The Buzz: Black History Month at 100—and the Ongoing Fight Against Erasure

This year marks 100 years since the formal recognition of Black History Month. What began as Negro History Week in 1926 was created by historian Carter G. Woodson in response to the widespread exclusion and mischaracterization of Black people and their contributions from American history. Woodson’s goal was not simply recognition for recognition’s sake, but to ensure that Black history was understood as central to the American story, and to counter racist misperceptions about Black people’s abilities and aspirations.

One hundred years later, when Black history is being minimized, contested, and actively erased, it raises the question: What does it mean that we are still confronting the very conditions that made Black History Month necessary in the first place?

Today, in the US, there is a concerted effort to control which stories are being told. Books that explore race, racism, slavery, and Black experiences are being banned from schools and libraries. DEI efforts, which aim to address inequities and expand access and opportunity, are being rolled back and labeled divisive. Historic displays, like those addressing slavery and racial violence, are being removed from government sites.

Teaching Black history is increasingly being framed as political or ideological, with the suggestion that learning about slavery and racism is a form of indoctrination rather than education. This is precisely the environment Carter G. Woodson was responding to when he created Negro History Week. Black history was excluded, distorted, and treated as a threat to dominant narratives. One hundred years later, despite some progress and formal recognition, we still confront too many of the same inequities.

The erasure or restriction of Black history doesn’t just harm Black communities—it weakens the country as a whole. When a nation refuses to face parts of its history, it limits its ability to make progress. It shapes public policy and how people understand concepts like fairness, opportunity, and responsibility. It also fuels division by reinforcing myths rather than equipping people with the context needed to engage in honest dialogue.

As we mark this momentous milestone, the question is not whether Black history matters – because it does. The question is how we protect it, teach it honestly, and treat it as essential to understanding who we are as a nation. Avoiding difficult truths may offer short-term comfort for some, but it deepens stress, trauma, and fatigue, especially for Black people.