Thank you so much for posting this poem here. It’s lovely. And like you, I’m trying to make Black history part of the stories people tell.

MY FATHER TOLD ME THEY’LL BE DAYS LIKE THIS
(KNOW YOUR STORY)

I kept telling people
about my father
no one believed me
know your story
he would say under
stand why you succeed me

I remember in
school I kept
investigating my
history
the teacher
scornfully said
“you don’t have
any history”

the day finally
came we went
on our springtime
class trip sight
seeing our regions
genius building
construction my
head kept stretching
back not
giving up on
wanting to see
the tallest steeple

I asked the guide
about black history
she responded black
people’s sole purpose
on earth was to
serve white people

When I look
at my history
the attempts
to keep me
in the dark
the removal of
certain pages
from the textbook
were no different
than cutting
out of my heart

I kept telling people
about my father if
ever there was a man
the national African
American History Museum
became my miraculous heart transplant

theolympian @ 2000