I want you to know that I see you. I see the way you walk into rooms and sometimes feel like you have to prove that you belong there. I see the way you have learnt to laugh off certain comments because explaining why they hurt would take too much energy. I see the way you sometimes question whether your name, your culture, your hair, your skin, your accent will be accepted before you even introduce yourself.

And I see our parents too.

The parents who left everything they knew behind and came to a country hoping their children would have opportunities they never had. The parents who worked long hours sacrificed their comfort and sometimes paused their own dreams so we could chase ours. Some of our parents came here with very little but somehow found a way to give us more.

They told us to go to school.

They told us to work hard.

They told us that education would open doors.

And maybe sometimes we did not understand why they pushed us hard, but now I do. Because for many of our parents, getting an education was just not about getting a certificate; it was about breaking a cycle. It was about giving their children choices. It was about making sure the next generation did not have to struggle in exact ways they did.

THAT IS PART OF BLACK HISTORY TOO

Black History Month is often associated with names we know from history books; people who fought, protested, created and changed the world. But I think black history is also sitting at our dinner tables.

It is our MOTHERS.

It is our FATHERS.

It is our GRANDPARENTS

The people who sacrificed quietly and never asked for recognition. It is the Black student sitting in a university lecture today because someone before them refused to give up. And yet, even after everything our parents have overcome, we still live in a world where being Black can mean having to navigate racism in ways that are sometimes obvious and sometimes hidden. Sometimes racism is direct, it is the stereotype, it is the dog whistle, and sometimes it is simply being seen differently because of the color of your skin.

That is why the series When They See Us stays with me. The Netflix series tells the story of the central park five, five black and Latino teenagers whose lives were devastated after they were wrongfully accused and convicted in connection with the Central park jogger case. What makes the story so painful is not only what happened to those boys, but the reminder of how society can create a version of a black person before seeing the person themselves.

They were children!

But they were treated as though their identities have already been decided for them, and that’s why their story belongs in conversations about Black History Month. Black history is not only about celebrating the people who made it through.

So, we must tell our own stories. And our stories can’t always be about suffering because look at us

We are here

We are studying

We are graduating

We are becoming doctors, lawyers, journalists, engineers, creatives, entrepreneurs, teachers, politicians, filmmakers, musicians and leaders.

We are creating futures

We are BLACK EXCELLENCE

I do not want us to become so used to fighting that we forget to celebrate ourselves.

Celebrate your skin

Celebrate your culture

Celebrate your hair

Celebrate your accent

Celebrate your journey.

Bob Marley said, “Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights”.

To the black student who feels like they don’t belong in university: you belong.

To the black person entering a workplace where nobody look likes you: take your seat.

To the black creative who is scared their voice isn’t good enough: tell your story anyway.

We have survived too much to make ourselves small.

So, to my Black brothers and sisters:

Be proud.

Tell your story

Know your history.

Build your future.

And above all

DO NOT YIELD.

Happy Black History Month.