It’s black history month.
A month when people of all races and religions study and learn about a culture very much oppressed.
They discover all of the things that blacks have offered to society, to the world.
Yet, still, at the end of each month, I feel as though something has been lost on the world in terms of, “black history” and “the black person.”
And sadly, it comes from those black, white, Asian, those of every culture, race and religion.
You see, a textbook cannot simply describe to you what it means to be black,
A moment in history cannot simply confer the pain felt by those that have had to deal with prejudice and discrimination.
Because you see, what it means to be black is not what the world has defined as “black.”
What it means to be black does NOT mean that my black is the same as yours.
Being black is NOT knowing the name of every rapper,
Being black is NOT being called ghetto or being stereotyped.
Being black is NOT attempting to fill oneself into the hole that people have set forth for you.
Being black is being strong.
Being black is being is being determined.
Being black is being told that “you couldn’t have possibly written that paper,” and going on to receive a PhD because since when did the color of your skin dictate the level of your intelligence?
Being black is rising above.
Being black is learning how to see the world in color.
But most of all, being black is being human.
Just like everyone else.
So the true lesson of the month?
Who are you to tell me that I’m not important?
And better yet, who am I to let you?
Afterall, it’s black history month.
Let me educate you.