Martin Luther King Jr. Day

As a young Black child growing up in the 90s, Martin Luther King Jr. Day was commemorative, and it was special. It also often felt like a punishment or a punitive celebration. Not because I didn’t believe in and deeply understand the work of Dr. King, but because every MLK Jr. Day, my friend and I were sat down in front of the TV at his father’s house, and a substantial set of VHS tapes was brought out and placed on the coffee table. Then, the two of us sat down to watch the documentary television series “Eyes on the Prize.” This was the yearly tradition for us. A tradition that I noticed was not the same for the white children in my class, nor the white teachers for the most part. 

As the child of a Black woman who marched on Washington on that fateful day in 1963, I couldn’t help but be educated, Black, and radicalized. There’s no way to escape that conviction when you grow up in a home with a liberal, educated, Black mother. 

If you’ve never seen “Eyes on the Prize,” it is a graphic film about the different stages of the Civil Rights Movement. I was comfortable and familiar with the notion of my Black ancestors being hosed down in the streets and having dogs set on them. And yes, all of this was presented in Black and White video footage from the very streets it happened on. Historical footage with a somber voiceover narration was played for hours on end. I think “Eyes on the Prize” is actually, in total, fourteen hours long, and we most often sat through several of those hours in a day. 

What Is the Outcome of This? What Does This Mean?

I think somewhere around High School, I finally understood why our parents sat us down and extra-educated us on a national holiday that we could have spent playing in the park or at a white friend’s house for playdates. It wasn’t because they wanted us to have a miserable day off (although 3rd-grade rumors would have said so!) but because they wanted–no, needed–us to know where we came from so that we would be ready when the world turned on its axis, and we found ourselves back there again.

There have been many times since elementary school when I have been in high school or college classes and have had to correct people on the very history I spent those days watching on that TV. I remember being in my 60s Civil Rights class and the very white, very large cowboy teacher asking me, “What would be the ‘Negro’ point of view here, Nia.” And while no one can or should give the ‘negro’ POV, I was able to succinctly answer what Black folks at the time were collectively thinking and what their convictions were in the 60s. 

Let’s not believe that education comes only from VHS tapes or “understanding our history,” but in a way, it most certainly does. And I can’t help but wonder often these days if the white kids, instead of spending Martin Luther King Jr. Day at home napping, at the park playing, or at some other white kid’s house hanging out, would the world be in the same place that it is today? Would the education and knowledge of our history, the history of Martin Luther King Jr., and the history of our country’s fight for Civil Rights be another byline in so many people’s memories?