Black History Month: In Common with a Grammy Winner
Out the gate, this Black History Month came in with a bang.
I beamed with pride earlier this month as I witnessed a fellow Virgin Islander and outspoken ambassador of our home, Theron Thomas, become the first Black person to win a Grammy for Songwriter of the Year (Non-Classical). Standing on the televised, Grammy stage speaking in his full, Virgin Islands accent, he reminded me and really all those who listened of the struggle-ridden path to success so many Black people endure.
In his acceptance speech, Theron shared how he left St. Thomas armed with only $35 and the fuel of his late father believing in him. Most people idealize island life as if everyone can walk to the beach and wake up with a sea view, but Theron gave us the reality of his island upbringing. He grew up in what St. Thomians call “Housing” — a low-income housing community with minimal resources but lots of love sourced by his working parents.
Theron spoke of the fight, struggle, and perseverance to get to the Grammy stage and was elated that his goals were realized.
As I cheered Theron on, it brought up many emotions, thoughts, and questions on the struggles he shared.
We now live in a time where Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI) programs are being called into question with increased furor. I won’t take this time to refute arguments against DEI, but I will use my experience to ask us to consider how we can lessen the excess load on Black people seeking to achieve the same successes as their counterparts.
Like Theron, I have fought tooth and nail to overcome the external limitations of a humble upbringing. Hailing from Savan, one of the oldest and most historic communities in St. Thomas, but what some would consider a “hood”, I have put in double overtime to outwork negative perceptions and stereotypes. Every work assignment, role, and promotion are accepted with an internal knowing of how much proving and shape shifting I will have to do to simply be seen as equal.
It’s grueling. It’s tiring. It’s all too common.
As Theron’s speech reminded me, it’s the underbelly of success for most Black folks. What many see is our sauce, the seeming ease of our success. How we make it look easy. We make it look fun and even magical, but beneath that shine is often pain.
When we achieve, the desire to simply celebrate and bask in the joy of the accomplishment is slightly shrouded in knowing that the struggle continues. Struggles yet to be seen and recognized. Struggles to validate my presence in rooms where I may be the only person who looks like me. Struggles to simply be.
As you hear the congratulations and well wishes, there is the coinciding call to do more — — work harder and push even further. It’s the private, and sometimes public messaging, many Black people face at the height of their achievements. Lift as you climb. Pave the way as you walk. It’s a mandate I accept and welcome.
But it is also what makes celebrating Black History Month bittersweet. We celebrate the progress, but we ready ourselves for the work left to do. And that work includes us making sure that the path to success is not more difficult, longer, or more arduous simply because of the color of one’s skin.
To be clear, my ask is this, in celebrating Black History Month, consider what it took for Black people to be successful, and pursue specific actions to lessen the unnecessary load on their path to success.
Happy Black History Month in the fullness and awareness of all that means.
In love and power,
Rashida
