More Than a Month: One Man's Journey to End Black History Month

Black History Month Has Ended (?)

I wrote this blog for our funders, ITVS. But I thought I'd give you the full, unedited version here:

It's February, time to take a moment-or a day or a week or the whole
month- to recognize, honor, and celebrate the unique and multi-faceted history of the African in America. At least that's what I thought February was about.
Turns out I was wrong.
This seems an appropriate time to mention that I am smack in the middle of making an ITVS funded documentary film, More Than A Month, which follows me on a cross country campaign to end Black History Month (BHM). Through the lens of this journey, the film takes a critical and sometimes comedic look at what it means that we have a black history month and what it would mean if we didn't.
Well, I have some interesting news to report from the field:

Black History Month has ended.

I don't mean it's March 1st. I mean BHM has ceased to exist. That's right. It's over. Gone. Caput.
I cannot tell you exactly when it ended, but it's gone. And, despite the film and the campaign within, I didn't do it, so don't go pointing the finger at me. But you can follow the journey at morethanamonth.org. Okay, enough shameless plugs. Back to the point.

All evidence that I have collected so far, from “man on the street”
interviews, to spending time at a black advertising agency and with
BHM planning committees, to attending BHM events, points to a somewhat
sudden truth: February is no longer Black History Month. Nope. It's
Black PEOPLE Month... meaning anything that has to do with black life and
culture is fair game in February. Anything.

Are you a black author? February book tour!

A black designer? February fashion show!

A black out of work actor? Don't worry. February presents a plethora of
opportunities for you, and most of them won't be historical in nature so you can avoid the awkwardness of playing a “servant.” Well...most of you.

Are you a semi-famous political commentator with a take on racism? CNN has gigs for you, player!

A black chef? At least one national grocery store chain is sponsoring in-store “soul food tasting events”...in February!

Are you a diversity trainer? Seriously, February is your month. Seriously.

Are you black and in a corporate environment? Sooner or later, someone is going to ask you what “we” should do for February. You could make up anything. Really. Try it. I went with free Black History Month haircuts at a local black Barber Shop. Then I saw it actually exists! (Trust me, Google it).

Do you like black people? Prove it. Do something in February! (Again, anything. It doesn't really matter).

Even if you're a black filmmaker making a film critical of these practices, you can write a blog about it...in February!

The weird thing about all this is that it's hard to say exactly what is wrong with these practices. (I can hear some of my more militant people going "What? I can tell you a hundred things wrong with it!" Bear with me). On the surface, it's the celebration of a people, of a culture.  What's wrong with that?

Nothing.

But, there's a thin, sometimes indistinguishable line between honor, celebration and being put in a box, one's culture chained to a particular month. And, if anyone should be vigilant about being chained...okay, bad joke. But seriously, because the history of Africans in America is rife with the struggle to be seen, respected, valued as human, as citizen, as American, we have a particular responsibility to protect this reality. It is not only the responsibility of African Americans, but all Americans. Because if any of our cultures give way to the myth of “white” as the default and everybody else has a little designated spot, then it threatens all of us- my white folks included- because it doesn't reflect the truth of our existence. We, Americans, are a special blend of folks with a history at once violent and corrupt while filled with awe inspiring grace and strength. How we treat the story of our people, the story of us, tells not only who we were, but who we are.

Let's not forget the original point. It's Black History Month people. There's a reason it started that way, with a specific mission to ensure the inclusion of African American history into the American History narrative in education and society, in the hopes that one day Black History Month itself would not be necessary. It seems Black History Month has ended, but I'm not sure if what has taken its place is truly serving this original mission. Hmmm.

That said, I'm on my way to get one of those free haircuts. It's free, people. Free.

With Love,
Shu

That Negro is Crazy, An Introduction (Part Two)

How does one actually end Black History Month...and why?

Driving back from Washington, D.C. I had one prevailing thought pulsing through the synapses of my brain and finally turning into a voice coming from the devil now perched on my shoulder. (He's a tiny fellow, fat and stocky with a beard and a smoker's hack, funny looking in that red suit with horns and a tail. Often too heavy, even for my broad shoulders). He rasped: 

"What the f*@# are you doing? End Black History Month? Nigga, are you crazy?"

The devil on my shoulder, let's call him Cisco, (no reference to the singer or anyone else named Cisco. It just seems like this particular entity drinks a lot- probably Mad Dog, Old Crow, Cisco, and the like.)  the little man, has been whispering to me lately. But now he's screaming. And every word cuts.


What the f@#! am I doing?


America is engaged in two wars, monumental health care reform is being debated in the halls of congress, a staggering number of people are out of work, the immigration debate still rages, black males still occupy prisons in appalling disproportion to other groups. Who gives a s@#! about Black History Month?


Furthermore, even if one acknowledged the need for a more expansive implementation of African Americans into the American History narrative, is destroying the only thing that exists to ensure some measure of inclusion the right path? Isn't that reckless, even irresponsible?


"What the f*@# are you doing? End Black History Month? Nigga, are you crazy?"


Maybe it is reckless, perhaps even irresponsible. I hope not...but maybe. 

But every time I go over this question in my mind, I can't shake the belief that calling for an end to Black History Month is necessary. In fact, in some ways I think it would be irresponsible not to. Let me be clear...

Ending Black History might not be a "realistic" first step, or even the best first step. I'll give you that.  
One could argue that if one wants to improve the exposure of African Americans in the story of America in education and society, you don't start with ending Black History Month.

If you take the crutch away from a man who is injured, he could fall flat on his face.  
Or, he could learn to walk better than he had before. It just depends on when you take away the crutch. 
Sometimes dysfunctional systems have to be destroyed or removed in order that reform can take place. In a sense, the dysfunctional system prevents the implementation of reform. Dysfunction prevents function. They cannot co-exist.

In any case, this film, and the discussion within, isn't really about whether Black History Month should or shouldn't exist. That question has been asked and answered on both sides over and over again. 


The real question is what it means that we have a Black History Month in 2010. The teaching of African American history is woefully inadequate in America's public schools. Standardized tests in most states require knowledge of European history at a rate many times higher than any other history. Still, in 2010, February is the primary time American students are taught African American history. And yet, ending Black History Month sounds radical. This means something. What? 
And what would it mean if Black History Month were no more. Would Black History disappear,never to be seen again? Or would it pave the way for a fervent new mission to ensure the inclusion of Black History in education and society (especially education), a continuation of the original mission Dr. Woodson had for Black History Month?

"What the f@#* are you doing? End Black History Month? Nigga, are you crazy?"


Cisco is right to question. The devil on my shoulder keeps me honest. I hear him, loud and clear. 

With Love,
Shukree

City of Brotherhood, City of Change

There are other school districts that have electives, or even "mandatory electives" where the school is required to provide a course but a student is not required to take it in order to graduate. ("Amistad Commissions" in Illinois, New Jersey, Connecticut, New York, and other states work this way).

And yes, they celebrate Black History Month. But, the framers and supporters of the Philadelphia AA History curriculum say that this is the way Carter G. Woodson, the creator of Negro History Week (BHM's predecessor) intended the February tradition to be celebrated- as a highlight of lessons learned throughout the school year instead of the only time students get most, if not all, of their Black History. (I'm going to start calling it American History featuring black folks!)

This seems like progress. Great progress.

A school district in one of America's major cities recognized a lack of inclusion of African American History in its schools, addressed the issue, and ended up passing an historic resolution to make the teaching of it as mandatory as math or science.

Everyone involved, from Sandra Dungee Glenn, the school commissioner who drafted the resolution, to the board that voted unanimously to approve it, to the curriculum developers, to the teachers that teach it, should be commended.

But somewhere on I-95 on the way back to New York, I felt kind of disheartened by the whole thing.

First of all, someone had to pass a district-wide resolution just to get a district that is two-thirds African American to teach Black History outside of February. Damn.

Second, it passed in 2005. 2005! It remains the only district in the country with such a mandatory course. Today... in "post-racial" 2010!

Now, maybe we shouldn't assume that the inclusion of African Americans in the American historical narrative is deficient in other major (and minor) school districts in the country. To be fair, I haven't read every American History textbook that exists. Maybe ethnic histories are included quite well.

But I'm going to go out on a limb here and doubt that scenario. My assumption is that most cities have a situation similar to Philadelphia's prior to the passing of this resolution.

By no means is the Philadelphia Schools situation perfect. After all, we're still talking about a separate course. Separate. And though I've sat in on classes and read through some of the materials and textbook, I'm not qualified to determine whether the actual education is worthy of merit.

However, the reality that a group of diverse individuals, a school board in a major city, thought the story of African Americans was so critical to the American History narrative that they made it mandatory for all of its students to learn, says something. The fact that it remains the only district in the US to do so...that, my friends, says even more.

With Love,

Shukree

This Negro is Crazy, An Introduction (Part One)

I want to clear something up right off the bat. George Washington Carver did not invent the peanut. I know peanuts is the first thing that popped in your head when you read George Washington Carver. It's the same with me and maybe a hundred million other people in the US. And it's true, the man was responsible for pioneering genetic modification in foods, most notably involving a legume called a peanut. But God invented the peanut. George Washington Carver, as synonymous as his name is with the peanut, is not, in fact, God. I have to start there. If I don't put that out into the world, I'm gonna have an aneurysm.

When I was in elementary school, George Washington Carver, or G "dub" C as I like to call him, was the celebrity of Black History Month. The man invented peanut butter and 104 other ways to consume the peanut. 104! That's like putting out three hip hop albums in a year (a la DMX circa 1990-something... or current lil' weezy but I digress). His seemingly obsessive involvement with the peanut was actually borne from a desire to empower poor black farmers. He figured that the peanut was a crop that was inexpensive to produce, did not require heavy labor to harvest, and could be modified into various tasty meals and a few condiments. It was survival food and, in some cases, could be sold at a healthy profit.

But that's not why I bring up Mr. Carver. I bring him up for what his memory represents.

See, mister Carver's achievements are up there with any great pioneer of agricultural science. But, he's best known- to you, me, and most people we know- as the peanut man from Black History Month. Is that altogether bad? Maybe not. After all, history is not so valued in American society anyway. Ask most people about George Washington (sans Carver) and they'll probably spit out something about cherry trees and not lying. And hell, maybe we should be happy that a black peanut farmer is remembered at all.

But something's not altogether right about G dub's exclusive association with February. Until a teacher pulls out a book in October and says to her students: "Today we're gonna chat about George Washington Carver..." then it seems to me like G dub C is getting shortchanged. His lack of presence during any other month or section of study- at least as far as I can remember- feels like someone saying mister Carver's place is in February, that's where he belongs, that's where he's celebrated, be happy about it and shut up. When I feel that notion, I can't help but feel that this is a notion meant not only for the treatment of history, but for the treatment of people.

"You, black folks, stay in your month." I know this isn't the intention behind behind Black History Month, but it is a legitimate side effect.

The forces speaking this "stay in your place" voice are not just the infamous American antagonists everyone loves to hate: white people (insert crackle of lightning, roll of thunder). In my experience, Black History Month is defended and championed mostly by black folks. Everyone else, white folks included (lightning, thunder), seem to be on the sidelines of the debate or unaware that there's a debate taking place- a problem I will speak to in a later post. Now, I'm not asserting that the defenders of Black History Month do not also support the growth of African American History scholarship and exposure at all levels of education and in society as a whole. In my experience, they do. We share that goal.

Where we differ is in determining the process in accomplishing this goal. I say Black History Month should end, that it procludes the process of the expansion of African American History into the American narrative and, perhaps more importantly, sends a strange message of complicity with "place-ism." They say "that Negro must be crazy."

'What is and what has always been' has a word often associated with it: tradition. And in culture, we- Humans, Westerners, Americans, black people- are lo to part with tradition, no matter the validity of the argument against it.

The truth is that the issue is not Black History Month in and of itself. The question is how do we best ensure the expansion of black history scholarship into the lexicon of American History.

Some say that it can be done while maintaining the celebration of Black History in February. I think that would be great, but I think the time for that has passed. February is so synonymous with anything "black" (some institutions even calling it African American "Heritage" Month- which could literally mean anything deemed black, having to do with history or not, just black people month!) that television programmers to grocery stores to community institutions cannot resist the practice of using February as the month to do their "black" thing- be it having a sale or airing Roots. (Roots is great. I'd love to see it on in June.)

I say that real growth of African American History exposure cannot happen until Black History Month is deemed ineffectual to that goal. Until we say "hey you educators, cultural institutions, media, television, and all others that participate and/or profit from February as Black History Month, we have decided that your concentration on February has aided and abetted a dearth in the exposure of this history in other parts of the year and, as such, we will no longer condone this tradition."

Imagine that...

More to come.

-Shukree

More Than a Month

MORE THAN A MONTH is a feature documentary film that follows me, Shukree Hassan Tilghman, a 29-year old African-American filmmaker, on a cross-country campaign to end Black History Month (BHM). That's right...to end Black History Month.

Through this tongue-in-cheek journey the film investigates what the treatment of history tells us about race and equality in a “post-racial” America.

In 1926, the historian Carter G. Woodson started Negro History Week as a way to expose the little known contributions of African-Americans to American society. In the Seventies, it was expanded to a month and it quickly caught on in schools, communities, and society at large. Corporations got into the act too. I remember the “Heroes in Black History” placemat I would get with my Happy Meal at McDonald's. As I grew older, I tired of the commercial use of Black History Month; the BET Black History Month movie of the week, the television specials about the same stock black history figures, the Budweiser “Great Kings of Africa” poster. Sometimes it had nothing at all to do with black history. In 2003 a grocery store in Atlanta had a sale on fried chicken “in honor of Black History Month.” Had February become the month for anything remotely “black,” even chicken? All of this didn't seem right but I felt powerless to stop it.

In school BHM was the only time I remember hearing about black people, aside from the slavery chapter in social studies. And it certainly wasn't an expansive history. By the time I was ending elementary school I could recite a meaningless mantra: Martin had a dream, Rosa sat down, and Harriet ran some sort of railroad. But Dr. Woodson saw a danger in the continued celebration of BHM. It is said that Woodson hoped the time would come when all Americans would willingly recognize the contributions of African Americans and BHM would no longer be necessary.

Though a noble creation, in my opinion, BHM stands as an obstacle to the continuing struggle for racial equality in America by perpetuating the false notion that Black History is separate from American History and thus suggests that it is less significant, less American. This false notion not only affects the teaching of history, but it shapes the way Americans value each other in society.

Contrary to popular belief, BHM is not a law. I can't go to Congress to have it overturned. But in Washington, D.C., there exists an organization called the Association for the Study of African-American Life and History. This is the organization Carter G. Woodson started in 1915, the self-described “founders of Black History Month.” Who better to end Black History Month than the organization that started it? It is my intention to meet with the organization's president, both at the outset and conclusion of the film, to present my case for the end to Black History Month.

Like any change-agent, I will seek support and gather allies for the abolition of BHM. In the process, I shall investigate places, events, or situations that speak to the film's central questions: What does it mean that Americans celebrate Black History Month and what would it mean if we abolished it? Would black history disappear from the American consciousness altogether if BHM did not exist?

I am confident that I'm not alone in my opinion. I expect to find support but also resistance, and this resistance- the reasons people do not want BHM to go away- forms the drama in this story of ending Black History Month.