On Jan. 20, 2013, I was seven years old, and at that age, you (hopefully) gain some consciousness. 

Barack Obama was sworn in for his second term after previously serving four years as the United States of America’s first Black president.  

This didn’t quite make sense to me, seeing as everyone in my life was black and held some sort of position of power, whether it be in my life or their careers. 

Why does him being black matter? I asked myself at seven years old. 

We talked about it in the classroom, but at the time the impact of his presidency didn’t fully resonate with my seven-year-old brain.  To me, Obama was the first president in my life that I was able to acknowledge. 

Then, February came and there was an entire month dedicated to the history of people who looked like me (how awesome — right?). 

I got to learn about Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks and many other influential black figures. 

Then, it slowly started to click. 

I began to realize there was a month dedicated to black history because at a certain point … we weren’t people. 

I got older and my educators began teaching us about slavery, segregation, Jim Crow laws and everything regarding black history — I was shocked. 

How could a group of people be treated like this so long, had nobody realized early on how wrong this was? 

I then began to calm down and realized that all of that cruelty was in the past, we’re all happy now — right? 

Wrong. 

I reached my now early adulthood and realized their world wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. 

I experienced racism and discrimination in a world that I thought was healed. 

I realized other communities experienced the same hardships my people do. 

History once protected by the government is now under attack, as activities honoring Black History Month are being scaled back at the federal, historical and educational levels.

So why does it matter? 

Well, all of this matters because learning my history was never a requirement.  

We spent weeks learning all about Christopher Columbus and Susan B. Anthony; we spent a day learning about Martin Luther King Jr.

When I wanted to learn my history, I had to look on Google or take an extra non-mandatory class. 

My secondary education history class spoke of no black figures that helped shape American history.  But the professor isn’t to blame — it’s us. 

Black History Month isn’t a month to put Black Americans on a pedestal, but to acknowledge our contributions to society.

We weren’t just enslaved people; we were inventors, engineers and those who contributed to history and society.

We still are people who do all of these things, despite what some people in society may have to say. 

One day, when I make history, I want to ensure that my story and the stories of those who look like me are preserved and heard.