We’re over a month into Donald Trump’s presidency, and our institutions and rights are under attack. Each day brings new uncertainty, making us question what’s next.

Shortly after his inauguration, I stumbled upon a YouTube video that stopped me in my tracks. The footage showed thousands of books on African American history—stacked in a warehouse, discarded. Florida schools and universities had been forced to remove these books due to extremist policies emboldened by Trump’s influence. I watched in disbelief. Then, I wept.

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I called my best friend, struggling to process what I had just seen. My mind raced through the legacies of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Maya Angelou, Harriet Tubman—figures whose sacrifices paved the way for my own existence and opportunities. The idea that future generations might be denied their stories, their truths, felt like an unbearable loss.

But then, I remembered something powerful: Black history has never been confined to textbooks. For centuries, our knowledge has been passed down through oral traditions—through griots, through music, literature, and art. While we fought for our place in education, our true history has always lived within our families and communities. No institution can erase that.

Every February, I greet every Black person I see with a joyful, “Happy Black History Month.” Whether at work, the grocery store, or the club, the response has always been warm—until this year. Now, I hear an unsettling reply: “Yeah… it’s the last one.”

This fear stems from Trump’s repeated threats to eliminate cultural heritage months in workplaces and schools. His administration has already begun dismantling DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) programs—rolling back decades of progress in anti-discrimination policy. Yet, in a striking contradiction, Trump recently signed a proclamation recognizing February as Black History Month:

“I call upon public officials, educators, librarians, and all the people of the United States to observe this month with appropriate programs, ceremonies, and activities.”

—Donald J. Trump, Presidential Proclamation

His words ring hollow when stacked against the actions of his administration, which actively works to erase the very history he claims to honor.

But here’s the truth: Black history isn’t dependent on government recognition. It isn’t confined to February. It has survived enslavement, systemic erasure, and oppression. And as the old Negro spiritual says, We shall overcome.

As members of this academic institution—whether faculty, alumni, or students—we must be intentional in preserving our history. We must ensure that Black voices remain visible, accessible, and celebrated. The burden is not just on historians or educators; it is on all of us.

So, let’s tell our stories. Let’s challenge erasure. Let’s amplify our history in our classrooms, our communities, and our conversations. Because if we don’t protect our legacy, who will?

Black history isn’t a month. It’s a movement.