for us to celebrate African American
history. Yesterday, her brother was
born over at Morristown Memorial
Hospital. Kendall Frederick Bolden. And it's our priority, it's our wish, it's
our prayer, that he never has to experience the type
of pain that she did. It's our prayer
that one day black children and white children can appreciate each other and
play together. It's our prayer that one
day white American adults and black American adults can appreciate each other and
live and work together in the pursuit of the American dream. It's our prayer that one day people in this
country will be judged on the content of their character and not on the color
of their skin.
That's why it's
important for us to celebrate African American history, and we invite you to
join us in doing just that. Thank you.