Why “White History Month” won’t work

Shane Wade
Opinion Editor

For some, February is a month to celebrate, whether it be the arrival of Girl Scout cookies, cardiovascular awareness or celebrating African-American history.

For others, February is “Why isn’t there a White History Month?” month.

Whatever disagreements I may have against those who choose to highlight the long, often tragic history of black people in America for just a single month are shelved whenever I see or hear the question, “I’m not a racist, but why isn’t there a ‘White History Month’?”

Illustration by Sagal HassanFor one, white people do have their own history months, including March (Irish and Greek-American Heritage Month), May (Jewish-American Heritage Month) and October, (Italian, Polish and German-American Heritage Month).

While it’s understandable that some may take offense to the deconstruction of white people by heritage, it’s important to recognize how luxurious it can be to be able to trace one’s own heritage.

Black people do not have that privilege. Even today, we still struggle, both consciously and unconsciously, to find our identity as a people.

It’s all too easy to forget that just about 200 years ago, black people were considered three-fifths of a person and were valued the same as cattle. Less than 60 years ago, black people were barely second-class citizens — freely beaten, abused, lynched, robbed and murdered for the crime of existing and wanting equal rights.

Black History Month isn’t about getting even with white people. It’s about righting the wrongs in the American public school system, a system so intellectually corrupt, rotten and stale that every history class taught, in both primary and higher education, is essentially “white” history, unless explicitly framed to discuss persons of color, a framing that happens once a year in February.

History is taught through a white perspective. Persons of color are treated as side stories or special clips to supplement the core of American history. In reality, their stories and plights make up the core of the American experience. But that reality is understated and consequently reinforces an understanding that managing this country is a white man’s game.

To go beyond the standard response of “We don’t have a ‘White History Month’ because every other month we learn about white history,” think about what “White History Month” would consist of: The importance of knowing who Millard Fillmore is? Klu Klux Klan rallies? Extensive discussion on the difference between Protestants and Catholics? Would it be White-European history or White-American history? Would we learn about the struggles that Scandinavians went through or the plight of the modern-day Canadian?

The want, whether genuine or artificial, for a “White History Month,” comes from an egocentric desire to boast privilege, imply racial superiority and lobby for a false equality.

Want to get rid of Black History Month? Then fix the inequalities in the American public school system and teach about what American history really is: a story of principles, liberty, freedom, hypocrisy, genocide, slavery, human rights abuses, liberation, civil rights abuses, illegitimacy, greed, litigation and a very slow climb to a moral highground. Fix the gaping hole that portends Abraham Lincoln as an emancipator of slaves instead of a politician with a vested interest to maintain slavery. Fix the incongruity that plays up relatively minor inventions, like the light bulb, while downplaying the successes of people of color, like writing, metallurgy, mathematics and the basics of civilization.

Understand that Black History Month is not a solution to the plight of ignorance concerning black people in America. It’s part of the problem because it contributes to the idea that we are “needy” people, reliant on government aid, donations, affirmative action and wealthy philanthropists hoping to make a difference in the world by adopting a baby that doesn’t have the same skin color as them.

Carter Woodson never intended for his week-long creation to evolve into a month-long parade of black individuals; the observance was, and should be, a means of circumventing institutions that reinforced cultural ignorance. He sought to use it to overcome negative stereotyping, cultivate awareness and promote a lost unity. When that goal was accomplished, the observance would forever end.

Unfortunately, the consistent dereliction of duty by the U.S. Department of Education has chosen another path.

The failure of U.S. History in K-12 is that it does not breed a discussion on causes; it doesn’t make students think about the “how” or “why” behind events, particularly events involving people of color. There’s no focus on social, cultural or religious tones; everything is instead condensed into bookmarkable, timeline events. Feminism boils down to the 19th Amendment and the suffrage for women. The Civil Rights Movement is much the same, except with grotesque violence and awkward pauses in the discussion of segregation.

So long as the question, “Why is there a Black History Month, but not a ‘White History Month’?” persists, the advancements Americans have made racially, socially and culturally will be undermined. So long as those who beg the question remain blind to white privilege, our successes will amount to little.
The history of white people, particularly white Americans, is one of privilege, hatred and narcissism. It is a history to be pitied, not praised. It’s a warning, not a celebration.

There is no “White History Month” because the core of white history, at least the white history that doesn’t already have a month dedicated to its celebration, is full of uncelebratable events.

Racism in America is pervasive and prevalent. The solution isn’t to “not see race or color,” because that reinforces the status quo and doesn’t encourage people to seek diversity or recognize the achievements people made despite mountains of oppression.

If you want to have white pride, then recognize that there’s a plethora of ill and offense that goes along with that; not because of the color of your skin, but because of the history represented by it.