While I like the History Channel, its constant barrage of World War II shows leavened with “Mysteries of the Bible” gets old.
Last week, though, I was happily surprised by an informative biography on George Washington Carver-turns out he did far more than invent peanut butter. Clearly, Carver equals Edison and Tesla in inventiveness, but he does not seem to get the same recognition. Except, I realized, during February-Black History Month.
Originally intended to highlight neglected parts of American history, Black History Month has instead made history into a “separate but not equal” institution. Rather than actually include Carver in our general historical consciousness, we forget he exists for 11 months of the year, and the main thing we consider during February is his skin color, not his achievements. While that certainly implied overcoming discrimination when Negro History Week, the predecessor to Black History Month, was founded in 1926, it does not today. The institutionalized hurdles are gone.
In my pre-college schooling I learned Carver was black, not that such a label caused colleges to refuse him admittance and prevented him from receiving his degree until he was 30. Nor did I make such a leap of thought. The serious difficulties Carver and his generation faced-obvious in 1926-are not so clear today.
Instead, the month tells us that black history is somehow separate from everyone else’s history. Instead of being integrated into history, blacks are kept outside of it by discussing them in a separate context and time.
Black History Month wrongly gives the impression that blacks are so fundamentally different from the rest of society that they have a completely separate history. For a child, it’s easy to decide since she is not black, why should she care about black history? Is she even allowed to view it as her own, or is it something for blacks only? Segregation and ignorance are accidentally achieved.
Also, because our society is more egalitarian than any other before it, Black History Month resembles special treatment. Some say the recognition is just an indicator that blacks cannot succeed without special help and use it to prop up their racist beliefs.
Others, instead of connecting it with the institutional racism common in the ’20s, simply resent the special treatment. Cue the common rebuttal: “Well, if we had White History Month, that would be racist.” Neither has a place in today’s increasingly colorblind society.
Even if one realizes history belongs to no one, celebrating Black History Month reinforces the primary tenant of racial discrimination: that people of different skin colors and ancestries are fundamentally different.
We know a person’s merits are not connected to the color of his skin, but Black History Month, along with affirmative action, political correctness and the concept of race itself, continues to hammer in the fallacy that skin color matters.
Instead of segregating our history, we should share it. History belongs to everyone, as we can all learn from it. George Washington Carver, Booker T. Washington, the 332nd Fighter Group and everyone else who left their mark on history despite racism should be praised for their achievements in the face of adversity, but their skin color should be no more than a footnote.
Don’t celebrate the colors we see in history: black, white or aquamarine. Celebrate the people.