Why Black History And My Respect For It

Hi
This is my journey into black history. Why I started it, why I feel it is important to keep learning about it, and why I feel it should never be forgotten.
I have been brought up in an area and era where black history should be the furthest thing from my mind. We were taught all about the English kings and queens, wars that Britain fought and the people who we should never forget. I was totally ignorant of my history; all I knew at the time was that I was black with a Jamaican background. I knew my mother and my father, and even my extended family and that was where my black history ended

My first trip into the world of black history began when I was 13 years old. I remember sitting in my geography classroom, at this time I had never heard of lynching, the KKK or anything else. I was flipping through my textbook, as we were being taught about the Nazi’s and World War 2. Our teacher was talking away, when I flipped to a page, with a picture of a strange looking boat, and lots of black mini figures all lined up. I didn't understand the magnitude of what I had stumbled upon, but this would begin my journey to know the truth about my history and my ancestors.
I didn't have a chance to ask many questions, but I did get the chance to briefly skim over the writing in the book. The words slavery, Africa and black, stood out a mile away and I had to know more.
Who was my first port of call?
My mum, but even she could not answer the questions I had posed. What was this boat? What did it mean? And what was slavery. I had the ominous task of finding out myself. Now began a long onslaught on the libraries, the internet and the papers, for any trace of information to which I had long been ignorant.
When I visited my local library, I was disappointed to find out; I couldn't find any books to give me the information on slavery I sought and they had to be ordered in. I went to my school library and even that was impossible as eventhough they had history books they tended to glide over this subject. It was hard to find a firm answer to what this boat was, and why it existed. I finally went back to the same geography class, and read that page again, finally understanding that slavery was a time of desperation, hardship and cruelty for all of the people who were black and deemed barbarians
Once I understood this, I was so upset and low that my thirst for more knowledge came, my upset with not being able to easily access this information, started to make me get angry and frustrated, that I never knew what we had been through and how lucky I was to be born now.
During this blog, I will tell you about the books I used to discover more, how I learned about our 400 years of consistent cruelty, which even exists in some part today. I will tell you about films I have seen, the reaction they have caused me. Why I had to learn to come back to GOD, and forgive those from the past.  I will also tell you about new discoveries I find along my journey.
I will also at some point, explain why it is so important we never forget these tragic events, and honour the memories of those who came before us.

I learnt from this period, that I would never want to be ignorant again, and learn everything I could about those things I didn't know and may wasn't ready to know

Thank you for reading.

My next blog will be about the first books I looked at and what they taught me about black history.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Are we tired yet? nothing is changing... returning to our roots ..if we can find them

Fear for the silent victims in the long standing police brutality tale

Fetishising the black body, BBC, BBB and other roles we play in them - some adult themes