Celebrating Cultural Identity

In the month of February we celebrate the history of the Black community. We sit down to reminisce on stories we were told and loved ones we wish we could have known. We reiterate the legends of people who have paved the way and in some fashion we decide what makes the cut of cultural importance. This year I took the opportunity to focus on all the things we are as a Black community. I entitled it: Black Is! Black is diverse. We diverse in the way we speak, dress and accomplish change. We do not find this opportunity often because in the same breath we can say we are diverse in our tolerance for the variations of people we are. We find humor in claiming someone is white washed because they enjoy relaxer over curls. We ridicule our kind for being born with lighter skin because we believe light brights get all the praise. We taunt one another in the walls of grand mama’s house because the uppity cousin went to school to get an education and now all she does is talk white.

Black is Love! For me I had to learn this very fast. I had to learn that black is love does not stop at black love but all the variations. I have question for you: when a black woman or man choose a spouse outside of the culture are they no longer love expressing a version of black love?? And at what point do we say what black love is? Do we deem it a union as long as a black person is blessed enough to find quality partnership with another? Probably not. If we search it now “black love” it will come up with a slew of black partners. However I found that my black love story began when I stopped looking to fulfill expectations. It came when I created a beautiful child that looks like me and his father. When I learned what I needed to learn at my HBCU but became articulate of my views with Filipino and white husband. I found peace and solitude in a man that didn’t look like me but understood me. He was a mirror image of everything I kept inside because when you surround yourself with people who limit you to standards that weren’t designed for you, you tend to run and hide.

Black is beauty! There is no mistake there. We are beautiful people. However our growing entitlement has made us age. Now this is a safe space. I only speak what I see. We hold some much light in us but after awhile of sitting in the shade and no longer allowing others around us to experience the light of our beauty, we become pale and withered. We set some many rules for other but you know they say imitation is the best form of flattery. We are no longer slaves being studied against our will. We are in a league of trend setters that lead humanity in a cultural progression. We are in a space where we all as human beings contribute to the way express ourselves. Have you seen the beauty of combined colors? Red and yellow, green and blue. The beauty in combinations. The beauty in merged ideas. The beauty in understanding. We hold power in our beauty because there is no cap.

So. I leave you with this, if we are meant to be diverse, beautiful, and loving beings why do we find so much solace in the same behaviors our ancestors belived would be over by now? It seems we picked up the wrong lessons on our journey.