Was it ever Black History week? I seem to remember it that way as a kid. That question came to mind when I read this newspaper article: Biracial Youths Carve Out Their Own Identities.
How was the week or month celebrated when I was a young kid? I haven't the foggiest. It's not like the memories of classroom Thanksgiving festivities: tracing my hand with crayon on construction paper and cutting it out and then coloring it in as a turkey; or Valetine's Day: counting out the number of valentines on my desk and hoping that Joe Cutest Boy had possibly written something special to me.
Nope, the only black history week or month celebration I remember happened when I was probably seven or eight-years-old. My brother and I were playing in front of the television while the Today show played. My mom came back into the room and shushed us and said something like: "This is very important. He was a great man." The gravity of her voice and message stunned us both into silence, and then we sat and watched a portion of Dr. King's speech, "I Have a Dream." We didn't know it had anything to do with us.
