Skip to main content

American History is Not Black History

Colors of Influence presents the following opinion piece from Leonce Gaiter, who suggests that the statement, “Black history is American history” paints an inaccurate picture of the largely painful history of blacks in America.  As an African American author, Leonce’s perspective is unique and he ultimately seeks to spark a conversation about how black history should be approached—whether you agree with him or not—without reducing the pain, triumphs and defeats that African Americans experienced in America.

Leonce Gaiter is a prolific African American writer and proud Harvard Alum. His writing has appeared in the NYTimes, NYT Magazine, LA Times, Washington Times, and Washington Post, and he has written two novels.  His newly released novel, In the Company of Educated Men, (http://bit.ly/ZyqSuN) is a literary thriller with socio-economic, class, and racial themes.


Leonce Gaiter
As taught in mainstream culture, American history propagates this nation as the womb of freedom, justice, and liberty.  There are American creation myths as exemplified by the “Founding Fathers.”  There are founding documents as revered as biblical texts for their promise of “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”

That is why the argument that ‘black history is American history’ is naïve to the point of insipidity.  For most of this nation’s history, blacks were not ‘Americans.’  First, we were owned, and then we were barred from exercising the rights of citizenship.  That’s why our history puts the lie to American history’s mainstream myths.  Almost half of the delegates to the Constitutional Convention, some of whom wrote so eloquently of freedom, owned other men as slaves.  For most of its history, this country profited immensely from forcibly denying us freedom and liberty, by keeping us in chains, and from our labor as sub-citizens.  Our history puts the lie to America’s history as popularly told.

Do we want to continue to teach our children black history through a white racial frame?  That is the practical effect of stating, “black history is American history.”  It states that the majority veil should be placed on the history that we teach our children.  It states that we should forego the right that every other culture assumes—the right to teach our history from our own point-of-view, and to be the heroes of our own stories—and instead, subsume our history within the majority’s. It states that we do not have the right to express our rage at the barbarities we endured, for those are histories that the majority has little willingness to accept and examine, and for good reason: they put the lie to treasured American myths.

To pronounce that “black history is American history” says that every black child should learn that after Vernon Dahmer’s home was firebombed in Mississippi and Dahmer died from his wounds, the outraged white community worked to rebuild the Dahmer home.  It says that black children needn’t learn that in Brookhaven, Mississippi in 1955, Lamar Smith was shot dead on the courthouse lawn in broad daylight by a white man for the crime of organizing blacks to vote, and that the known killer was never indicted because, per the Southern Poverty Law Center, “no one would admit they saw a white man shoot a black man.”

To say “black history is American history” approves the endless repetition of a Martin Luther King quote like:

“I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality... I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.”

It says black children needn’t bother with another strand of King’s thinking:

“It is an unhappy truth that racism is a way of life for the vast majority of white Americans, spoken and unspoken, acknowledged and denied, subtle and sometimes not so subtle—the disease of racism permeates and poisons a whole body politic”.

To insist that black history is American history says that the majority should be allowed to use our history to paint themselves in the warmest light, but that we should not be allowed to do the same.  The two are often mutually exclusive.  To understand the challenges and triumphs of the American descendants of African slaves, it is imperative to understand that almost every aspect of the might of this nation was used to cripple us.  To understand how far we’ve come, the battles we fought, the blood we shed and the triumphs and defeats we suffered, you must understand the weight of the spiked boot that was placed on our necks.  To do that, you must indict America for crimes she would rather forget.

American history is not black history, and our history is not America’s to dictate.  Until we understand that, and begin teaching our history to ourselves in ways that serve our own cultural needs instead of the majority’s, we will continue to internalize this nation’s prejudices against us, instead of arming ourselves to appropriately demonize and deflect them.


The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of, and should not be attributed to, Colors of Influence, its operators or its staff members.

Have an article you'd like to see on the Colors of Influence blog? Email us your pitch.

Popular posts from this blog

Minding the Wealth Gap

As a Black investor and startup founder, Cliff Goins IV brings firsthand experience and sharp insight to one of America’s most urgent issues: the racial wealth gap. Having navigated the worlds of finance and entrepreneurship, Goins has seen up close the systemic disparities in wealth creation, access to capital, and asset management. From unequal opportunities in homeownership and education to persistent challenges in business funding and employment, the historical gaps are perpetuated in present-day practices. In "Minding the Wealth Gap," Goins skillfully blends data, lived experience, and the insights of experts to illuminate the deep-rooted economic disparities facing Black Americans. More importantly, he highlights the power of collective uplift. Through the voices of nine dynamic “gap closers,” Goins shows how real change happens when Black investors and leaders open doors for others. Each success “play” or strategy underscores the ripple effect of support. Selena Cu...

A Beginner’s Guide to the Roots of Yoga

The modern practice of yoga in Western culture is often criticized for disconnecting from its cultural, historical, and spiritual roots. In many studios and gyms, yoga is reduced to a fitness routine—focused on stretching rather than its original purpose of enlightening the mind. In "A Beginner’s Guide to the Roots of Yoga," celebrated practitioner Nikita Desai reconnects readers with yoga’s ancient Indian origins. Drawing on her Indian heritage, Desai explores the deeper meanings behind yoga’s forms, postures, and intentions, offering a rich historical and philosophical context for those seeking a more authentic practice. Desai shares her personal journey of reclaiming yoga’s essence, inviting readers to do the same by integrating cultural awareness into their practice. Her tone is welcoming and nonjudgmental, making the book accessible to readers of all backgrounds. Although I do not practice yoga, my meditation roots lie in Zen Buddhism. Through conversations with prac...

Wash

Ebony Stewart’s "Wash" is a powerful, unflinching poetry collection that draws the reader into a world of raw emotion, deep introspection, and lyrical brilliance. As I read through the poems, I found myself captivated by Stewart’s honest reflections on identity, love, loss, and healing. Her voice is unapologetically bold, revealing the complexities of being a Black womxn navigating relationships, societal expectations, and hard-fought victories toward self-worth. Yet, her themes are universal, resonating with anyone who has grappled with their own identity and relationships. What struck me most was Stewart’s emotional transparency: each poem feels like a cleansing, a shedding of shame, doubt, and grief, revealing the triumph of knowing one’s value in a world that often seeks to diminish it. Stewart doesn’t shy away from exploring the pain of extractive love or the vulnerability of desire, but she also leaves room for empowerment and resilience. As a celebrated spoken word ...