1981 (Black History)

I was six the day James Baldwin died, and fifteen in ninety-six when Tupac's mother
Cried
Turned twenty in twenty-oh-one when Bush lied, and today in a world where black lives still
Don't matter, I'm way past thirty-nine

But I digress and rewind as I position my birth against and alongside several prominent
Figures and events across time
Thus, cataloging and commenting on the context each text provides, till I reach back and
Find the jewels popular history far too often elides

And then I'm done
The year was nineteen-eighty-one
But before I tell you where I'm from and what I miss, follow me as the timeline shifts to
Eighteen-sixty-two

Three years before the Civil War was over, four years overdue
Which was only a hundred and twenty-one years before I turned two
Yet that's the year Ida B. Wells Barnett was born
Born to rebel and fight for those caught in the net that Jim Crow set, or should I say

Noose
Highlighting the contradictions left over after the North and South called their truce
Only to let loose new forms of discrimination, hatred, and abuse
But what if payback wasn't a payment

America's history wasn't just foul, but a flaker
And our genius well-established in greatness, not new, novel, or nascent
What if I told you we were capable of more than just trying to educate our local neighborhood
Racists

And what if Black History Month covered more than just the basics
Reruns of your favorite male-dominated faces, holding hands, singing amazing graces
Nah
There are far too many hidden figures in our basements, like them sisters at NASA facing

Black girl magic has always been an understatement
But while Black resilience is more blatant, centuries of cultural assimilation leave folk
Determined to overstate myths
We weren't all kings and queens, though it's fun to reminisce and push back

There's no need
We have a rich history and heritage without leaning on problematic hierarchies like these
Likewise, I'm not sure how useful it is to be preoccupied with the exceptionals on anybody's
List

Be it tragic sorrows or accomplished intellectuals
What we miss is the everyday, or quotidian in which we live
Let's look to the masses for the classics and avoid being classist or simply limiting
The avenues for our advancements

Instead of a month, we need a parade, cultural centers, and to stop getting played
They invaded more than just our privacy, frightfully, as John Henry Clark, even blind, he could
See
With all intended irony, back to the days of African primacy, like the Exum, Mali, and

Songhai dynasties, before the diasporic fracture, and intraracial divisions that were manufactured
Between those enslaved Africans dropped off in the Americas and those dropped off in the
Caribbean
Our perspective, pride, and serenity is informed on how far back we go

So I suggest we let go of our fixation with plantation slavery, the Harlem Renaissance
And the 60s
And I mean quickly
Drinking from a stagnant well will do little more than make us sickly

Let's celebrate more than just one segment
Reverse the present
Learn from the past and show reverence, but then let our brilliance flow swiftly into
A future that's not tied to torment

Like I was a ninth grader when I fell in love with Jada, Pinkett, or should I say Peaches
You know, it was a low-down, dirty shame
She was chasing after Kenan, then set it off with Latifah
In Jason's lyrics, she gave black love new meaning, even showed up on a different world

For a few seasons with Whitney and Dwayne
I know it's random, but this too is black history is all I'm saying
Ah
And then there was Deja or Tyra Banks with Omar Epps and High Learner

Man, I owe John Singleton many thanks
He had me wanting to read more, run track, go to college, think about race, and well
Marry Tyra Banks
I was a sophomore in high school about to get expelled another time or two, yet Lawrence

Fishburne was so cool
He had me feeling like being a professor was a thing to do
And uh, I was in sixth grade with no clue before I realized Jordy, Kunta Kinta, and
That brother from Reading Rainbow were the same person

It's true
And when I watched The Wiz, I didn't even want Dorothy to go behind that curtain
I'd have told her to mind her biz
Leave Richard Pryor alone

Stop flirting
Get your dog, click Eels, and let that man finish working
But that's just me
Probably

See, I'm the type of cat that wanted Mr. T to whoop on Rocky
Don't let me put on a leather jacket
I'd have swore I was shaft and Richard Roundtree
So, no

The younger me thought I was real tough
A bonafide Bruce Leroy
Right or wrong in black exploitation films brought me all kinds of joy
So did House Party, The Fresh Prince, and Living Color and Martin, just to name a few

Unfortunately, losing Prince, Lefi, Aaliyah, and Whitney had me feeling 50 shades of blue
Not to mention Nipsey, Morrison, and now Kobe
I'm sick
I mean ill

I eat the Fugees without Lauryn Hill
Netflix with no chill
Six Flags with no thrills
A wedding with no frills

Or even worse, a barbecue with no grills
You really want to know what's black history to me
Stuff like when Nas had that beef with Jay-Z
Chappelle took off overseas the first two seasons of Boondocks

Only thing Morgan Freeman has ever said, and Michael Vick being free
The list is not for everybody
I concede
Maybe just my cup of tea with that much I agree, but hopefully my point was received

Our limited conceptions of Black History Month leave me grieved
Why not let's have fun with it
Wouldn't that be okay
Expanding our perception is key

I wrote this listening to Janelle Monae
Or was it Stevie
I wonder
No, I think it was Tony, Tony, Tony, followed by Marvin Gate, Curtis Mayfield, and Donny

Hathaway
Oh, and the OJs
In that order
Now I'ma drop these last few names in gold cause they important to the black radical

tradition and cause most Februaries they come up missing
But I promise I'll go slow
So, you've heard of Marcus Garvey getting out of prison, Franz Fanon, Sidney Poitier
and Miles Davis I'm guessing

Jimi Hendrix, Bobby Seale, Cornel West, and Sean King
But what about Octavia Butler, Sidiya Hartman, Erica Edwards, and Hazel Carvey
Alice Walker, Audre Lorde, Norah Bessie, Phillip, and Cara Keely
Oh, being black is a wonderful feeling

We stay swinging for the fences like Denzel and Viola
So when each year I get older, I'll be on my St. Cofa, looking back and then forward
Meanwhile Venus and Serena keep getting colder
The blueprint for Naomi and Coco

And just might make you a believer in black excellence like Usain Bolt, Steph Curry, and
Derek Jeter
The list, it could go on and on and on and on
Like Miss Erica Badu rolling around in the mud singing her favorite songs

Now maybe none of these black folk mean anything to you or give you a sense that you belong
But someone does
And you do
Is it a mother, brother, cousin, friend, uncle or auntie, father, teacher, co-worker

Or mentor probably
And what about you
Whose life did you impact while being black and refusing not to crack
In fact, I got a better question

Who helped bring you to wholeness and let go of lack, reject shame and embrace blackness
With both your individual and collective identities intact
I can think of a few
But I'll stop here and humbly submit this poem for your review

Put simply, we are black history
Let's not just be mindful of what we've done, but what we do