We live in extraordinary times. As Black History Month 2026 comes to a close, I find myself asking: What have I learned? And what commitment do I really have to making the study of Black history a personal priority — and to sharing what I learn, especially with my white friends?

I grew up largely ignorant of the legacy of slavery and the depth of racism in America. From my white position of advantage, I believed I knew “enough” — enough to recognize injustice and oppose it. But failing to go deeper was, in truth, a form of arrogance and entitlement. That ignorance made it easier to miss both structural racism and the everyday microaggressions faced by Black and Brown people.

Today, I watch with horror the fear and trauma ICE and its tactics have created in Minnesota. Because I had begun to learn more about structural racism, I was appalled at policy decisions that seemed to prioritize deportation numbers over human dignity, including agreements to prioritize deportation of immigrants in prison. Evidence continues to show deep inequities within the justice system, including the disproportionate incarceration of African American and Hispanic people.

I was heartened by the turnout in Minneapolis and St. Paul to oppose ICE tactics and to support immigrant and refugee neighbors. Yet public attention seemed to peak only after two white people were killed by ICE agents — a painful reminder of whose suffering often receives the most attention.

This brings me back to why learning Black history matters. Such a study makes clear the importance of sustained attention to racial justice for African-Americans and all Black and Brown brothers and sisters. History and our current immigration policy and the lived experience of many non-white families today make clear the heightened fear and uncertainty that too many people live with.

Ignorance of our history makes it easier to resist adapting to a nation that is increasingly diverse in faith, culture, and origin — rather than one defined primarily by Christian nationalist and  European-immigrant roots.

Here are just a few facts I learned later than I should have — facts that continue to shape life in the United States today:

• In 1664, the Province of Maryland passed a law making enslavement of African people lifelong.
• In the 1854 Dred Scott decision, the Supreme Court ruled that people of African descent could not become U.S. citizens.
• Reconstruction after the Civil War demonstrated that multiracial democracy worked. Over 2000 Black men held political office during Reconstruction, including Hiram Revels, who became the first U.S. Black Senator in 1870. This progress was viciously dismantled by white violence and political compromises. 
• The Thirteenth Amendment (1865) abolished slavery, and the Fourteenth Amendment (1866) extended equal protection under the law to formerly enslaved people. However, the 13^th Amendment allowed slavery as a punishment for crime.  Southern states then passed Black Codes criminalizing minor behavior, arrested Black men in large numbers, and leased prisoners to private companies for brutal forced labor.
• Beginning in the late 1870s, Jim Crow laws enforced racial segregation and unequal opportunities across education, housing, and public life to undermine the 13^th and 14^th amendments. 
• In 1910, Baltimore passed the first racial zoning ordinance in the U.S., preventing African Americans from living in predominantly white neighborhoods. Even after courts struck down such laws, restrictive housing covenants continued segregation for decades. From 1973–1980, I worked in neighborhood development and homeownership counseling without understanding this history.
• Racism and discrimination in housing, employment, education and health, among other areas, resulted in the large wealth gap between white and African Americans in the U.S. 

Learning Black history is about understanding how American democracy was shaped, expanded and constrained. When we misunderstand Black history, we misunderstand America. The life of the Reverend Jesse Jackson and his passing recently is a poignant reminder of how basic the fight for civil rights in America is. Rev. Jackson preached to Black people, “You are somebody,” because so often white society treated Black people as if they didn’t exist. 

Ignorance of past injustices makes new injustices possible. The question for all of us is this: How do we keep learning the truth about Black history in America — and how far we still must go to make real the promise of liberty and justice for all?