Black History Month Reflections

Aside from sharing with y'all, the best thing about Black History Month was taking hours to search and hours to write about why these particular moments, places, songs, art, and other manifestations of Blackness mean the world to me and why I love my identity so fiercely. The social media posts were the longest sustained act of self care in writing I've had in literal years. I am not playing when I say this: the practice of that level of thinking and reveling in Black culture made me love myself a little more. I didn't expect that to happen and was surprised to feel the difference, which I felt by the middle of the month. All sorts of obligations will tell you that there is no time for research/contemplation/praise and then racism (being the gross, evil, and tricky thing it is) will tell you that it's needless. Not true! Make time for it. It will show on you and make you sharper.

Black History Month is over, but like don't let it be? There's so much to (respectfully and lovingly) excavate in the archive, and so much to explore in the Black present + Black future. So much to celebrate, dignify, and adulate.

Keep it going. I know I will. Thanks for joining me.

Happy Black History Month.

<3,

Yalie (pictured here with the Aunties)