Editor’s note: This is the monthly contribution from Boardhawk columnist Dr. Aaron Massey.
Each Black History Month, I commit to learning something new and I’ve been digging into Denver black history a bit.
Did you know: dating back to at least the early 1900s, Black Denverites built a strong middle class, housing, social spaces, etc. Post World War II, Black soldiers returned home and began to rightfully demand equality. Simultaneously, Black folks were fleeing the Jim Crow south at the peak of the Great Migration (Wilkerson, 2010).
And some of those folks landed in Denver. Where native Black residents were fighting for equality based on what they’d experienced for decades, Black migrants – who’d recently experienced lynchings, sundown towns, and economic oppression – minimized the plights of Black folks from Denver (Hansen, 2007). Without intention, these two groups clashed.
Two groups of people, connected by closer-than-now ancestral roots, experiencing the same community in different ways for deeply personal reasons. Though I’ve been fortunate enough to build dope relationships with Black folks from Denver myself, this socio-historical schism reverberates today. No shade. A schism that I believe can be healed with words. But a schism nonetheless.
I’m probably saying the quiet part out loud here but: people know that these sorts of schisms exist. Spaces where people are most likely to divide. They are using that information to incrementally move us towards plutocracy, and that definitely sounds conspiratorial.
But drones are murdering in Ukraine, the Pope is from Chicago, and Bad Bunny broke the viewership record at half time. The world is changing, so keep up.
And just how some folks were scared to speak up against Jim Crow because of fear, people are fearful to speak up about ICE.
I was too. But it’s something about my Black experience, my ancestors Black experience, and it being Black History Month that’s making me feel like Craig before he fought Deebo:
ICE has murdered people: Keith Porter Jr., Luis Gustavo Núñez Cáceres, Geraldo Lunas Campos, Renee Good, Alexi Pretti, Víctor Manuel Díaz, Parady La.
ICE has arrested parents, pepper sprayed polIce officers, and tormented neighborhoods.
I had a third grade student say, “I heard ICE was going to kidnap all Latinos” during a classroom observation last week.
There are more historical schisms at play. When I first moved to Denver, I learned that there was some historical tension between Latinos and Black folks. People have tried to exploit that. The experience of growing up in a rural, mountain town and city life is different. People exploit that. Some folks listen to rap music and others listen to country. They have exploited that.
Some folks vote Democrat. Some folks vote Republican. This is the biggest exploitation of them all.
And right now, today, people are in the early stages of exploiting that some of us are afraid to speak up and some of us are not. You have just as valid of a reason to not speak up as those that didn’t speak up during Jim Crow. And though that might come off as direct, the gravity of what’s happening in your community, right now, is no less paramount.
Though our experiences aren’t the same, our histories are connected. Your freedom is connected to mine. My decision to speak up impacts more than me.
And thousands of students across the country have your back.
You can say it.
ICE should not be in our communities. Covering your face and hopping out of unmarked cars demanding identification, like stop and frisk, isn’t acceptable. Targeting families at schools and churches is beyond the pale. Murder is bad. Unchecked authority is dangerous and has lasting consequences.
Fear can not drive us to silence. Lifting our voices has always been the first step.
Happy Black History Month.
