Each year, the Association for the
Study of African American Life and History (ASALH) sets a
theme for Black History Month. This year the
theme is Black Resistance. It is appropriate
for a time such as this because it reflects
the work we must do in a climate where there
has been active retrenchment of our rights.
The 2022 elections reminded us that voter
suppression efforts continue to erode our
voting rights. The reduction of our voting
rights is taking place as we prepare for the
2024 election. Already the far right and
their allies are attempting to steal the
2024 election by sidelining as many voters
as possible. This will pressure our voting
rights organization, and I know they are
equal to the task. Their work to prepare for
2024 is the epitome of Black resistance.
In
the
academic realm, 36 states have passed laws
restricting what can be taught in
classrooms. These laws are specious and
ignorant. Some say teachers can’t teach
“critical race theory,” although no one
attempts to introduce a higher-level legal
concept to K-12 students. Others vaguely say
nothing can be taught to make students “feel
uncomfortable” about their origins.
Enslavement was uncomfortable. Lynching was
uncomfortable. Undoubtedly, Tyre Nichols
felt “uncomfortable” when beasts with badges
beat him to death over a traffic stop. What
many people do not know about American
history is bound to make them uncomfortable.
But as my grandma used to say, “ignorance is
bliss.” We in academia must use our
resistance to repel these malicious efforts.
It is past time for us to ensure that our
collective history is reflective of reality.
Nobody wants anybody to “feel bad.” Instead,
we want to take the truth and build on it.
There is so much to resist that we
must also resist the urge to become “too
tired” to fight back. I’m ashamed to say
that, years ago, I said that I was tired of
marching. Wrong! We can never be too tired
to march, protest, or stand up for what is
right. I am profoundly grateful to the folks
in Black Lives Matter who show up and show
out in the face of injustice. In Los
Angeles, they show up regularly to resist
the anti-Blackness that riddles this city.
In Washington, DC, people show up to protest
land use decisions that push poor and
moderate-income people out of the city. In
Memphis, folks are showing up to protest the
murder of Tyre Nichols. They are resisting,
as we all must.
Self-care is also a form of
resistance. While we can never be “too
tired” to resist, the wise among us will
know when it is time to take a break. A
leaky vessel can’t carry anybody’s water.
When we are broken, we can’t heal anyone,
much less our community. When we are healthy
and whole, we are effective warriors. When
we are not, we must ask ourselves if we are
bringing our best selves to the struggle.
Nearly 150 years ago, at the end of
Reconstruction, African Americans faced
resistance to our post-enslavement gains.
Black Codes and Jim Crow laws were passed.
Vagrancy laws were passed. Those African
Americans who had attained some wealth and
status, including elective office, found
themselves under attack. In that context,
people like Ida B. Wells began to document
lynchings to ensure that we all knew about
the many attacks we were facing. This
present period is reminiscent of the
post-Reconstruction era when obstacles were
created to prevent further progress in the
face of Black gains. It is no accident that
the presidency of Barack Obama was followed
by retrenchment in the subsequent presidency
of the Orange Man, and Vice President Harris
has been attacked in both racist and sexist
terms. White resistance to Black progress
must be met by Black resistance to
ignorance. That is our challenge this Black
History Month.
Our resistance must be structural,
but it must also be personal. We must make
decisions about how we resist, but we must
resist. “Power concedes nothing without a
demand,” said Frederick Douglass. What are
you demanding, and how far will you go to
ensure that our collective social and
economic justice demands are met?
