February Fatigue

Do you find yourself as a Black person looking forward to Black History Month (BHM) every year but also dreading it… yes I said dreading it. Today is March 1st, and this year was actually a leap year, so there was an extra day of February sanctioned for one more activity dedicated to Black people. Well as a Black woman with a doctorate and undergraduate degree in Black studies, I get excited at the ability to go about openly for a month discussing the accomplishments of my people and as I have decided as my personal mission to correct history by ensuring what has been taught to the World is corrected. Not simply American perspectives, because America is not the sole culprit in dismissing the essential African place in the history of civilization. I wish to bring about the goals of Negro History Week as it was established by Dr. Carter G. Woodson back in 1926. That was 90 years ago, and in ten years it will have been 100 years ago. So what would we have allowed his legacy, as the father of Black history, become if his original goal of incorporating Black people into all history has yet to be accomplished.

“The case of the Negro is well taken care of when it is shown how he [and she] has influenced the development of civilization.” (BH 27) In 1926 Dr. Carter G. Woodson established Negro History Week in order to “celebrate African Americans’ contributions to U. S. history and culture, [to] instill blacks with pride and self-esteem, and integrate the study of blacks into all American schools’ curricula.” (BH 121) Yet here we are 90 years later still siphoning all Black contributions in history into one month, and who are the individuals sanctioned with the responsibility of this task? You and me my brothers and sisters—you and me.

As I said we are eager for the month, because we enjoy going into primary, and secondary schools into higher education and community venues to hopefully find novice minds of color that need to find that self-esteem and pride that has been lacking because Dr. Woodson’s goals from nine decades ago have still not been realized. The one thing that has been realized is the lengthen of the once week long historical intellectual adventure into a month long celebratory series of events that local Black activists and community speakers are most times not compensated for or a bigger Black name is flown in for major money that could instead continually pay for a diversity based course and initiative that Dr. Woodson would be much more inclined to agree with. And local non-compensated members of the community could become a part of such an initiative to ensure the community gains from it. Dr. Woodson did not agree with organizations asking for outside speakers, he wanted students to do research and to learn about Black history on their own. This is not to say that outsiders cannot be great assets to BHM in certain venues, but often times are the outsiders prepared for the venue and is the audience prepared for them? Nonetheless, the major concern is that after nine decades all of our history is still being compressed into one month. And most Black speakers can only be justified during this month.

Dr. Woodson created Negro History Week not in the same sentiments as those today think of it or rather perceive it. Black History, not specifically the month, is most often perceived now as an afterthought, that thing we need to ensure we mention, and BHM allows for everyone to conveniently place Black History or anything related to Black people in that month and feel as though it was “dealt” with. I recently thought about if Donald Trump became President and if he will sign the proclamation for BHM every year; I have a little concern considering his public unapologetic language regarding people of color, differing faiths and nationalities. I mentioned this in front of a white male who is a federal employee and he said, “oh I’m sure he will.” I thought, yeah he will, to ensure it is dealt with. I know Dr. Woodson would be sick and tired of being dealt with. Because we are.

"So we end up competing."

After the first week of February your excitement starts to turn into, confusion on which events are being put on by who, and when they are starting and how long you knew about it, and if you have more loyalty to go to that one or the other one. Because we all want to ensure our focus about Black people gets shared, and apparently only February is a guaranteed time for an extended community to come out and support. So we end up competing. But you go to everything you can.

You go to everything you can.

Week three you realize you are sleeping about the same amount but you are still tired, you realize it’s fatigue. Fatigue coming from physical appearances and presentations of your own. Fatigue from the extra-long discussions about past Black experiences and how the same issues are still happening today and what are we doing today. Fatigue from planning what’s next, how are we going to fix the habitual problems. Fatigue from thinking too much, from the intellectual strength needed to find a way to keep calm in the month of overload. Fatigue from POLITENESS.

Tired

It’s been nice reading all the articles about how this past BHM was one of the best. Because Beyonce dropped Formation on the nation. Kendrick Lamar broke chains at the Grammys. Obama was Blacker than ever. “Hey Giiirl!” I would agree, Black America is not holding back. But as much as these great things brought Pride and Self-esteem, it brought the need for POLITENESS and heavy fatigue from intellectual language to fight back against the hate from our Pro-Black pride. We ain’t tryin to take two steps back. Not this time.

So sometimes when White people are hating on Black History Month or are feeling under attack, or are tired of all the Black stuff during the month, you just internally shake your head, or throw up your hands, roll your eyes—all internally of course. Ya’ll think you got fatigue!? Let me clear my throat… WE GOT FATIGUE. And it ain’t just February Fatigue. Most of it is from tip toeing to ensure we remain polite. Until the last day of the month when someone says that one thing and you just put your face, your intellect, your voice and your Blackness all into FORMATION.

My last Black History Month presentation, with a few other awesome people, to a group of future nurses, my formation came out. My eyes were drooping at 10 am, because my February Fatigue was strong at this point, it is a leap year after all and it’s the last day of the month. I already assessed the group walking in. We sent a seven-page article about end of life care of black and white patients by white doctors and the discrepancies and no one read it, or the abstract. (Basically the title told you everything) Actually, they even tried to say the professor did not send the full article. He did. At the end of our sharing personal stories and information about the Black community’s mistrust of medical professionals and the ways we suggest to break down that barrier one white female asked: “are you going into your community and telling them to trust nurses?” she continued a little more, but my face, intellect, voice and Blackness all became real. Formation.

I truly wanted to respond by saying, “should we trust you, because apparently you did not listen to anything we said today? I wouldn’t trust someone that doesn’t listen. Also, why should I, a non-nurse, go into my community and tell them to blindly trust all nurses to make you not have to be aware of how to do your job with diverse populations? That’s like when colonizers came to Africa; you want me to tell everyone in my village that all white people are to be trusted… let me clear my throat again. I don’t think so. And why aren’t you going into the community showing them that you can be trusted? Once again why is it on us? Where is your role? Because you didn’t even read the seven-page article. And ya’ll tried to blame it on your professor. And this class is the only diversity class in your entire nursing program—afterthought.” I did however remind her of all the ways in which the Black community blindly trusted the medical community and how we spoke of that already in our presentation. I mentioned the story of the hospital that stole Black women’s newborns by telling the women the babies died and then sold them into adoption. Only this past summer did a mother find out she was working with her daughter. What kind of trust is it to not see your dead new born? I assured her that the mistrust is not when people of color get to the doctor so much but the fact that we delay.

"If education continues to treat diverse knowledge as an afterthought, so too will the students."

A colleague of her's spoke up and began by praising me, I was not fooled, I knew there was a ‘but’. And her but was: “you have to understand that we had midterms and we were busy and I only had two hours to watch a TV show.” I wanted to say: “I don’t have to understand. Because you don’t seem to care that I have February Fatigue and you did not care that me and my colleagues took out time from our busy schedules to give you personal insight, personal stories, not from a textbook about our culture (most likely not written by one of us) and how you could be better interacting with our community and most of you only wanted to talk to our white male colleague about his unique time in Ireland that had nothing to do with health let alone people of color. And next time don’t try to butter me up, just say what excuse you have. Because I only hear the excuse.” I’m just saying, that’s what I wanted to say. But I assured her... "I know what that’s like, I went to school too, a couple times. But if she wanted me to come back when they had time to read the article and it was more convenient I would."

No response.

If education continues to treat diverse knowledge as an afterthought, so too will the students.

So I guess as a woman I should say bring on my March Madness...

February 2016 was truly awesome for me. I enjoyed all that I was able to receive from my community and all that I could help add to it. But literally the fatigue is real. I hope this time next week I will be back at full strength. Thank you to all those that work to make Black History relevant year round.

Image: Presentation to Nursing Students February 29th, 2016.

SOURCE: Black History: “Old School” Black Historians and the Hip Hop Generation. Pero Gaglo Dagbovie. Bedford Publishers, Inc. 2006. BH