The Ink of a Scholar

The Ink of a Scholar

While on a ritual Netflix binge, I stumble across my favorite documentary, “The Black Power Mixtape,” for what seems like the millionth time. Each time I watch it, I inevitably discover a scene I’d previously overlooked and find new meaning in that moment based on the progression(or lack thereof) my life has taken thus far.

This time, the scene takes place in Harlem circa the late ‘60s inside of a black-owned bookstore filled with towering stacks of what I like to call “vintage” African-American Literature: Paul Laurence Dunbar, Claude McKay, Jean Toomer, and most infamously Langston Hughes. Lewis H. Michaux, a middle-aged black man with a spunky afro, stands in the center of the organized chaos as groups of little black boys and girls scurry in and out the storefront. The shop owner shares with the Swedish filmmakers that when he hears his young patrons shout,”black power,” he promptly corrects them.

“Black is beautiful, but black isn’t power. Knowledge is power,” Michaux clarifies. “For you can be black as a crow, you can be white as snow and if you don’t know and ain’t got no dough, you can’t go and that’s fo’ sho’.”

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Stop talking and start acting against police violence

How many more Black lives can we watch destroyed without justice? How many more guilty cops can we watch run free? In the candid words of Geneva Reed-Veal, mother of Sandra Bland, the 28-year-old black woman who died while in police custody last year:

“It is time to wake up, get up, step up, or shut up.” ‪

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2015: The Year of Black Erasure

2015: The Year of Black Erasure

From Maryland to Missouri, Black rage came to a boil in 2015. Reported riots in Baltimore and Ferguson summed up the country’s frustration with the government-sanctioned violence against Black Americans over the course of the year. The cry for justice was loud and boisterous, yet it would do little to stop the assault on Black bodies, Black history, and Black pride.

As if they’d been written in pencil, African Americans watched their lives and legacies scraped at and scratched out this year – our ability to live, to learn, and to love ourselves constantly under siege. 

There’s no doubt about it: Black erasure was REAL in 2015.

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