Over Black History Month, I’ve been privy to so much celebration of larger than life Black activists, creators, musicians, and humans. But I wanted to share some of my dad’s stories that I have carried with me and that will remain in my family.
My dad is 72 and lived during the height of the Civil Rights movement. He witnessed the murder of Martin Luther King, JR. He witnessed ‘mulatto’ being removed from the census. He witnessed Loving Day (1967) become main stream.
My dad is a tall man, but is pretty unassuming. He carries himself highly, but mostly likes to keep to himself. He demands respect thru his kindness and selflessness. I get almost all my features from him-eyes, nose, lips, cheek bones, smile, undertones-everything, but the melanin. I’m slightly more fiery than him, but I do carry a lot of his calmness and thoughtfulness.
Now let me tell you a couple stories:
There’s a story my daddy tells of living in the south when he was a kid. He’d go to school and Mr. Jenkins could silence the hall with a small throat clearing. That was the person my daddy emulated. The person he wanted to be and the person he is today. He’s the person that does things so quietly that you barely notice, but he makes a monumental shift in the room.
Another story was when he attended Jr. College. He was one of the FIRST four Black students at the school. The student’s cars were attacked, they were called names, they were ostracized. But my dad doesn’t talk about this time in a negative way. He talks about it on how he became him. How he faced adversity and instead of being angry about it, he stood in it and learned how he DIDN’T want to be.
The last story I’ll share is when he resigned from the military. My dad entered the Air Force after school, he never flew (he’s afraid of heights), he worked with the computers (he’s a programmer). At one time, they were working to develop a new highly lethal bomb and how to deliver it. My dad walked away. He didn’t want to have a hand in destroying the world, he wanted to have a hand in stabilizing it.
These are the stories of my dad that I’ll be passing to my students and my children. It’s my personal history.
As we wind down Black History Month, I’d love for you to share a story that made a difference and how you’re going to carry that with you for the rest of the year.