MLK's birthday is a significant (but tough) day for me
From 1995 until now, my sentiments are the same on January 15
I walked into class with the goal of getting out of my head and focusing on whatever the lesson plan was on that day. But as soon as I sat down, my grad school professor told the class that we wouldn’t be doing any coursework from our Communications or Public Relations itinerary. Instead, we would be listening to the “I Have a Dream” speech in its entirety.
“This is the second time I’ve had to listen to this speech,” one student immediately said.
I don’t know what my facial expression was saying, but I turned around and just looked at her. I wasn’t in the mood for this shit today.
“Not that that’s a bad thing or anything,” she muttered, looking from me to the professor. “I just … they played it in another class.”
ADVERTISEMENT ~ Amazon
As an Amazon Affiliate, I earn a percentage for each purchase with my referral links
What I wanted to say to her:
“Don’t like it? Leave! I heard about almost exclusively white people in American history throughout my entire high school education and undergrad education. I almost got expelled for calling a professor out about ignoring the Harlem Renaissance.
As a matter of fact, I should be sending all of my elementary school teachers ‘thank you’ cards for prioritizing African-American history, where we read more than that one paragraph on Dr. King in these mediocre textbooks. In fact, we read ‘The Autobiography of Malcolm X,’ and went on a field trip to see the Denzel movie. We read ‘Roots’ from beginning to end and wrote reports on it while we read each chapter.
Our class regularly went to the Carter G. Woodson Library. We knew who Garrett A. Morgan was. We could recite Gwendolyn Brooks and Langston Hughes poems. We knew who Rosa Parks was and Claudette Colvin. I lost count of the number of times we visited the DuSable Museum and devoured Egyptian history. But after I turned 13, it’s like all of those parts of history disappeared into educational oblivion.”
What I actually said: Nothing.
I just looked at her before the lights were turned off. Then I turned in my seat and did not listen to one single solitary word of that “I Have a Dream” speech. Why?
Someone else was on my mind.