We live in a land called America. It was founded on
the principals of life, liberty and the pursuit of happi
ness. America was the land of the free and the home
of the brave, thriving on equality for all and freedom
through revolution ("uhuru ni upinduzi"), and yet
America became the home of one of the largest sys
tems of human oppression in history. America is a liv
ing, breathing Hypocrisy.
Whip, rope, pistol, axe. Cries, blood, sweat, tears.
Bang, hang, anger, confusion. Nigger, Boy, Monkey,
Creature, Trash, Whore, Beast, Bitch!
Our ancestors fought on the ship, they were thrown
overboard. They fought in the cotton field, they were
hanged, shot, whipped and killed. They ran, only to
be hunted like wild beasts by their master. Every day
they fought seemingly endless battles, and lost. Lost
their limbs, lost their sense of manhood, lost their
lives. Yet, a little piece of them won this battle. They
passed on these life lessons to their children who, in
their name, won what we today know as freedom. We
live and breathe freedom, the freedom they never
knew.
Every day we walk on the southern soil planted and
plowed by our great mothers and fathers. Soil fertil
ized by the blood, sweat and tears of which we
descend. And as we walk, we complain about being
tired. Tired from what? When was the last time you
worked shoeless, half-clothed, in a field, under the
scorching hot sun, for 20 out of 24 hours? And you
have the nerve to be tired?
Harriet Tubman was hred, Denmark Vesey was
rired. Nat Turner was weary and Gabriel Prosser was
worn out. It is time to re-evaluate our blessings and
show thanks for the dreams of our forefathers.
In an attempt to educate America about its "glori
ous" history, our grandparents fought for a time when
America could come together as a country and study
the influence of our black history. They were given
Black History Month: a time of recognition for the
great feats that gained black Americans' freedom and
the accomplishments that sculpted society as we know
it. February was a time of celebration.
The question decades later becomes, "Why do we
have a Black History Month?" For 28 days we reflect
on our progression from shameful Niggers to proud
African-Americans but once those 28 days have
passed, where do we stand?
We return to our daily lives, classes, work and
friends, forgetting about all that we have just learned
to simply re-learn it next February. Why is this? Why
do we not celebrate black history every day? After all,
it is our history.
Our inability to continuously honor our heritage
and culture sends a message that the pride of our peo
ple is only important during the one month the gov
ernment has allotted us.
Do we feel we have "made it?" Have we forgotten
from whence we've come? Have we simply lost sight
of the struggle? Take a minute to answer these ques
tions for yourself and join me on a mission to celebrate
our ancestry incessantly.
By Sundarkia Newman
slim98@email.unc.edu
March 2001
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