It’s February which is Black History Month, for those who have been under a rock for the past few years or decades. For years I’ve felt like this month has been vaguely addressed in our educational system. Although the news and certain TV programs appear to be plagued with the more negative aspects of African Americans and African American culture, let us not forget that race doesn’t determine ignorance. People of all race, ethnicities, religious creeds, genders, etc. are subject to ignorance, crime infested lives, evil ways, etc. Let us also not forget that there were and still are many positive African Americans who have been and are assets to our society. More than half of the things we use, including light bulbs, A/C, ice cream scoops, cellphones, traffic lights, etc. are all available to us via the intelligence of an African American inventor. My ancestors strength, courage, wisdom and nonstop fighting is what has gained African Americans the sense of freedom that we are able to enjoy today. When I read back through history books or watch certain movies such as Roots, Queen or Rosewood, it’s almost as if I’m in disbelief that people were treated so poorly. I can safely say that there is no way in all hell that I could endure what my ancestors did. There is no way that I can be beaten, raped, underpaid, and ill-treated and remain silent and steadfast in prayer that one day things will get better. Plain and simple, I am not cut out to be a slave of any sort. I wouldn’t have made it. Lol.
The past makes me look at the present and appreciate from whence we have come. Sadly, I can still see the need for progress, not just amongst those in the African American community but also those outside of it whom we deal with on a day to day basis. The fact stands that in 2011, I was hugged and praised by African American patients at my school’s clinic for being the first African American they’ve seen with a white coat on in 20 or more years or just EVER. It was indeed a tear jerking, humbling experience. The fact remains that in 2011, I was the first African American student optometry clinician to work at a VA hospital in a certain part of Alabama. The fact remains that some of my patients won’t allow me to see them as a health provider because I am African American. Just last May, my family and I were stared at until the point that we were uncomfortable yet we continued to eat our breakfast in a McDonalds in southern Illinois. The fact remains that it’s 2012, and I’m still experiencing rude glares, my money is placed on a coutertop instead of in my open hand and I’m still often dismissed as if I’m inferior to some others when my IQ is probably higher than most of theirs. The fact remains, that my colleagues refer to their African American patients as “these people” or the African Americans in the surrounding neighborhood as “sketchy people”. Some of them had never had personal contact with an African American until recently. The fact remains, that most of my first year in optometry school I was consistently asked if I was and sometimes told that I was a worker at the school. I guess the fact that I was a tuition paying student was just too much to handle at once. The fact that sitting in a classroom of about 168 students, only 6 being black, racial comments and jokes were made about where to find drugs, “these people,” and so forth. The fact remains that one of my fellow African American colleagues was directed and an attempt was made to escort her to the clinic because she and her husband were assumed to be patients. The fact that the photographer at my school has been trained to come find me and ask me to be in photographs for the school and videos for the school because he essentially needs a “poster black child” is just ridiculous. The fact that I, as a human being, have to deal with being called racial slurs and face racism head on in 2012 is just sickening.
Although I’ve achieved many great things thus far in my life that I give God all the glory and honor for, I can’t help but to reflect on where I’ve been. I was the only African American represented in most of my classes from elementary school, to middle school, to high school. I had all of the high scores on standardized testing, an above average G.P.A. and had been on honor roll my whole life but wasn’t in honors classes until 6th grade when my favorite teacher in elementary school finally said enough is enough and decided that what this school wouldn’t do, maybe they could get the next to do. I didn’t get to G.T. (Gifted & Talented) classes until 10th grade when they discovered that my mathematical ability was that of a Junior or Senior at an undergraduate college or university. Even my peers were shocked that I was JUST being placed in these classes. I graduated #11 or 12 in my high school class, being the only African American female to graduate with honors and as a member of National Honor Society. When asked why all these things took place, no one had substantial answers. Every now and then I ran across a teacher who questioned the system, writing letters to get me where I needed to be. I think the most notable occurrence dealing with race as a child was when a Caucasian boy called me a “nigger” in the 3rd grade. Can you imagine that? I was called it simply because we were told to exit the class in height order and because I was slightly shorter than him, making him the tallest in the class, he had to leave last. I’ll never forget how my African American teacher addressed that issue, stating that she was insulted and she asked him if he thought she was a “nigger” too. At that time, I was young and hurt by the comment… I thought I moved on from it until I saw the boy a few years ago, now all grown up, standing in my job, and all I could remember was the tears that filled my eyes as a little 3rd grader being deemed a “nigger”. Reflecting back, I wondered why someone’s family would teach them such a thing since at that age you are so impressionable. Sadly racism is still alive and well.
In the midst of all the negative experiences I have had, they are nothing compared to what my ancestors experienced. My father banned us as kids from reading or even owning the novel To Kill A Mockingbird because of the experience he faced when he was in high school. He went to an all white male school and was the only African American student in his English class. Like most schools, they would read novels/poems/plays aloud. My father has a speech impediment and didn’t enjoy reading aloud. Each time the students came across the word “nigger” in the book, they would laugh, say it with emphasis and the taunting would begin. It got to the point where the teacher had to ask them to skip over the word in respect for the one African American student in the class. As an older teen, I remember sneaking to go see the play and being plastered to my seat in uttered disbelief that things like what were being protrayed before my eyes really existed. I understand that things like this are very prevalent in my history. It just would be nice if people could highlight the great accomplishments of African Americans instead of the negative or promoting the ever existing racial things that exist today. For someone to think that racism is dead in 2012, you simply haven’t stepped outside your house enough and intermingled with other races.
This month I salute my ancestors who have paved a way for me to do something as simple as being able to read, type or have access to my own blog. They are the reason that I’m allowed to obtain any form of education education including my B.S. from Xavier University and my O.D. that I will be receiving in May. I thank God for progress. I pray that the life I live paves the way for future African Americans to achieve something great. From slavery to civil rights movements to inventions and accomplishments, your history has always been hidden and something that has been frowned upon when we gain to much access to. We, as a people need to educate our kids on their history. I think the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard is that a Chinese colleague and friend of mine was forced to read and watch Roots as a child. Her father wanted her to be aware of the treatment of African Americans and well-rounded in knowledge. In turn that book has been humbling to her and is her favorite book. It’s 2012, it’s time for change… The color of your skin doesn’t determine the content of your character. It starts at home. The smallest effort to promote diversity could end up being a huge change for the better in one person’s life. This certainly won’t happen all at once, but maybe we can work one day and one person at a time. In addition, knowing and owning your history helps you understand the present and allows you the ability to make changes for the future. Happy Black History Month! Be blessed!
Dr. Sunshine504 
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