My upbringing included a household rich with American history texts and parents dedicated to educating me about Black history—its existence before, in spite of, and beyond the era of slavery. However, at 17, I heard classmates assert with conviction that slavery held no economic significance for the U.S. This experience revealed to me that the absence of varied historical narratives not only concealed the story of my community but also disadvantaged all students by withholding essential knowledge crucial for a nuanced understanding of America’s historical backdrop.

This situation has regrettably worsened. In 2023, Florida announced that students would learn how enslaved Black individuals in the U.S. “cultivated skills which, in certain cases, could be utilized for their own advantage.” Upon encountering this news, a fierce anger ignited within me at the gall of attributing Black people’s survival to slavery rather than to their inherent resilience amidst perilous conditions. Rather than advancing towards a curriculum that might introduce depth to the human experience of Black people in U.S. history, these lessons on slavery risked oversimplifying our narrative even more than during my own schooling. 

Currently, efforts to eliminate Black history are increasing. The removal of Black Lives Matter Plaza, funding cuts for public broadcasting, the Department of Defense declaring “identity months dead,” and the abrupt dismissal of Carla Hayden, the influential Librarian of Congress who championed diverse viewpoints in public information, have all caused widespread concern among scholars and educators nationwide. 

In the wake of President Donald Trump’s actions like these, the phrase “Black History Month is cancelled” began circulating on TikTok, a platform where I educate others on Black history. While governmental recognition and safeguarding of Black history are undoubtedly vital, it’s crucial to recall that the government lacks the authority to nullify or obliterate Black history. Grasping this distinction is essential for maintaining optimism in the ongoing struggle to enhance public school history education.

Within American public schools, the instruction of Black history frequently commences with slavery, omitting the kingdoms and cultures of those individuals before their abduction. These lessons often disregarded their traditions, languages, and unique characteristics in Africa, thereby presenting a blank slate that allowed curricula to readily categorize Black people solely as “slaves” and ignore their humanity until it served the purposes of a sanitized U.S. history. While curricula cover the laws and governmental decrees that denied education and progress to the enslaved, they frequently overlook the intelligence and groundbreaking accomplishments Black people achieved nonetheless. Figures such as Elizabeth Freeman, who secured her freedom in Massachusetts through a court case prior to the Civil War; Benjamin Banneker, an African American scientist instrumental in surveying the boundaries for the nation’s capital; and Mary Jane Richards, the Black woman who infiltrated Jefferson Davis’s home as a spy to aid the Union victory in the Civil War, demonstrate that the creation of Black history has never necessitated initial authorization from a governmental power. 

For example, narratives of African heritage have been transmitted across generations. Historical accounts and messages were communicated via field hymns and songs. Even in the most dire circumstances, history was preserved. Throughout generations, these customs have been inherited, developed, and integrated into numerous aspects of contemporary Black culture. Even when statutes rendered our origins and capabilities perilous to acknowledge, we have never sought U.S. approval before safeguarding our own history. 

The 1960s heralded an era of Black pride and emancipation, marked by the establishment of the Black Panther Party by Huey P. Newton. A key component of the Black Panther Party’s initiatives was the emphasis on Black history education. Item five of Newton’s ten-point program explicitly called for education “that teaches us our true history and our role in the present day society.” Supported by studies like the Doll Test, which demonstrated how segregation and discriminatory laws in the U.S. led children to perceive themselves as inferior and fundamentally unequal, the objective of teaching Black history was to transform the belief within the Black community that their identities were adversaries, but rather a valuable asset. Gaining knowledge of the triumphs and intricacies of Black people’s history not only fostered self-esteem but also served as a conceptual tool for self-preservation against oppressive frameworks.

The Black Panther Party faced widespread condemnation and vilification from the FBI and local law enforcement, who, in one notable incident, raided and desecrated a Chicago party branch’s free breakfast program by urinating on it. Nevertheless, the Black Panthers’ dedication to Black pride has surpassed the efforts employed to suppress it. Their principles persist in igniting enthusiasm for Black history, as they illustrate that as long as oppressive systems remain pertinent to the challenges faced by Black people, the preservation of Black history not only dignifies our identity but also serves as a resistance against an unresponsive government. 

My grandmother recently passed on to me a reference volume from the high school where she taught English during the 1980s. This book contained details about 100 significant Black personalities. Within its pages, it presented information on individuals such as Ida B. Wells, Carter G. Woodson, and Gwendolyn Brooks. This book represents a legacy, a baton, that has been entrusted to me. 

It is imperative that we continue to champion governmental acknowledgment of a thorough and multifaceted American history within U.S. public schools. However, it is equally vital to bear in mind that Black history education does not rely on governmental authority and does not necessitate official consent to be learned. The enduring power of Black history stems from Black communities, their unwavering resilience, and their profound influence on society. Black history will endure eternally, for it flourishes and resides within every Black family.