I hate black history month.

I hate that the civil rights movement is black history.

I hate that Patricia Stephens Due, mother of a friend of mine, died this February.

I hate that she’s black history.

I hate that she’s my history, once removed.

I hate that my children will learn about a woman who wore sunglasses all the time,

even while inside,

not because it was cool or because she thought she was gangsta

but because her eyes hurt.

Her eyes hurt because…

because she wanted this country to live up to the promises it made.

I hate that she was a peaceful protester

I hate tear gas.

I hate that tear gas is considered a peaceful alternative.

I hate that it’s violent.

I hate that she was arrested on February 20th, in 1960.

I hate that She spent 49 days in jail with burning eyes and

I hate that from 1960 until the day she died,

She wore sunglasses

all the time.

Even while inside.

I hate that she died on February 7th, 2012.

I hate how we define Black history.

I hate that Abraham Lincoln was an important part of Black history.

I hate that he wasn’t Black.

I hate that Frederick Douglas was Black.

I hate that he isn’t part of our history unless it happens to be February

And even then, well, only if we’ve already covered

Martin Luther King Jr,

Rosa Parks and

Malcolm X,

I hate that maybe we’ll talk about the slaves.

I hate maybe.

I hate that maybe we’ll talk about Thomas Jefferson having black children born into slavery

and I hate that that’s not your history,

their history or

my history.

I hate that that’s ugly history and

I hate that we don’t talk about ugly history.

I hate that I’ve only seen Octavia E. Butler promoted in bookstores in February.

I hate that I only see Do the Right Thing on TV in February.

I hate that even in February we don’t remember that black people created Rock and Roll.

I hate that rap music is supposed to sum up the black experience.

I hate that my black ex girlfriend got into fist fights

because someone decided she wasn’t

black enough

to wear patches and pins

with Bob Marley quotes

that called for an end to racism.

I hate all this segregation.

I hate that your history is your history.

I hate that their history is their history.

I hate that my history is our history.

I hate that our histories are separate

and I hate that it’s not quite equal.

I hate that there is so much I missed during Black History Month.

I hate that I learned less, the other eleven months.

And even though I hate Black History Month.

I hate that people try to take away our Black History month.

I hate that we need Black History Month.

I hate that it’s narrow and redundant and

I hate that it’s all we have.

And even though we never scratch the surface

I hate that when it comes to remembering,

Black History Month is the closest we have gotten.

More than anything else,

I hate that so much has already been forgotten.