S o, let’s talk about this month. Black History Month 2025 came and went with barely a whisper. No flashy commercials. No corporate campaigns. No school assemblies reminding kids of the giants whose shoulders they stand on. The silence was deafening, but it wasn’t an accident. It was a choice. America made a deliberate choice that clarified how they view black people.
Let’s be honest, it wasn’t always like this. For years, companies tripped over themselves to slap a Black fist on their logos and roll out limited-edition products in red, black, and green. We didn’t forget. They might want us to pretend none of this existed, but it did. Schools proudly displayed posters of Dr. King, Rosa Parks, and Malcolm X. Politicians gave rehearsed speeches about equality and justice. It wasn’t perfect, actually it was often hollow but at least it was something for those who loved the symbolism.
This year, the mask slipped. It flew all the way off. Black History Month got ghosted, and if you were paying attention, you know why. Trump made it clear – Black history, Black progress, Black pride… they’re not on the agenda. And the response from the rest of the country? Silence. Compliance. Cowardice. Everyone bowed down because it was easier to ignore us than to stand with us. Which is revealing and satisfyingly ok. Because it’s much more preferable to know where they stand than to pretend they stand where they don’t.
But let’s be real. This isn’t new. They’ve always tried to erase us when we get too loud, too proud, too powerful. Look back at history. Every moment of Black progress has been met with backlash. After slavery ended, Jim Crow rose. When the civil rights movement gained momentum, the FBI launched COINTELPRO to destroy Black leaders. When Black Wall Street in Tulsa thrived, it was burned to the ground. Every time we build, they try to break us. So why did anyone think it would be any different this time? They haven’t forgiven us for electing a black man as President and forcing them for eight years to have to live with it.
And it’s not just an American problem, it is a global one. Nelson Mandela didn’t spend 27 years in prison because apartheid was powerful. He was locked away because his resistance threatened white supremacy. Kwame Nkrumah, Ghana’s first president after independence, was overthrown because his vision of African unity challenged Western control. Across the world, Black leaders who dared to dream beyond oppression were silenced, exiled, or killed. Then, after their deaths or after they spend decades in prison, they either become rebranded and commercially sold, or they are forgotten.
When they say that Black History makes white children feel, umm… “sad,” or whatever the manufactured reasoning is, they say it because they need to erase it. Not because it creates guilt in others, but it creates empowerment in us. Black empowerment enrages them, it makes them feel defeated, unaccomplished, and rejected. What did ‘ole boys daddy tell him in Mississippi Burning, “if you aren’t better than an N-Word, then who are you better than,” something like that. When racists and rodents find us indulging in our peace, thriving and autonomous, it’s enraging.
Why? Because Black empowerment shakes the foundation of systems built on our subjugation. They love us when we’re entertaining (shut up and dribble), when we’re laboring, when we’re voting for their candidates. But the moment we start talking about ownership, of our history, our communities, our futures, they pulled the plug and scattered. To them, we’re disposable. Useful when needed, discarded when inconvenient. And we capitulate, because we are paralyzed by fear of what if we don’t just comply. Now you are seeing the consequences of your compliance and capitulation. Entertaining them, voting for their preferred candidates, and your labor mean NOTHING!
This year’s quiet erasure of Black History Month wasn’t just an oversight. It was a message. A reminder that if we don’t invest in preserving our own culture, no one else will. If we wait for corporations to fund our history, for schools to teach it, for politicians to honor it, we’ll be waiting forever. Let’s be honest too, we allowed a lot of it to be hijacked, redefined, rebranded, commercialized, packaged and sold.
But here’s the truth they can’t erase – our existence is eternal. From ancient African civilizations to the freedom fighters of today, Black resilience has never depended on their approval. It’s depended on us – on our communities, our leaders, our determination to survive and thrive. Relying on others to tell your story ensures that things get lost in translation. And many times they aren’t lost they are deliberately modified. Wouldn’t you rather tell your own story and not the story that is repackaged so an unknown child somewhere doesn’t feel “sad.”
This isn’t just about one month. It’s about recognizing the unhealthy dependence we’ve been conditioned to accept. They’ve shown us where we stand in their eyes – pawns, not players. But we’re not pawns. We’re builders, innovators, protectors of a legacy that stretches far beyond the limits they try to impose. They want you to believe the preceding statement isn’t true, that’s why your history has to be destroyed. It’s resented. It allows you to actually stand on the ground ten toes down. So, you better make sure you know it.
Now, let this be the wake-up call. They didn’t erase us, they exposed themselves. Now, what are we going to do about it? We build. We invest in Black-owned schools, businesses, media platforms, and community spaces. We teach our children the history they refuse to acknowledge. We strengthen our networks so we never have to rely on systems designed to abandon us.
Black history isn’t a month. It’s eternity. And no amount of silence can change that. We write the stories, we tell the truth. We never allow symbolism cloud our judgment again.
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