Often times people will ask me, “What does Black History Month mean to me?” So let me first explain what black is to me, then why Black History Month matters.

Growing up in Brentwood, Long Island, NY, I never really knew what it had meant to be black. Most of the kids who lived in my area were either black, Hispanic, or of some foreign nationality. There wasn’t much talk about race on a daily basis. We all went to school, came home, played out in the streets together, then went home. The color of my skin was just that—a color. We were all the same to me and I was fine with that.

But then I moved to Lawrenceville, GA. Where the farms and fields were plenty, so many dull two lane roads, and a grocery store so far that walking, like I did in NY, was not an option. Everyone said yes sir or yes ma’am. Sweet tea was somehow different than iced tea. The sun seemed to be down the block over the summers as opposed to light years away. Oh yeah, pollen was not just micro-particles any more, but more like the south’s version of snow.

But most importantly, others had me believe I was “unfortunately” black.

From those days on, I took it upon myself to get educated about being black and found pride in who I was. I read books, watched more TV tailored to those like me, I made new friends with people accepted me for who I was and would drive me to be a version of myself, not someone else. I embraced an identity of blackness. A group that had it harder than others, came from much less, were looked upon as less than, but I didn’t care. If I considered myself to be something other than what I was, I might as well have been nothing at all. Coming to Georgia taught me what it was to be black and I will forever be grateful because I am black and beautiful.

I dedicated myself to helping others realize what I had realized at such a young age. To be proud of who you are, and to be who you are. In college I devoted myself to an organization that would enhance the black male experience and not only aid in, but demand excellence. I became aware politically and socially. I for once in my life had come into microcosmic encounters of what prior generations had faced in full force. Reflecting on racist situations created a greater sense of respect to those who had to endure so much more than I could ever fathom. In turn it also created a greater sense of responsibility to embrace my fellow man and connect with them in ways others would not understand because of who we were. It changed me. BHM challenged me every year to truly find out who I am, where I come from, where I intended to go, and how many I could take with me.

It is a sad to reality to think such masses of people are not comfortable in their skin, simply because people tell them they aren’t in the right skin. Or even worse because they are ashamed of their history and in some ways bear the burden of things like slavery, and genocide, and segregation, and Jim Crow.

Today’s society doesn’t make it any easier. Black people are often told to forget what happened, or get over it. But how? It is ingrained into who we are. In this day and age so many of us are still not equal whether we want to believe it or not. No one will forget the holocaust. No one will forget 9/11.  And I am far from saying those events are unworthy of remembering, but somehow the tragic events of slavery, segregation and racism are irrelevant and no one is to blame. These are the reasons the gaps remain unbridged. These are the reasons the tensions are forever real. This is why I cling to black history and will never forget.

So Black History Month to me is not just a conglomerate of days with a title. It is a month long celebration of all that those before me had to endure and still endure to this day. It is a testament to the many that came before me and sacrificed often times everything they had including their lives, to pave the way for the next one up.

It is a beacon of hope for the many that find themselves hiding behind impersonations and false identities. It is a birthday for so many who left the earth so early fighting for what they believed in and some just going about their business. It is a statement to the world that no matter how many times you are beaten, broken, turned away, segregated, devalued or defamed, you can rise again. You will rise again. Because we rose again.

*True author of the post chooses to remain anonymous*

As a child, I was always fascinated by the world around me. The way people interacted with one another. The way leaves crunched on the street under my rain boots. The way people’s eyes got red and puffy when they laughed so hard they cried. My knowledge was the culmination of my observations.

Growing up in the suburbs of Atlanta was amazing. I was exposed to a diverse array of cultural, religious, and socioeconomic lifestyles from a young age, and those things also molded my perspective of the world. I grew up with Indian, African-American, Chinese, Korean, Mexican, and plain old American friends by my side. I didn’t even put any brain power into thinking about this because I thought it was how everyone grew up.

Once I got to university, however, everything changed.

I attended a big SEC school full of totally new cultures. I was exposed to something I had never seen or experienced before: racism. Coming of age right beside the historic center of the civil rights movement, I’d of course heard stories of racial discrimination, but I never really saw or understood what that really meant.

I joined AIESEC at my university in order to feel like I could be surrounded by globally-minded individuals, rather than the right wing conservatives I had been meeting, but in fact I wasn’t so sure that I was even globally-minded myself. The organization I was in seemed culturally inclusive and great, but who was I to even talk about the world if I only knew my own backyard? I decided then that the solution to these issues I was encountering at my university was to leave and learn in a new environment instead.

Last semester, I made the decision to travel abroad, and I picked just about the most comfort-zone destination I could have chosen: London, England. Now before you judge me, let me explain. I grew up on Harry Potter. This decision was just ingrained in my blood. I had to go.

I spent a wonderful five months in England, and I had the opportunity to travel to a few other countries in Western Europe. I made some of the best friends of my life and had so many incredible adventures.

But beautiful, clean, safe, London wasn’t so heavenly after all. While there, I had the chance to experience an election season. During this time, I learned a decent amount about the UK’s political history of systemic racism. There wasn’t a black MP until very recent history.

The melting pot of cultures present in London can be at times subject to racist scrutiny from those with native English blood. The Syrian refugee crisis tested the cultural acceptance of Great Britain.

The beautiful city I had grown to love was full of issues just as my own university back home was.

For this reason, coming home to the USA was a turning point for me. I realized that there was no way that I could solve the world’s problems before solving those in my own community. I decided to run for the national staff of AIESEC in the United States to do a marketing role, and here I am. The reason why I’m here is because I believe that leadership is the solution. The skills and understanding that I developed in AIESEC before and during the time I spent abroad are directly correlated to my desire and ability to make a difference as a young person.

Recently, an alumni of AIESEC in the United States, Jonathan Butler, started a youth movement at The University of Missouri. He peacefully protested the systemic racism of his schools’ administration and he succeeded in removing two of the main instigators of the issues. The university’s environment is by no means fixed, but what he has done is channeled his anger and passion into change. He stood with his peers to change things on his campus, and he caused real, tangible decisions to be made.

I saw a racist community back home so I fled. When I arrived, I found the same issues in my so-called safe haven. Young people need to realize that the issues they face here are the same issues that young people face all across the world. Facilitating those spaces and channels of communication may seem easy via social media, but the power of young people standing together is unquestionable. If I can play a part in facilitating that global connection and turning it into action, I’ll feel like I did something worthwhile.

And that’s why I do what I do.

I hate politics. Well actually, I despise politics. If you know me personally, you know that. But I just have to ask that you keep a few things in mind when you brag to me how you are a part of the “Drumpf Train.”

First of all, it’s not Drumpf that I hate so much, it’s his ideology: racism, sexism, homophobia, discrimination, etc.. I’m not able to comprehend that so many people I know are willingly supportive of such a hateful human being. It’s also not a Democrat/Republican issue. Quite frankly, I don’t belong to either of those two parties. Let me break it down why I am personally, as Kirsten, offended by the ideologies of Donald Drumpf.

First and foremost, I was blessed enough to be raised as a part of a biracial family. This taught me strong family values, respect, and the importance of fighting for equality. When you say “Drumpf,” I hear “racial injustice.” I don’t like that. If you know me and seem to care about me, why would you brag about the cruel things this candidate has to say about my family? You know my family is black, yet you’re so willing to openly cheer to me how you support a racist. That’s quite rude and inconsiderate.

“Drumpf,” you say. “Social injustice,” I hear.

I’ve also been blessed enough to have an array of gay/bi/lesbian friends and family in my life. I don’t like that either. Love is love. I’m religious, but people need a dose of reality. It’s not all Adam and Eve; you have to respect that not everyone believes in that (you do support the 1st amendment, don’t you?) How do you preach about the greatness of American freedom, yet attempt to infringe upon those rights when granted to people that are just wanting to live their lives in peace and happiness? They’re not bothering you, and you’re being quite mean.

I’m a feminist. Drumpf just isn’t. It would be totally bizarre and completely unnecessary for me to repeat how he refers to women. You know what he said. Hmm… Not really a fan of that either. I recall when you were worried about the transgender community sexually assaulting your children when being given their free right to go into their restroom of choice, yet now you’re supporting someone who actually has a record of sexual assault. Wait, you’re not worried about this candidate’s record of sexual assault? I’ll just sip my tea and mind my own business.

I’m currently majoring in Physics and Astronomy at the University of Georgia. You exclaim to me, “Oh my god, Kirsten! That’s so cool,” yet your vote for Drumpf tells me that you’re okay with his plans to cut NASA’s funding, and there’s also the possibility that you believe climate change is a hoax, or not a pressing issue. Tell me how cool you find my astrophysics studies when I can’t find a job in four years because one of the possible major employers of my desired profession isn’t able to pay me. Tell me how cool it is then.

In conclusion, I’m baffled by the people in my life that appear to support and claim they love me, yet personally go out of their way to strike down my friends and family. The voting is over, I’m not attempting to sway anyone. It just saddens me to know that my country willingly opts to have a leader who strongly supports such hateful ideals.  Next time you think about screaming “Drumpf” in my face as I peacefully exercise my right of the first amendment, please consider what you’re ACTUALLY supporting before you advocate for it. I really don’t think people think these things through.

On a side note, I reach out to all of those who share my sadness, and I encourage you to reach out to me if you wish. We may have lost the battle, but we have not lost the war. LOVE DRUMPFS HATE, and in the end, love will always prevail.

A lot of people have things they don’t like.  And you know what I hate the most is being called a bitch and nigger.

First, do I have a tail? Four legs with paws and do I have fur all over my body?

Also, do I have my tongue sticking out of my mouth?  Do I bark to communicate?

When I was born could my mother fit me in the palms of her hand?

Let me think; ah no!

As I recall, I stand on my two legs, I have hands and I use words to express myself.

I don’t recall being born with a tail.

And then people try getting away with saying bitch by making some type of complement.

By saying dogs bark, and bark is on a tree, and a tree is nature and nature is beautiful.When people call me a bitch I want to peg a dictionary at their face and beat them with it and have them look up the word and see that being called a bitch is a sign of disrespect. I am not an animal, I am a human being. I will not tolerate being called anything else but my actual name that is on my birth certificate.

For the cherry on top then people call me a nigger.

I have an education, I dress properly. I have brown color pigment in my skin and they call me a nigger. I don’t go around calling people a cracker so don’t call me what I am not. If you want to talk to me like that, you don’t have an education then clearly you should go talk to someone who cares because I clearly don’t give two flying f—what you have to say to me.

By: Arielena Aquino

(Written by Yara Mowafy)

As I heard about the California shooting, I caught myself wishing and hoping that the shooter would not be a Muslim.

I caught myself not caring even the slightest about those who lost their lives; I was hoping that the shooter would not be of color and would not be identified as a person who shares my beliefs. But deep down I hurt, I hurt for the innocent.

This is what the war on terror has done to the Muslim population in the world and in the United States especially. We are afraid of a fraction of the Muslim population; one that has tarnished our values, our religion and consequently the way the world views us.

Identifying as a Muslim female in a predominantly Christian culture is no easy feat. I constantly have to defend myself, my culture and my beliefs; Muslims around the world have fallen victim to the terrorizing acts of radicals.

And now, not only are we threatened and disrespected, but we’re continuously forced to apologize for the actions of others.

Just as we, Americans, do not correlate the heinous crimes of the Ku Klux Klan with Christianity, nor do we associate radical Jews in Israel with all of Judaism, ISIS does not define Islam.

Islam is a religion that promotes peace and goodness, just as the other Abrahamic religions do. Yet, in recent years, radical acts have diluted our core values and instead have painted an entire religion with the same brush. A painting with strokes of blood, deep fear and inconceivable actions.

To me, an American, an Egyptian, a Muslim, terrorism is the use of violence to achieve certain targets. However, the word is almost singlehandedly used to refer to acts of terror by radicals claiming to be Muslim.

This prejudice plagues us through “random” checks at airports, hate crimes as early as elementary school, and employers fearing the origin of our names.

The world has forgotten the accomplishments of Muslim scholars, be it the development of modern algebra, the first construction of a flying machine, and many other scientific advancements.

I can’t come to terms with the notion that I am one whose life does not matter; that Muslims are singled out as a people of terroristic tendencies. We are disgusted and terrified at the aimless bloodshed, just as much as you are, if not more.

I’m sitting here and ‪I’m praying for humanity‬‬‬, not only for those who live in fear and those who lost their lives, but praying for the rest of us to recognize selective grief and outrage.

The world is under attack, and we need to stop discriminating against entire nations.‬‬ (Photo Credit to Mostafa Sadek)