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One of the easiest ways to honor Black people and our culture is to recognize, partake in, buy, support, and appreciate their art. In a country that has historically taken from and exploited Black art without recognition, the burden often lies on Black people to create and support our own thing.

As we progress as a country, there seems to be this idea that representation politics don’t matter anymore–ie that we should stop celebrating Black people in higher positions/in the media, and just start expecting it. While I think this is an important viewpoint to have, especially in a time where sometimes pro-Blackness stops at representation without going further to actually create any change–mosaic’s youth have been teaching me that representation still matters to many young people.

Carsyn is one of the youngest members in Mosaic’s Acting company–12 years old– and she says that Mosaic is her second home. Because she sees herself represented in leadership, peers, other performers and musicians that work with the company, etc., she feels like it’s easier to be understood and listened to.

I got to chat with Carsyn Sunday, and she shared with me that seeing all-Black casts–or even majority-Black casts–telling Black stories is still powerful to her, especially as someone aspiring to be in their position one day.

“I honestly think it’s really beautiful that our Community can come together in the form of art and theater and choir, sharing their different stories and showing what it’s like to be who we are,” Carsyn shared with me. She says that it’s still more nuanced than just appreciating representation, though. Instead, Carsyn recognizes the power in telling Black stories to share the Black experience– “how we’re feeling, what we’ve been through, and our history” –and not just telling them because they’re fun shows to watch.

It’s important to honor Black art for what it is, which is oftentimes much deeper than what lies at the eye. Certain Black stories are to retain history and folklore, others to offer moments of healing and love, and sometimes Black art is created just to let other Black folk know they aren’t alone in their experience.

Carsyn’s focus on the power of Black people coming together and building community through art is much more powerful when we push past representation (which is also such an important concept to recognize) and see that we are also building each other up through the process.

Imani Harris is a 2018 alumna of the Mosaic Singers. She is currently finishing her Journalism and African American studies degrees at Northwestern University. Imani is passionate about using her voice and knowledge to share Black stories, and especially to support and illuminate all the beauty that exists in the Black community.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how we celebrate Black history month this year.

Whenever I ask young people, or anyone really, how they celebrate, they may talk about what they learned in school, what they’ve been watching on tv, or even maybe the ways that they engage with other Black people this month.

But one thing I don’t often hear is how they may be celebrating themselves and their own Blackness in February. Rarely does anyone speak to the ways that they are pouring into themselves, loving on themselves, learning about themselves, when it comes to a month supposedly dedicated to us. What does it mean to feel like celebrating Blackness doesn’t intrinsically mean celebrating yourself?

Then, I met Makayla, a student at Detroit Waldorf who seems to really be trying to personalize Black history month for herself this year. Instead of thinking about the ways that she’s traditionally learned Black history, Makayla is actively working to think about ways that she can daily acknowledge and strengthen her own connection with her Blackness, in ways like connecting to music through lyric analysis, watching speeches without an academic obligation, and more.

When I asked her how she liked to celebrate, Makayla spent a long time thinking, and even more time explaining that she didn’t really know what she should be doing to celebrate–or even if there was a should.

And that really got my mind spinning. How have we historically taught Black youth to celebrate this month in a way that means something for longer than this month? How can we use this month as a conversation-starter, and NOT the entire conversation, about loving your own Blackness and learning to see your identity as something that is worth exploring and celebrating?

I decided that this week I would work on a list of ways that I worked through my Blackness in high school, hoping that even one idea inspires another Black person to do the work this month on themselves. I also hope that this inspires those responsible for teaching us to think of different ways to make Black history personal to us–almost every student can tell me who Dr.Martin Luther King was, but I wonder if we could take that further and ask students how we see his values and dreams in our own lives.

Some Ways I Celebrate/Explore my Blackness

1. Reading Black works/enjoying Black art
   • Toni Morrison, Zora Neal Hurston, Ta-Nehisi Coates, and bell hooks are just a few authors that I like to prioritize. I think it’s important to get a good mix of historical context that we can use to make sense of our experiences today. It might help you understand why you feel certain ways about something you see everyday, or even just help you see the world and yourself in it differently.
   • Makayla talked about how leaders in Mosaic didn’t just assign them Black songs to sing–they made them go through the lyrics line-by-line to think about what they meant. It’s easy to read an entire book, poem, song, etc. and never sit and think through what commentary the author, singer, etc. was trying to make. Try to think about these pieces in relation to yourself this month, and what ways you can relate them to your experience and personal growth, instead of just existing as something we read because the author is Black and amazing (which they (ALWAYS) are.
2. Creating with other Black people
   • Makayla and I agreed that there is nothing more empowering than singing a song written for and by Black people, WITH other Black people. She told me about a song that the singers created using similes that filled in the phrase: “Black is like____,” or “Black is ____.” She says that this was one of the moments that stood out to her, especially when it was time to perform the song. It’s important to use Black history month as a moment to build community with people who look like you, and doing that through art is SUCH an unforgettable experience.
3. Try to learn about someone/something you didn’t before
   • One message I’m constantly getting from young artists in Mosaic is that they learn about the same people every February in schools, at home, etc. I want us to start envisioning what it might look like for Black people to use this month as an opportunity to completely learn/unlearn something about Blackness, and then make a commitment to put this into action. Is there a concept you’ve never got to dig into? A book you’ve always heard about but never read? A skill you’ve always wanted to try but couldn’t? A person who’s name you heard once but forgot? Use this month to start looking into aspects of Blackness you may not have considered before, and I promise that you will grow in your own self-love and celebration, too.

My interview with Makayla really has me thinking about how we are teaching our young folks to think about, and participate in Black history month. This month wasn’t created to continuously prove that Black people have historically been great–it’s to acknowledge all that we have accomplished and done in order to welcome in and prepare for more!

I’m no expert in Black history, but I am fairly confident in the ways that I have learned to understand, celebrate, study and exude my Blackness.

Imani Harris is a 2018 alumna of the Mosaic Singers. She is currently finishing her Journalism and African American studies degrees at Northwestern University. Imani is passionate about using her voice and knowledge to share Black stories, and especially to support and illuminate all the beauty that exists in the Black community.