A new future for Black history: From preservation to possibility

Black History Month is outdated.

At first glance, that statement might seem humorously contradictory, even provocative — but stay with me as I explain, starting from the beginning.

In 1915, Carter G. Woodson co-founded the Association for the Study of African American Life and History (ASALH) alongside Alexander L. Jackson, George C. Hall, James E. Stamps, and William B. Hartgrove. Their mission was radical for its time: to recover intentionally erased Black contributions, challenge racist historical scholarship, and establish academic legitimacy for Black history.

In 1926, the ASALH announced the first Negro History Week. It was strategically placed in the second week of February to align with the birthdays of Frederick Douglass and Abraham Lincoln. This early era of celebration was fundamentally educational, focused on institutionalizing Black history in schools and universities.

From the 1930s to the 1950s, the movement expanded into churches, community groups, and schools, emphasizing cultural pride and collective affirmation.

During the Civil Rights Era, Black history became inseparable from activism. It was a tool of liberation, a counter-narrative to whitewashed textbooks, and a rallying point for systemic change.

The shift from a week to a month came in 1969, when Black students and educators at Kent State University expanded the celebration to Black History Month (BHM). The first official BHM took place in 1970, and by 1976 the United States government formally recognized it. Canada followed soon after.

This series of initiatives in history is a testament to the intellectual labour, community organizing, and political courage that built the foundation we stand on today.

The work of Woodson and generations of Black scholars, activists, and community leaders restored dignity, visibility, and legitimacy to Black history. But foundations are meant to be built upon, not lived in forever.

BHM was created to fill the gaps in a violently incomplete historical record. It aimed to repair a tarnished image and reclaim a stolen narrative. That work was essential. But today, the needs of Black communities have evolved.

We are no longer fighting to prove that Black history exists.

We are fighting to define what Black futures can look like.

Right now, BHM risks becoming an annual rehearsal; a predictable rotation of the same stories, the same figures, the same lessons. We honour Rosa Parks, but rarely examine the philosophies and strategies that shaped her courage. We celebrate historical victories, but often stop short of asking how those victories should inform our next steps.

The result of stagnation is passive learning. Habituation. A ritual of remembrance without a corresponding vision for what comes next.

And this matters not only for us, but for the generations who will follow. Our children deserve to inherit more than stories of survival. They deserve a world where they can see themselves as the continuation of generations of love, brilliance, and possibility. A future-focused BHM helps build that world. It ensures that the next generation grows up knowing that they are not beginning from scratch, but standing on a foundation intentionally crafted for their success.

If Black history teaches us anything, it is that every generation of Black thinkers transformed their future. But their future is now our past. Now the question we must ask is: what future are we preparing for?

In my role as Vice-president (external) of the University of Alberta’s Black Students’ Association, I see how Black history shapes the confidence and imagination of younger students. A future‑focused BHM helps ensure that Black children grow up knowing they are supported by generations of love, resilience, and intention.

This year, the UABSA will host its seventh annual BHM Gala under the theme “A Black Print for the Future.” This theme acknowledges a dual truth: we honour the legacy that brought us here, and we also recognize the responsibility to build forward.

With over 400 expected guests, this is the largest BHM program at the U of A and one of the most significant in Edmonton. The gala has become more than a celebration — it is a space for imagining, designing, and claiming Black futures with intention.

Black history is not only a record of what has been.

It is a blueprint for what can be.

And it is time we start treating it that way.