February is Black
History Month.
It started out as Negro Week by Dr. Carter G Woodson and others in
1926 who wanted to highlight those African Americans who had given of
themselves for the betterment of their race and give others encouragement to do
the same.
Decades later Negro
Week evolved into Black History Month, and celebrated nationally.
I do recognize those
who fit in this category and have been blessed to know that many of them have
made an impact on my life’s thinking.
My highlighted pick just happens to be a group of men and
women, and boys and girls.
They are found on numerous slave manifests by the thousands. 
They rose as the were identified on a one name basis and the color of their skin.
source Information: Ancestry.com New Orleans, Louisiana, Slave Manifests 1807-1860
This group of people
knew the agony of defeat all too well but they rose.
They rose to the
occasion to carry on despite the rushing of the cold waters of the ocean
pounding in their ears.
They rose despite the
call of the greedy yelling “Sold to the man over there” who was a lot more greedy.
They rose to the
treacherous hot sun in the noon day to the howl of the animals at night as they
bent to please the greedy.
Row by row by back breaking row and still they rose.
They rose to the sound
of the galloping horses hooves, mounted by United States Colored Troops and some marching along in the back and some on the side.
They rose as some gave nods of approval as if to bid them well in silence .
They rose even though they had no choice but to be used as a suckling
machine.
They toiled over hot biscuits and
pork taking time to weave and spin before the nights end to get their rest.
They rose as they sent
their children to one room shacks miles away from home early in the morning to
pick up a shared and tattered reader.
They learned to read and count one plus one equals two, two by two equals four.
They learned to read and count one plus one equals two, two by two equals four.
They rose against the battering
of night sticks as John Lewis and others walked across the William Pettis
Bridge.
They rose over hills in many a foreign land
and took flight as giant wings escorted many a man to be able to make it
homeward bound.
They rose to hear
Shirley St. Hill Chisolm announce her run for President.
They rose for Mississippi’s Fannie Lou Townsend Hamer words “I am sick and tired
of being sick and tired” as she fought for racial justice.
They rose to bring
forth the seeds sprinkled across this land to make many of us.
They Rose So We Could Rise!
