Several years ago, I developed a set of principles intended to center Black people’s humanity through their voices, experiences, and perspectives in Black history lessons. This Black Historical Consciousness framework consists of , but in hundreds of conversations with my fellow educators, I have noticed that just one always sparks the liveliest conversations. That principle is Black historical contention.
Black historical contention has two meanings. The first meaning is to understand that Black people were not a monolithic group throughout history. For the most part, I believe teachers understand the phenomenon; Black history lessons are littered with lessons comparing and contrasting Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. Du Bois or Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X.
It’s the second meaning that is more controversial. As Black history educators, we sometimes overcompensate for the absence of Black history in school curricula by teaching Black people and events through the three Ps: perfect, pristine, and pure. I call this phenomenon the “do no wrong” history, where teaching Black history is more focused on respectability than the exploration of history.
Implied through the absence of imperfect narratives is the suggestion that Black people did not participate in trauma or harm throughout history. Black people throughout history have been guilty of many isms and phobias, such as sexism, sexual harassment, homophobia, ethnic subjugation, and classism.
Take for example the history of Liberia, the West African country colonized by Black Americans. Beginning in the early 1820s, free Black Americans began to colonize a portion of West Africa as an independent Black nation. Supported by the integrated, white-led American Colonization Society, which believed that free Blacks and whites could not live together in the United States, many free Black people settled in the area and began an oppressive regime over the indigenous Black people of the region.
They set up a system of cultural and racial segregation and oppression that saw the minority Americo-Liberian population at the top and the majority indigenous Black population at the bottom, which contributed to civil war in the 1980s.
The colonization of Liberia is a perfect Black historical contention lesson because it:, a) highlights power dynamics between the Black American colonists and the African indigenous population; b) adds nuance to the concept of Blackness (the Americo-Liberians and indigenous African population did not see themselves as the same, despite a shared skin color); and c) engages the differences within the Black migration movements (i.e., the American Colonization Society and Back to Africa Movement).
Black historical contention seeks to recognize Black people’s full humanity—whether history is liberating or oppressive. Yet, when teaching about Black historical contention, my training sessions haves been, let’s say, contentious.
Educators who believe in the importance of teaching Black history are fighting decades of American history curricula that—either implicitly or explicitly—taught that Black people were not worthy of humanity because they had no history to be proud of. The legacy of Black history educators runs deep, and we have long fought against those unhealthy and dangerous stereotypes by championing histories that value our humanity.
I hear from many educators, usually Black teachers, who believe that a Black history course should be a space for joy and inspiration. They point out that Black students are not receiving that in their regular history courses, so why bring in narratives that paint Black people in a “bad” light in Black history? They worry that unflattering narratives will be weaponized against Black people.
Many white educators that I have spoken to simply do not feel comfortable teaching about the “bad” things Black people have done. As one white educator jokingly told me, “You are not going to set me up!”
I understand both concerns.
We do see “negative” Black histories weaponized. Consider the common refrain from people who want to minimize the evils of U.S.-based slavery: “Well, Africa had slavery, Black people owned Black people, too. Africans sold Africans!” These reductive arguments paint slavery as just a product of its time. Chattel slavery in the Americas was indeed a distinctly cruel system—a system that created a power structure that continues to plague us today.
The white educators have a legitimate concern as well when they express fears of being “set up” and getting embroiled in controversy in the news and social media. These educators understand that to be accused of teaching a “racist” lesson can be damaging to one’s reputation and career.
As teachers and citizens, we are uncomfortable with contention because we like our history simple. We are programmed to love and celebrate our heroes and loathe our villains. We desire role models in history and, when historical people and their roles become confusing, we retreat from that complexity. In Black history, this approach encourages us to easily identify those who have been oppressed (see: Black people) and easily identify the transgressors (see: white folks).
But what happens when we do not confront contentiousness in Black history?
First, I would argue that we are not teaching Black history. History is all about learning about the humanity of groups of people, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Our heroes are flawed because they are human and not perfect. When we resist teaching those concepts in Black history lessons, we devalue Black people’s full humanity.
If we only allow a respectable history that represents us in a pleasant light, what message do we send our students?
What if our students are not “perfect” themselves? What if our students do not talk like these heroes, have the same education or religious faith, are not middle class and straight? What if our students ideologically disagree with our Black heroes?
Studying history can teach us how to make a difference in our communities today. Our students need to learn from the contentious past and realize that their own imperfections do not hinder them from becoming historically relevant and making a difference.
We need to learn from human weakness, fault, difference, and even “evil”—just as much as we learn from accomplishments. We may even find that Black historical contention is more inspiring.
Read more from educators on advancing Black history education.