First and foremost, happy Black History Month to everyone impacted by the African Diaspora, near and far. Oh, wait, that would be everyone. Please excuse my manners; let me start over :).
Happy Black History Month to everyone reading this! Because, yes, indeed, Black history is, in fact, American history, and the countless contributions of blood, intellectual, and sweat equity sacrificed by Blacks are certainly something to be recognized, celebrated, and appreciated.
In an effort to avoid this post from slipping into a tirade, I want to ensure that it concludes with a few substantial ideas for contemplation and, prayerfully, some added value to your life after reading. Thank you for your time in advance.
Hello, my name is Rahkal Shelton Roberson. I added Christian to the title as I wanted you to know I am an emulator of Christ’s character. This is important so you’ll better understand what keeps me grounded, hopeful, and focused while charting the muddy and challenging waters of subjects like history and race.
Furthermore, I am completely cognizant of the potential negative attention that may ensue from disclosing my religious affiliation, particularly concerning Christianity and African American history. But, hey, let’s stay focused on the intent here.
Professionally, I am a certified coach, author, educator, college and career readiness enthusiast, and workplace peace and equity advocate. I am also the founder of Black Girl College Prep, a service created to enhance the academic prowess, leadership development, and overall life and career preparedness of Black learners and students from underserved communities in middle school and up.
My overarching passions include serving and inspiring others, personal and professional development, and everything that leads to nobility, good, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy things—think utopian society.
Speaking of a utopian society, can you imagine that? A society in which we all celebrate and benefit from our diversity, coexist, have our needs met, and are safe and secure (physically, emotionally, financially, and intellectually).
If I had the power to modify this society in any way, it would be by creating more spaces where we could speak the truth in love, be open and sincere with one another, respect one another's experiences while holding each other accountable, and actually act as a group when we recognize the problems and shortcomings in our society. Wishful dreaming, you say?
Well, these desired ideals are treasured in my heart and being, while my hope is in someone greater than our differences and the horrific reality of our dystopian society.
Enough about me; let’s chat a bit about Black History Month and what it’s meant to me throughout the years.
As an 80s baby who spent my childhood in parts of the Deep South and the Midwest, I can’t remember Black History Month in grade school being nothing more than a glazed-over surface study learning about some of the All-Stars of Black History, including Rosa Parks, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, Harriet Tubman, and perhaps Dr. Carter G. Woodson???
It wasn’t until my senior year of high school that I was assigned to a Black history elective class. I was fortunate to have a Black teacher who was passionate about both teaching and Black history, and I started learning more about my culture. I was exposed to the biographies of remarkable women such as Ida B. Wells, Maya Angelou, Mary Church Terrell, and Fannie Lou Hamer.
But what really took the cake was my enrollment in an HBCU in Houston, Texas, in the fall of 2002. Which HBCU did you attend, Rahkal? I’m so delighted you asked. I attended and graduated with honors from Texas Southern University. Go Tigers!
It was then that my historical knowledge, need for understanding, and profound love and support for Black people fully blossomed.
At the age of 18, I learned about the Transatlantic slave trade, which blew my mind. I was upset and couldn’t understand why I hadn’t heard about it sooner. Was I asleep in class? How did I miss such crucial knowledge about how Blacks came to America? Ah, I remembered. It wasn’t taught in Mr. Stoner’s 8th-grade class in Nashville, Tennessee, and it is possible that we did not cover it in the elective class I took senior year.
Nonetheless, thank heavens, I was taking foundational history in college at my HBCU. I was also exposed to the lives of other influential women, such as Shirley Chisholm, Angela Davis, Barbara Jordan (a fellow Texas Southern graduate), and Sojourner Truth (I kept Sojourner’s poster up in my dorm and throughout college).
The more I studied about all the outstanding Black women and men who came before me, the more inspired I felt. However, these revelations of information also generated enormous anguish, frustration, and emotions of defeat, all combined with hope and activism.
In college, I learned about white supremacy and systemic racism, which result in economic and educational inequalities. Ah, it started to make sense to me why my previous schools, my university, and the communities that I visited looked so different from the more wealthy ones.
As a young college student and media major, I constantly questioned what I could do to promote equality and educate Black people.
It was the exposure for me—learning about Black history and gaining knowledge—that was not only empowering but also my call to action.
By my sophomore year, I had begun tutoring children and pledged to include more positive images of Black people in every short film or project I did. I want to educate and challenge harmful stereotypes and narratives about Black people in the media.
As fate would have it, I took this purpose and passion with me throughout my undergraduate and graduate studies.
Not long after I graduated, my fire began to dim. I was thrust into the real world with no instruction, guidance, or warning about the severity of racism, suppression of Black history, inequalities, or the notion that white people are superior, more significant, and should govern society. I was a little naive; before I graduated college, much of what I had learned was theoretical. I assumed that things had surely progressed.
Facebook support groups, safe places for Black people, open dialogue, and fast access to knowledge about issues I encountered did not exist fifteen years ago. There was no #woosahthebook or mentor, just perplexity and emotional labor while navigating things I couldn't fight, change, or truly explain.
As a young professional, I experienced the effects of racial trauma in addition to working in broken systems that perpetuated pay inequity, educational disparities, and racism. This realization led me to believe that my calling on earth must include serving and advocating for the underserved, especially Black women. So, I continued doing the work with and in love.
My faith and desire for equality and that utopian society have taught me that this mission can be accomplished in a non-divisive and discriminating way and that I can offer value, be light, convey truth and justice, and write new stories for girls and women studying and honoring Black History Month in the future. Inspired by the amazing titans of Black history, I've come to realize my responsibility.
What does Black History Month provide, and what does it mean to me personally?
BHM dedicates time to teaching and learning about the incredible contribution that Black people have made to American society.
BHM provides space to hear the hearts, stories, and aspirations of Black Americans.
BHM (and beyond) offers an amazing opportunity for education, training, and allyship in the fight against racism and white supremacist ideologies.
I hope this has inspired someone.
Happy Black History Month!
Xo, Coach Rahk
Comments