Melva Mack shares what Black History Month means to her.
Black History Month has never just been a date on the calendar for me. It’s a reminder of the strength I come from, the shoulders I stand on and the stories that were often whispered instead of celebrated. I was born in Mississippi, and many of my summers were spent there with family.
It was a place full of love and deep roots, but also a place where racism was real and visible. As a child, I was exposed to a level of racism that left an imprint. It taught me early that the world didn’t always see us as equal, even though our culture, our resilience, and our contributions said otherwise.
Black history lived in my home — in the pride my family carried, the music, the food, the laughter and the sacrifices made so I could have opportunities they never did. But my story also lives at another intersection.
I am queer, and at times that has meant feeling isolated in parts of the African American community, especially within the Black Church. Spaces that have long been sources of strength and identity can also be places where some of us feel unseen or pushed to the margins. Still, I hold onto hope.