Darrius Barron
Sports Editor
Slavery, illiteracy, savagery and loyalty to the race that shackled us is where black history begins.
Much like many other African-American men and women, this was the message that was subliminally forced into my head as a child. This is where black history began on Feb. 1, in my public-school days.
There was one public school teacher that taught me how African-Americans descended from royalty, and how Africa was the dawn of all civilization.
Unfortunately, this was my first-grade teacher and once I completed first grade, the black history lessons began with the trans-Atlantic slave trade all over again.
Black history was Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, and Rosa Parks. For days past my teenage years, these people were the focal point in every single black history month lesson that was taught in every grade, at every school I attended.
I never knew to ask why we learned about the same people every year, I just went with the flow so I could pass whatever quiz was given.
To me, Black History Month became more of a chore than a month for celebration of achievements.
I did not grasp the full meaning of Black History Month until years after my high school graduation.
During a social science course in one of Chicago’s city colleges, Professor Leland Jackson taught 30 students just how deep black history goes.
In just 16 weeks, we learned about the royalty from which we came, the hard times that knocked us down, and how no matter the hardship; we stood strong and survived.
No matter what part of the country you reside, we all have had those moments on social media that allowed us to reflect upon how far we have come.
Whether it being someone talking about having to eat sugar sandwiches for dinner or having a “wish sammich,” because you wish you had meat on it; looking back, we cherish those moments because they are a testament to our progress.
Film directors like John Singleton, legendary actors and actresses like Denzel Washington and Viola Davis, superheroes like Lebron James and Serena Williams, shine so bright that they give our youth a star to marvel about. It is important that we do not forget to honor these people during this month.
Black history month is not only a celebration for our ancestors, it is an invitation for you to reflect on your own achievements, and to encourage your friends and loved ones to continue on their journeys.
We cannot hide our blackness from the world, in fear of being called ghetto, sassy, or arrogant.
Every inch of your black skin is a miracle, and every ounce of your black personality is golden.
If you do not believe me, ask the vultures who spend millions of dollars to try and replicate us.
“I am my ancestor’s wildest dream,” a simple quote from a sticker on a Kalin Norman’s (the Flash photography editor) laptop triggered me to count my blessings. Having the freedom to be who I choose, live where I choose, have the confidence that I have, and study with other young black scholars in peace is a luxury that my grandparents could not afford.
I must say, to attend an HBCU like Jackson State is an astounding experience. Celebrating black history month while living on campus at Jackson State is an experience that I will tell my grandchildren about.
While Black History Month is celebrated during the shortest month of the year, that should not stop anyone from being proud and celebrating our progress. It is important to know that black history is far too extensive to be restricted to just 28 days.
People like myself celebrate black history anytime the opportunity presents itself. Anytime you wear apparel that represents your HBCU, anytime you take a chance and quote your favorite rapper on a term paper, or anytime you decide to go natural and wear an afro; you are displaying the pride you have for your culture.
Black people, you are the embodiment of soul, the birth of cool, and the conquerors of destiny. It is time to leave your mark in black history. What will future generations remember you for?
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