Reblog: The history of Man by Barbara Lindsay

I'm reading a thoughtful book by the wonderful American historian Heather Cox Richardson titled How the South Won the Civil War. This book takes a look at the history of this country starting with its founding. I'm finding it a challenging read, not because it isn't clearly written, but because back in those days, it was the Republicans who were against slavery (they were the good guys) and Democrats who wanted to perpetuate that institution (the bad guys). I have to keep transposing in my mind who the parties were then with who (whom?) they have become today, when it is Democrats who want to create, for example, affordable health care for all (the good guys) and Republicans who made almost 70 attempts to curb, repeal, and/or modify that plan without offering a better one of their own (the bad guys). It is Democrats who elected the first Black President (the good guys) and Republicans who elected Trump (the bad guys). It is also a challenging book because of how clearly, how glaringly it brings into focus that this country was founded on a broken promise. The Declaration of Independence states "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal..." What isn't stated but is a true founding principle of the United States is "And we do mean men. And by that we mean white men. Specifically white men with property. Basically men like us. And no women. Definitely no women." I understand that a lot of countries have been founded on less than ethical terms, through violence or confiscation or the notion of the Divine Right of the few, etc. But in this country, we have this document shouting out our moral superiority and our commitment to equality. And, sadly, the promise of that document wasn't even being kept by those who wrote it, who saw Negroes as only partially men, Native Americans as dispensable savages, and women as baby makers who help men in their pursuit of happiness. We are paying now for the rot at the core of our national birth. We have always been paying for it. Some, of course, pay a higher price than others, but all of us pay as our hypocrisies and cruelties continue to catch up with us. I can't speak to earlier ages except from what I learn from books, but I know about this present time that violence has been encouraged from the highest levels of government and so is blossoming. Too few people have too much, and too many have too little. And those who have will do what they can to keep and increase what they have. For some, no amount of wealth is enough, and damn those who have nothing. Another part of why this is such a sad truth is that it has always been so, from the beginning of time. Those who have power and stuff do what they can, what they must, to hold onto what they have, using violence, twisting laws, breaking promises, organizing armies. It seems to be in the very nature of humankind. Or is it just the nature of mankind? What kind of world might this be if women had had, or been given, equal power, equal say all along? Ah, but if women had power given to them, that power could also be taken away, and to take it for ourselves would probably mean becoming more like the men who take and take and take in any way they feel they need to. I don't know. I guess the only resting place, for me at least, is to acknowledge that the world is as it is, people are as they are, and my job is to do whatever good I can, to be kind, be honest, be aware of others. I suppose that's the only way there can be any sort of balance among people and peoples. Good people must be good, even if we will never be powerful. I don't hold out much hope that my attempts at goodness will solve a single one of the world's problems, nor even my neighborhood's problems, but still, it's what I can do, it's what I have to offer, it's the only way I will be able to live peaceably with myself. Still, can we all just get along? Musings from Granny Owl

About Black History Month

New names, new faces, and new knowledge pop up on our television screens and Facebook and Twitter feeds each February. It’s Black History Month. These 28 days, we can subscribe to receive daily emails and listen to podcasts that inform us about people and events we’ve never heard of before. It’s a time of discovery. That’s both the beauty and the pity.

Black History is American History. The pity is we should have heard and learned about this stuff before. In school, in books, and in movies. It could have been passed down from our parents and grandparents—had they learned it.

 Honoring and celebrating one’s heritage is exciting and uplifting. When Dr. Carter G. Woodson and a few of his associates began Negro History Week in 1926, their intention was to bring the history as a way of instilling pride, as well as knowledge, in the Black population, particularly school children, by telling the stories of the heroes in their ancestry. Woodson also felt we needed to focus on the countless black men and women who had helped elevate civilization.

Woodson advocated for study throughout the year, with the week in February being the culmination. He saw it as a celebration showcasing what folks had learned all year. Negro History Week became popular in some southern states, so Woodson and his associates went about making it happen. They set a theme* for the annual commemoration, and provided study materials—pictures, lessons for teachers, plays for historical performances, and posters of important dates and people.

As early as the 1940s, Blacks in West Virginia expanded to celebrating the entire month of February.   Beginning in Chicago in the 1960s, month-long celebrations began to spring up. Later in the decade, as young blacks on college campuses came to recognize our links to Africa, Black History Month began to quickly replace Negro History Week. Every American president since 1976, from both parties, has issued proclamations endorsing Black History Month’s theme. (That’s correct. I checked on the last guy who held the office.)

The beauty is today we have access to an abundance of information and myriad ways of disseminating it. Everyone can study and be exposed to the history in lessons, photos, graphics, and by video and audio. This means anyplace that depicts American History can weave in Black Americans and the roles they played. 

Each day, we wake and walk in history. When the stories of Black, Indigenous, and People of Color are meshed with those of Whites, everyone will be seen for their contributions to this nation’s story. All people will be in the picture, rightfully visible, celebrated and accountable for the United States’ successes and failures and status quos. That’s when we will truly have diversity, equity, and inclusion— a condition that enriches us all and a United States that can only be deemed “a more perfect union.” 

Photo by Rom Matibag on Unsplash

~ xoA ~                                     

*The 2021 theme is “The Black Family: Representation, Identity, and Diversity”. Future and past themes can be seen at https://asalh.org/black-history-themes/

Photo by Larry Crayton on Unsplash