I have always loved black history, especially in the American context. Perhaps because I am a historian, or more, a narrative writer, I appreciate the arc of the story.
Think of it: A people betrayed by their fellow Africans, who sold them into slavery; abused by the capitalists who subjected them to inhumane conditions as they crossed the ocean; degraded and dehumanized by brutal slave-owners who treated them, in law and practice, like property; liberated by a Civil War that remains the bloodiest in our history, brother fighting brother, to right the wrongs of the Founding Fathers in writing slavery into a constitution otherwise themed around the rights of the individual, around freedom; forced to fight again, in the face of Jim Crow lynchings, segregation and abject racism, leading to a Civil Rights Movement that cost many, including Martin Luther King Jr., their lives. It is a breathtaking story of the rise of a people liberated from the whip, free to pursue happiness, realize big dreams and generational wealth. Like Jordan Peterson’s epic series — a group of brilliant minds sitting around a table deconstructing The Book of Exodus — it is a saga that lifts the spirits, reminding us of the human call of freedom, and the bravery to grab it.
Jackie Robinson was the most exemplary person of his era. He single-handedly integrated Major League Baseball, joining the (then Brooklyn) Dodgers as first baseman for the 1947 season. He was big and strong, black and proud. He endured unbelievable racial slurs and taunts by other players, once sustaining a seven-inch gash in his leg as an opposing playing deliberately plowed in, spikes first. Branch Rickey, the Dodgers’ owner, insisted Robinson turn the other cheek. And so he did.
Last month, vandals cut down a statue of Jackie Robinson that was mounted outside a League 42 (his number) baseball diamond at McAdams Park in Wichita, Kansas. The statue was only three years old. A few days later it was found smashed to pieces, and burned. Police are still looking for the culprit. Perhaps the vandalism was done by a white racist, though I doubt it. Jackie Robinson is revered in baseball, where every season in April, all players, of all colors, wear his number to honor this legacy.
Given the culture’s twist into racial balkanization, I suspect the culprit — if the police even pursue him — will turn out to be a left-wing radical who views Robinson as an example of black privilege. In an era where victimhood takes precedence over individual achievement, where calls for equity and reparations have replaced standards of equality and meritocracy, it stands to reason that even #42 would fall.
Even more astonishing is what is being done — in the name of political correctness — to erase Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas from history books. The story of Thomas’ life, like the history of his race, is a phenomenal tale of a man who overcame unbelievable poverty and lack of opportunity to become a singular voice for conservative principles on the court. He called it a “high tech lynching” when then-Sen. and Judiciary Committee Chair Joe Biden led an inquisition into never-proven claims by Anita Hill that Thomas had sexually harassed her. But what about the same crowd’s canceling of the first black Republican Supreme Court justice in our history?
Three years ago, just in time for Black History Month, Amazon Prime deleted a PBS documentary on Clarence Thomas’s life, Created Equal, in his own words. It told the remarkable story of how he was raised by his grandparents (he titled his biography My Grandfather’s Son), and redeemed by Christianity. Here’s the trailer. If anyone can find a copy of the documentary, let us all know. I’d love to watch it again.
I was so outraged by their censorship that I wrote to Clarence Thomas personally, letting him know he had the support of many of us for what he endured on our behalf.
In April he wrote me a hand-written note in return. I hope he won’t mind that I make his sentiments public here.
“As to the treatment that I receive from certain quarters, this has been the case for four decades. But that is a small price to pay to do what is right.”
Like Thomas, many of those who broke racial barriers have been reduced to cliches, toppled from their pedestals — or even erased. It’s as if the first generation of pioneers who destroyed racial stereotypes and busted through ceilings are too tame for today’s guardians of culture, including their media gatekeepers. The current version of Black History Month celebrates those who are angry, and coarse. Yesterday’s heroes — elegant, poised, steadfast — have fallen from fashion.
Jackie Robinson’s grace on the field and off, his remarkable career numbers — he retired with a .313 batting average, 972 runs scored, 1,563 hits and 200 stolen bases — his entry into the Hall of Fame and his courage in racism’s face — deserve lasting tribute. Those who love baseball, but more importantly those who love America, a country that could overcome racial injustices to welcome change, owe him much.
One of those was Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. “Jackie Robinson made my success possible,” he once said. “Without him, I would never have been able to do what I did.”
King might be one of the few has escaped the censor’s pen, though it is worth noting that red and blue America celebrate him for different things. To the right, he is remembered most fervently for his “I Have a Dream” speech on the Mall in Washington DC in 1963, that envisioned true equality as colorblind.
“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”
But to many on the Left, a colorblind society is an antithesis of what they celebrate — Diversity, Equity and Inclusion, as well as Critical Race Theory and special privileges for people of color. They cannot jettison MLK Jr entirely — he is our Gandhi, a singular figure in world history, a preacher who was jailed, hounded, assassinated, and punished for his people’s liberation — so they insist that being colorblind is somewhat naive. Or, as the ever-woke Atlantic Magazine put it, “Color Blindness Is Counterproductive,” because if you don’t see color, you don’t see racial victims.
I would argue that if you only see color, you miss seeing the person.
The first national celebration of black history came in 1926, when Harvard-trained historian Carter G. Woodson and fellow intellectuals campaigned to initiative a Negro History and Literature Week, set in February because prominent figures of note — Abraham Lincoln and Frederick Douglass, a former slave who became a brilliant orator against slavery — had birthdays then. In 1976, President Gerald R. Ford extended the occasion to a month-long celebration. Ever since, Republicans and Democrats have honored the holiday. Towns have held parades. Companies have sold and donated remembrances of this precious history.
But apparently, we have learned nothing.
This year, Target, ever eager to feed its Woke customer base, appropriated images of Woodson and two other early black intellectuals — W.E.B. Du Bois and Booker T. Washington — for its “Civil Rights Magnetic Learning Activity” kit. The problem? The three were misidentified. Woodson’s magnet showed an image of Du Bois. Du Bois was misnamed Washington. Washington was mislabeled Woodson. A Nevada schoolteacher noticed, and posted on TikTok. Target pulled the kit from the shelves.
How embarrassing, the very essence of racism — not to be able to differentiate between men of much different looks and skin tones who happen to be black. Actor Morgan Freeman recently objected to Black History Month. “You’re going to relegate my history to a month?” he asked, adding: “Black history is American history.”
My point exactly. Our history is not exclusively black, despite what Nikole Hannah-Jones and her 1619 Project might argue, anymore than it is exclusively Hispanic or Japanese or Jewish or Christian. But black history is part of our origins story, one of the proudest parables in our national fabric. Let’s not forget its heroes.
Wonderful idea for a Substack. Just signed up. A friendly Q: if Constitution not pro-slavery, how explain the 3/5 rule? I look forward to your next column. I believe you are spot-on that the Constitution can save us. Maybe the only thing.
Thanks!! I do work full time, so I might not post as often as I should, but it's free - you get what you pay for!!