We all should know that diversity makes for a rich tapestry, and we must understand that all the threads of the tapestry are equal in value no matter what their color. - Maya Angelou
I wish there was no Black History Month. None. Nada. I wish we didn’t need it. This was also the wish of the optimistic Carter G. Woodson, a Harvard PhD scholar who planted the seed back in 1926. Woodson believed that America “would willingly recognize the contributions of black Americans as a legitimate and integral part of the history of this country,” thereby alleviating the need for what he created.
Fast-forward many decades, when I was in school, wishing that the representatives of black history were equally brag-worthy (like Joey Vertolli in 2nd grade, who was so proud of Christopher Columbus, LOL), and less cringe-worthy (Jim from Huck Finn? Sorry, Teach, kids don’t get satire). And later on, I wish that I didn’t literally fall out of a beanbag when I first heard about Bessie Coleman, who had just as much derring-do as Amelia Earhart. I wish that I’d seamlessly and consistently learned about all these cool people of color who also contributed to the world at large and had meaningful things to say. (Actually I did, but at home — thanks, Mom and Dad!) It’s too bad that many schools still receive a failing grade when it comes to black issues, especially in states with fewer black residents. Fortunately, with Audible, we regularly expand, celebrate, and educate with audiobooks.
Remembering slavery and the civil rights movement are important in the equitable shaping of America, so as not to repeat past mistakes, but there are also the ongoingstruggles, accomplishments, and facets of the African diaspora. So in my below recommended listening list, I include something from yesterday, something from today. Something funny, something uncomfortable. Something strange, something normal … but with a colorful twist. I’d like to think that we could all, every now and then, walk in someone else’s shoes and step away with a sense of oneness and understanding (like, perhaps Chris Columbus just got a bad batch of compasses?). And maybe, just maybe, we’ll prove Mr. Woodson right when we achieve Shared History Year — how’s that sound?
Wow! Eloquently delivered, sermon-style, without anger or bitterness, this is one of the most heartfelt calls to action I’ve ever heard. What he has to say about the racial crisis in our country will make some uncomfortable and defensive, but if you care and can get past those feelings, then we are on the path of sociogenesis:
“Sermons are tough, not only to deliver, but, just as often, to hear. Yet in my experience, if we stick with the sermon — through its pitiless recall of our sin, its relentless indictment of our flaws — we can make it to the uplifting expressions and redeeming practices that make our faith flow from the pulpit to the public, from darkness to light.”
Behind every great man is a great woman. The First Lady of the civil rights movement, Coretta Scott King, lays it all out in this posthumous memoir. It made me smile to learn that she was also a fierce feminist at a time when it was still quite rare to be one:
“I can’t help but believe that at some time in the not-too-distant future there is going to be another movement to change these systemic conditions of poverty, injustice, and violence in people’s lives. That is where we’ve got to go, and it is going to be a struggle.’’
Unnerving, how this classic seems especially relevant today — also incredibly significant because Audible’s founder, Don Katz, was mentored and inspired by Mr. Ellison:
“What and how much had I lost by trying to do only what was expected of me instead of what I myself had wished to do?”
OK, she’s just funny and relatable. In any color. Thank you, HBO, for taking a chance with Insecure:
“They didn’t have to face throngs of straight-haired middle-school girls, or endure the public shunning of cute high-school guys. I mean, sure, they were ostracized and brutalized for their skin color in general, but tomato/tomahto. My mother didn’t know my struggle.”
Not being able to pronounce her name doesn’t exclude you from being moved by her articulate riffs on feminism, sexual identity, race, and so, so much more:
“Your silence will not protect you.”
Ahh, the lilting tones of the Caribbean in your ear, with a bit of magic, real characters, and futurism thrown in for good measure:
“Even she hair itself rough and wiry; long black knotty locks springing from she scalp and corkscrewing all the way down she back ... The only thing soft about Tan-Tan is she big molasses-brown eyes that could look on you, and your heart would beat time....”
Geeky people awaken! Despite the marginalization of black sci-fi writers by mainstream publications, this overlooked gem managed to slip through the cracks and make my brain do Pilates:
“Take concepts like 'distant,' 'isolate,' 'faint,' and give them precise mathematical expression. They'll vanish under such articulation. But just before they do, that's where it lay. 'My star.' Lorq swept vanes aside so they could see. 'That's my sun. That's my nova, with eight-hundred-year-old-light.'"
Partisan politics aside, he reminds me of my own military dad. Plus, the man has a lot of interesting things to say:
“The ties that bind us are stronger than the occasional stresses that separate us.”
I actually wish this one was longer! Dreamy narration caressing poetic descriptions of a group of girls and their experiences in ’70s Brooklyn...:
“Maybe this is how it happened first for everyone — adults promising us their own failed future."
Check out Audible's full Black History collection here.
