Analysis | Black History Month is 11 months too short
February marks yet another annual Black History Month, though the conscious effort to learn about and support the BIPOC community was never intended to be restricted to a small fraction of the year. Unsplash
The goal of Black History Month, as originally founded, was not to restrict the integration of Black history into one fraction of the year. In fact, when American historian Carter G. Woodson first pitched the concept of a week-long, annual celebration of Black history in 1926 to what is now referred to as the Association for the Study of African American Life and History, his goal in his own words was to memorialize a “history of the world void of national bias, race hate and religious prejudice.”
That original week culminated in a widely recognized Black History Month (BHM) as early as the 1940s, which became increasingly popularized in the 1960s and was federally recognized in 1970. Despite these small gains, Woodson remained progressive in mindset, at one point even advocating for a Black History Year — a symbolic affirmation of the equivalence between Black history and American history, as well as the inability for any individual to fully understand Black culture within a limited time frame.
“Black history is American history, and the unfortunate part is that we separate the two and dedicate a month to highlighting the history of Black Americans,” said Justin Riley, the faculty adviser for Chapman University’s Black Student Union (BSU). “It speaks to the systemic, institutionalized racism that perpetuates in this country … (that) was built on the backs of Black people. So the fact that our history and our stories aren’t integrated into American history is an embarrassment.”
Riley said teachers have the largest responsibility to incorporate diversity into their curriculum. He suggested faculty examine the authors of the readings they assign, the filmmakers of the screenings they show, the guest speakers they invite to their Zoom calls and the inclusivity of the case studies they analyze. All of these areas, Riley said, are of importance for acknowledging the span of Black history, from past to present.
“I always find myself constantly learning more (every BHM), and it’s one of those embarrassing and disappointing but also really real realities that so many people experience,” he said. “Like, why every year in February am I learning more information about my culture and about my people than I just gained in my regular educational life?”
Deven Launchbaugh, a junior political science major who was in attendance at Chapman’s Feb. 3 Black History Month kickoff event, echoed a similar sentiment. She implored students to actively seek out classes that intersect Black culture within their relative realms of interest, pointing to the vastly expansive and often misrepresented aspects of Black history in contemporary society.
“As I become more aware of how poorly history has been taught to me going to school in the United States, I’m trying to take it upon myself to learn what is actually going on, and also what has actually gone on,” Launchbaugh said. “There were a lot of holes missing in my history education. Over the course of taking classes specified in learning about the parts of history that were covered up, I definitely learned a lot more, but I also learned that it’s really hard to get that information.”
It may have therefore felt like a breath of fresh air for Launchbaugh and others in hearing animator, illustrator and YouTube sensation Kathryn Blaque speak at Chapman’s BHM kickoff. Hosted by BSU and the Cross-Cultural Center (CCC), Blaque engaged in a vulnerable, open discourse about her experience living within the blurred boundaries of two marginalized communities as a Black transgender woman. Details and further events hosted to commemorate BHM can be found on BSU’s Instagram page and the Chapman events calendar.
Appearing on screen with a fresh face practically bare of makeup or any beauty industry enhancements, everything about Blaque’s personality and outward appearance perfectly embodied the authenticity with which she reciprocatively approaches the world. However, she emphasized just how difficult it was to navigate her gender queerness and cultural identity, elaborating on the underlying racism that exists today on social media.
“(Some people) don’t get that I can’t really separate these aspects of myself; I don’t get to just be Black or trans or a woman — these are all one thing for me,” Blaque said. “There is this weird, subtle racial hierarchy of which trans women get to sit at the top. You’ll notice that the most popular trans women on YouTube are usually not women who look like me at all.”
Though rooted in tradition as a celebration of Black history, BHM is more significantly a critical reminder of the indiscrete interconnectedness of race in all elements of life. It calls attention to the indispensable need for allies to inform themselves in the places where the U.S. education system has failed to. And in pursuit of Woodson’s original intent, BHM is a reminder that these efforts should not be confined only to one month out of the entire year.