My first celebrations of Black History Month were informal lessons — reading history books and attending special annual programs.
I remember drinking in the stories trying to quench my ignorance about icons of Black history like Dr. Rebecca Lee Crumpler, who in the 1800s became the first black female doctor in the U.S. Crumpler attended Massachusetts’ private West Newton English and Classical School, and, in 1860, the New England Female Medical College. Then there was track and field star Jesse Owens, who won four Gold medals in Berlin’s 1936 Olympic Games, thereby upsetting Adolph Hitler’s plan to showcase white champions and Aryan superiority.
There are too many others to note here, most of whose names were often deliberately left out of history books or whose contributions were callously diminished. I was thrilled and proud to learn about how they bestowed their talents upon America, despite steep racial obstacles.
When historian and publisher Carter G. Woodson created this annual celebration to honor Black history, he could only envision one dedicated week. Now even the month-long February celebration seems too small, especially as some Black history is still being discovered — like the brilliant Black women, the so-called “hidden figures,” who served as “human computers” for the early U.S. space program.
Learning about the accomplishments of African Americans like them, I couldn’t have imagined that I might one day sit at the feet of some of these pioneers and get to know them personally, ike the diminutive and feisty Dorothy West.
I have many cherished memories of warm conversations with the author of the novels “The Living Is Easy” and “The Wedding Party.” Dorothy West lived out her later years in a small cottage on Martha’s Vineyard. She was the last living writer of the Harlem Renaissance, the vibrant and exciting time during the 1920s and 30s in Harlem, New York, when black writers, singers, visual artists, dancers and public intellectuals took part in a cultural revival.
West was one of the youngest of a group including Langston Hughes, the celebrated poet, author, novelist and playwright whose poems dazzled his peers and the critics, and which today are studied and admired by most students of literature and poetry. West shared many tales of adventures with her close friend, whom she called “Lang."
I was incredulous when I first heard her refer to this literary giant by a nickname. “Lang!” I said to her, “You call Langston Hughes 'Lang'?!” She laughed, saying, “Of course,” and reminded me that at the time neither he nor she thought of themselves as living history, adding, “We were just living our lives.”
So many talented African Americans will soon be additions to the Black History Month roster for the next generations to learn about — Stacy Abrams, Colin Kaepernick, of course, and sadly, 17-year-old Darnella Frazier, who videotaped George Floyd’s dying breaths.
Black History Month creator Carter G. Woodson would no doubt be astounded to see how the history he treasured has been embraced and integrated into schools and civic activities. It’s about time — because Black history is American history, and we should all know the story.
