Black History Month: Kassie's Column - To them, we owe
During February, it’s hard not to get caught up in the spotlight that rightfully shines on Black women and men across the country who have broken barriers, shattered glass ceilings and raised the bar. The firsts in their field and communities, the ones who persevered to arrive at destinations which had once been a dream, the trailblazers who joined together to affect lasting change.
While these icons and legends will be discussed throughout the month, I want to shine that same spotlight on those who are often just as important but don’t receive the same recognition – the women and men within every Black community who live out their purpose within a tight knit space. Many of you know them because you had experiences with them. Some of you are still experiencing their grandeur. They’ve influenced and impacted your life in a way that you’ll never forget. And your memories of time spent with them conjures up a smile and that nonmythical warm, fuzzy feeling.
So, who are these people? Well, they’re the grandmas and grandaddies. The great-grandmas and great-granddaddies. The friends of your grandmas, granddaddies, great-grandmas and great-grandaddies. The mothers of the church. The neighborhood candy lady. The neighborhood candy man. The head deacon at the church. The “aunties” who aren’t technically your aunties but they’ve taken on that role. The second mamas and other mamas you gain when you become really close with a friend. They’re the neighbor who looks out for the other neighbors and typically has keys to other neighbors’ houses. The teacher, who looked like us, who spoke to us with positive affirmations and confirmed our greatness.
Yeah, you know who they are.
Often, they won’t end up in the history books. Most people, outside of those they encounter directly, won’t even know their name. But within our communities, they’re revered, respected, honored and cherished.
Within Davidson County, there are countless women and men who have taken on these roles. As I alluded earlier, some have since passed away while some are still walking this beautiful Earth sowing seeds, daily. They’re the ones who have loved on us, cared for us, cheered for us, fed us, clothed us, housed us, championed us, advocated for us, defended us, corrected us, reality checked us, hugged us, prayed for us and uplifted us. Without them, some of us wouldn’t be who we are or where we are today.
For them, they did what was within their hearts to execute. It wasn’t forced. We knew it because their energy told us it came from a place of love even if it was accompanied by a switch. It was part of their village mentally to be responsible for the well being of a child even if they weren’t related by blood.
As I write this column, I’m reminded of those who’ve held these titles in my life. Many have transitioned. A few are still present in my life. While their names may never trend on Twitter, the imprint on my heart and along the path I walk is undeniable.
Their wisdom has guided me. Their words have comforted me. Their presence has changed me. And I know there are others who can say the same about them and those in their lives who encompassed these roles.
Black History Month isn’t just for this history makers. It’s a time to celebrate all Black Excellence in its many forms.
On this day, I give thanks for those who fulfilled and are fulfilling their purpose quietly.
You are appreciated.
