To continuously engage in generational acts of white supremacy—blackface, discrimination, and even the desire to bring back slavery—towards people of the African diaspora that have strived to fulfill what our ancestors weren’t even sent over here do— overcome, reshape cultures, rebuild what was sought out to be destroyed (our character)—you must not know how lenient we are.
They say it’s so much AN INDIVIDUAL can take. Realize you’re coming for a WHOLE race. We are letting you to breathe. People of the African diaspora could easily rise up at any moment and have this shit looking like the apocalypse for repeatedly being disrespected for centuries and, often times, treated as disposable. We could easily have guns drawn, whips, chains on deck and have you hanging from trees like your ancestors did our people or racially profile like you do our people … We’re not like you. But don’t test us.
We are people. Respect us.
Our features and varying shades of brown are not costumes nor should they be ridiculed because it differs from yours. It’s skin. The varying textures of our natural hair allows up to have options when it comes to styling (braids, flat ironed, ‘fro, etc) and should not be judged or touched because it is unlike yours. It’s hair. We are not animals, or lower than animals. We are people. Respect us.
Organizations, primarily geared to people of the African diaspora (P.o.C., in general), and monumental reflections (ex: Black History Month) will always be celebrated to continuously motivate our people.
“Slavery is in the past. Get over it." No. People of the African diaspora will not end discussions on our past. It is a vast part of American history, along with the history of the indigenous people of this land before the arrival of white people and after the genocide of their people by white people.
We had our own flourishing civilizations. We were the authors of our OWN history, until we were interrupted with white authors that decided to grab our pen and dictate the happenings.
People of the African diaspora will not tear out any pages because you don’t like how your people are described. It IS history. The demise of people created your wealth among other things.
So again. You just don’t know how lenient we are. We are people. Respect us.
NY Times | Published Sept. 27, 1989
To the Editor:
”Afro-American kids are taught white American history, while our own heritage is blatantly ignored,” says KRS-One (Op-Ed, Sept. 9).
Our school, an average urban high school, has offered and given a complete course devoted to black history for more than 20 years. Most other New York City schools do the same.
They also celebrate February as black history month; organize and run Afro-American clubs; participate in essay, poetry and art contests celebrating black America; display black culture bulletin boards, and use curriculum material on such subjects as the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s life and apartheid.
The second term of New York State’s Regents course of study in American history has a unit called ”Who Are We? - What Is an American?” It includes contributions by black Americans to American society. JOSEPH M. PEREZ Ozone Park, Queens, Sept. 11, 1989 The writer teaches social studies at John Adams High School.
Fast forward. People still pretend like these white American history textbooks and lessons don’t exist.
Harriet E. Wilson, a mulatto woman from New Hampshire published a novel on September 5, 1859 with the stated hope of earning sufficient money simply to survive. Instead, her novel Our Nig; or Sketches From the Life of A Free Black, became a powerful and controversial narrative that continues to touch and unsettle readers around the world.
This was the first known American publication by any black person.
Crime, drugs, HIV/AIDS, poor education, inferiority complex, low expectation, poverty, corruption, poor health, and underdevelopment plagues people of African descent globally. 500 years later from the onset of slavery and subsequent colonialism, Africans are still struggling for basic freedom. Filmed in five continents, and over twenty countries, this documentary engages the retrospective voice, told from the African vantage-point.