I still remember when someone said, “Black History Month makes me tired.”
The more I thought about this and just lived life, the month has, in part, become a hilarious performative practice.
Why did I write this article and express these feelings?
Well, you see, I experience what I call a phenomenon every day. I wake up, go to the bathroom, look in the mirror, and see this Black guy staring back at me. I then think, wow, this is new information.
Black history extends past a month and happens every day without end.
We gotta constantly remind people that Black History:
So there’s always something to learn if you make an effort.
But the 28-day month (the shortest in the year) can be seen as a big showcase of “I have a Black friend.” Or as close to it, these very exclusionary sectors try to fool the public.
I always chuckle seeing platforms express Happy Black History Month, and I have to think about whether or not they hire my skin folk.
“Happy Black History Month!” says the company whose Black employees total 1% of its workforce — no shade to y’all with 2%!
“Happy Black History Month!” says the platform with one Black staffer on its team.
“Happy Black History Month!” says the space that hasn’t had a Black individual in leadership…(hold…carry the two)…in never.
“Happy Black History Month!” say the people who only acknowledge Black in February to wave their DEI flag.
“Happy Black History Month!” says the group that learned Black people existed after the murder of George Floyd.