Don't allow rightwing politicians to cover up our history
When Republican President Gerald Ford officially recognized Black History Month in 1976, he called on Americans to “seize the opportunity to honor the too-often neglected accomplishments of Black Americans.”
He
also acknowledged that Black Americans had shown “courage and perseverance”
when our country had failed to live up to its own ideals.
Today,
even Ford’s simple words would be inadmissible in many American classrooms.
As
of last year, at least 35 state legislatures had introduced bills to limit the
discussion of racial history in their classrooms. At least 16 had passed them.
Over
300 books by predominantly Black authors are banned throughout the country. And educators are
being fined, harassed, forced to resign, or fired for teaching about race.
Little
acts like hanging a “Black Lives Matter Sign” in class can be grounds for termination. In Florida, keeping
classroom books that haven’t been cleared by state censors can be grounds
for felony prosecution.
As
a result, teachers are finding it more and more difficult to teach about Black
history without fear of repercussions.
As
a Black woman, I am not at all surprised by these attempts to whitewash our history. If I were a politician
obsessed with suppressing civil rights, voting rights, and racial justice, I
too would probably want to make sure only my version of the
story gets told.
These
efforts aren’t new, either.
Despite progress made since the Civil Rights Movement to update the textbooks used in U.S. schools, “most mainstream social studies textbooks remain tethered to sanitized versions of history that mislead young minds,” writes fifth-grade teacher and Rethinking Schools founder Bob Peterson.
In
a discussion with Color of Change president Rashad Robinson, journalist and Howard University
Professor Nikole Hannah-Jones argued that this erasure is no
accident.
Hannah-Jones,
the 1619 Project founder, explained: “The same instinct that
led powerful people to prohibit Black people from being able to read is the
same instinct that’s leading powerful people to try to stop our children from
learning histories that would lead them to question the unequal society that we
have as well.”
It’s
why politicians like Governor Ron DeSantis (R-FL) are going to such lengths to
ban Black studies in schools. The Florida Education Department and College
Board recently rejected an AP African American History high school curriculum, claiming it “lacked educational value.”
DeSantis
notoriously signed the so-called “Individual Freedom Act,” also known as the “Stop WOKE Act,” which states that “teachers are not allowed
to make students feel ‘guilty about past discrimination by members of their
race.’”
Much
of Black history in this country isn’t easy to learn, teach, or digest — there
is nothing comfortable about it. But the point
isn’t to make students feel “guilty.” It’s to help them learn.
To
be “woke,” or to “stay woke” — a term originated by African American
communities in the 1940s — is to become “woken up
or sensitized to issues of justice,” as linguist Tony Thorne told The Independent.
The
state of Florida apparently agrees, defining “woke” in court as simply “the belief
there are systemic injustices in American society.” But the state is
manipulating the term, as if it were wrong or “progressive” to believe that
systemic injustices exist.
Thankfully,
many people aren’t fooled. Students all over the country, including in my home state of Pennsylvania, are protesting book bans on
stories of color.
Overturning
those bans would benefit kids of every color. “Having a diverse curriculum will
benefit students in the long haul,” argues writer Nathalie Wilson, because it “helps them to
better understand the complexities in the world.”
I
couldn’t agree more.
Black history is complex. It is also American history. This Black History Month, don’t ban it — teach it.
Tracey L. Rogers is an entrepreneur and
Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion consultant in Philadelphia. This op-ed was
distributed by OtherWords.org.