32 Years of Black History

Hey. How you doin?

You know, I would tell you my name, but clearly you found my story so it’s quite clear that you already know who I am. Well yesterday was my 32nd birthday, so you know what that means? Exactly. It means I’m half of 60 and I’m getting old, but it also means that during this month that celebrates Black history I now represent 32 years of Black History.

First off, I was born in Greensboro, North Carolina. The home of the famous civil rights movement known as The Greensboro Sit-In, so that means I am a native of a land that fought a historical battle for the better of my people. Coast to coast, my mother Ruby was a west coast chick from Fort Ord, California and my father Joe was born in the south in Greensboro, North Carolina. They met in Virginia as sailors serving in the US Navy in the beginning of the 90’s. By 1993 they were married and had me.

My parents eventually spilt up and had a complicated relationship while I was just a toddler. I have 2 sisters and a younger half-brother. Growing up I would say I lived a great, but abusive childhood. My and my sisters went through things that children should not have been put through, so we had to grow up fast. In all that time growing up I learned a lot about myself as a young Black male.

Learning about the history of my heritage was something that was very important to my mother. During every Black History Month when I was a kid my mother made me and my sisters watch the entire Roots miniseries from Alex Haley. Trust and believe that we watched every second of it because you got a whoopin’ if you didn’t watch every single second and could recite every major line.

When I was seven years old my mother took me and my sisters to the Million Family March, a rally for Black families hosted by the Nation of Islam in Washington DC. That was actually the one and only time I’ve ever been to our nation’s capitol. I had no idea at the time that I was a part of something that was a testament to the sense of unity and oneness that we as African Americans were meant to have. As I grew up my Black heritage became more and more important to me.

I felt that having a good sense of awareness about who I am as an African American was and still is essential. Thanks to leaders like Malcolm X I truly treasured knowledge of self. Even as a big nerd Black artistry is very important and has inspired me a lot as a writer. I’ve even come to appreciate my own family’s role in Black history. My parents, grandparents and even my great grandparents all served in the US military. One of my family members was a Tuskegee airmen, the first Black pilots who flew during World War 2. I also learned the some of my family members were a part of the original chapter of the Black Panther movement in the 1960s.

Fast forward to the present day and I am an aspiring young writer trying to leave my mark on Black History. I have seen a lot of things in my relatively short life. A lot of good, a lot of bad, a lot of happy and a lot of sad. I’m still going through alot even in this very moment. Nevertheless, I am still alive and fighting leave a print on this world that will add to the legacy built by my ancestors.