As I look back, Black History Month was not a big thing for me growing up, even though I was biracial. In my elementary school we would learn the usual things about Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks and do a few crafts and activities and that was it. Once the month ended, it was on to the next thing.
My day to day reality, though, was informed by my mother being Black and my father being white. They were high school sweethearts, and had me shortly after they graduated and married at the end of the 80’s. My mother did her best to expose me to Black culture and keep us connected and close to family, but also acknowledged that I wasn’t only Black. I give her credit for never making me feel like I had to “choose a side...” | 
