As a child, the great theologian Howard Thurman treasured spending time alone under a beloved oak tree in his yard: “I could sit my back against its trunk and feel the same peace that would come to me in my bed at night.”
Dr. Thurman came to understand that the business of the oak tree during the long winter was to hold on to the dead leaves before turning them loose in spring so that new buds — the growing edge — could begin to unfold. At winter’s end, what wind, storm, sleet, or snow could not force off passed quietly away to become the tree’s nourishment.
My parents were like that oak tree. Throughout most of our history, many Black families have been like that oak tree. Despite enormous assaults and pressures, Black parents and elders were sturdy, constant presences determined to hold on and persevere long enough to prepare the next generation and give them a better life.
During Black History Month, many Americans take time to honor and celebrate the extraordinary achievements of individual African Americans. This remains true even in the face of the newest sanctions on observances recognizing American history made by Americans who were not heterosexual, white, or male.
But for many African Americans, honoring Black history includes honoring the elders and ancestors in our own families whose perseverance, strength and joy in the face of every assault we’ve already faced got us to this moment.
Black elders saw children and young people through the unspeakable trauma of enslavement. The late beloved historian John Hope Franklin and others reminded us that traditional myths about slavery destroying Black families are a lie: the slavery system and individual enslavers may have done their very best to try to destroy the families in their control, but it did not work.
Parents and elders saw Black children and young people through Reconstruction and did their best to shield and protect them during the dark days of Jim Crow, mob rule and lynchings. Throughout segregation they constantly reminded us we had dignity and worth. Long before the phrase became popular, we were reminded that Black was beautiful.
Andrew Young, a former member of Congress, former mayor of Atlanta and former United States ambassador to the United Nations, was asked in an interview to describe what the current moment in our nation feels like to him.
‘Lord, I don’t feel no ways tired,” he said.
“We have come too far from where we started from. And nobody ever told us that the way would be easy, but I don’t believe He brought us this far to leave us. And I’m not worried. I’m not anxious. It’s just another struggle. My parents taught me to deal with the slights and oppression. My father’s mantra was, don’t get mad, get smart. He said if you lose your temper in a fight, you lose the fight, and that your mind is the most powerful thing you have.”