Black history is not a footnote in America’s story. It is the backbone, the foundation, and the living pulse of this nation. For centuries, Black people have built, resisted, and persevered, yet too often our contributions, our struggles, and our triumphs have been erased from the national narrative. Black history is America’s history, and acknowledging it fully is not optional. It is essential to understand who we are as a nation and who we must become.
During this centennial year of Black History Month, I am in a place of unrest. It is unrest because of the continued deliberate erasure that fuels harm and trauma we have overcome through resistance, through an unwavering commitment to justice, and through promoting our joy. The very fact that our existence at its core is the premise for the current state of the nation does not simply speak volumes. It screams.
Despite centuries of endurance, radical resistance, and a continual pursuit of freedom, we, Black people, continue to face repeated chapters of a history we did not write. Our struggle encompasses the ongoing quest for human rights, equal rights, racial justice, and the promises made by the nation’s forefathers that remain unfulfilled. We find ourselves questioning news stories, headlines, social media feeds, and podcasts that continue to place us as a people who are less than others. The reality is that we have lived through these challenges before, yet the weight of having to persist is exhausting. At the same time, we are called to recognize and cultivate the leaders who carry forward the mantle of change. That mantle has carried through generations, from Huey P. Newton, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, and Medgar Evers to Congressman John Lewis, President Barack Obama, First Lady Michelle Obama, and Vice President Kamala Harris. Today, it is rekindled by modern voices like Nikole Hannah-Jones, Dr. Jamal Bryant, Donna Brazile, Congresswoman Jasmine Crockett, and Congresswoman Ayanna Pressley, who continue to ignite the flames we have carried since we were kidnapped, sacrificed, and brought to this land. Our struggle is not only political; it is psychological, emotional, spiritual, and physical. What remains troubling, and a constant reminder, is that we are still in this struggle.
I have had the blessed journey of being raised in a civil rights family, a social justice and racial justice family committed to the Black agenda and the notion that everybody deserves to eat at the table. Whether we build the table and the meal or demand space to eat at the finest and best tables already established, the motto has always been to ensure access and opportunity are available for us, by us. What I am hearing now is a groundswell, a fierce urgency of now, a call for an agenda that speaks to our rights, our current realities, and a blueprint for future generations. This is the flame we need. This is the necessary pruning and refining fire that propels us into our deeper mission and positions us for such a time as this.
During this centennial year, we revisit the narratives that penned progress, built political muscle, signed development deals, established Black financial institutions, and birthed community advancement and self-sustaining ecosystems for us, by us. We continue to push policy, advocate for democracy, and exercise our civic responsibilities in ways that mirror the courage of our forefathers. The Racial Justice team of the City of Boston kicked off the centennial celebration with a symbolic flag raising and a timely message from Rev. Willie Bodrick II last week. He reminded us of our why, our deep purpose, and our charge to keep. A reminder of Black Boston and the unique space we hold in America’s history. A reminder that Black Boston is called to lead even in uncertain times. He closed with a familiar clarion cry that has carried us and continues to bind us together.
“God of our weary years, God of our silent tears ... . Shadowed beneath Thy hand, may we forever stand, true to our God, true to our native land.”
A city that sits on a hill must stand. It must fight. It must unapologetically demand the freedom, justice, and rights our ancestors bled and died for. Black Boston is a city of firsts, a city of groundbreaking legislation, coalitions, and movement-makers.
Black Boston has always met the moment with action, with mission, and with strategy. The fierce urgency of now calls for this and more. As a mother raising a third-generation justice leader, I ask myself every day, how will I show up for this moment? How will I build and create solutions to ensure that his generation reaps the rewards of true freedom, true democracy, and dreams lived out loud, instead of deferred?
In my home, alongside our faith affirmations, we have determined that we shall not be moved.
And in this centennial moment, neither shall our resolve to demand justice, advance freedom, and protect the dignity of Black life in America be moved.
Lori Nelson is the Senior Advisor for Racial Justice in the City of Boston’s Equity & Inclusion Cabinet. Views expressed are those of the author.
