Sometimes you just have to ask....

I happened to pass an instructor's office in NSH and noticed a poster on the door. As I glanced at the title, I wondered--why?

Just, why?

I have been "black" or "African-American", or "Negro" all of my life although my heritage is French, Welsh, native and African. So have my parents, grandparents, and some of their parents.

From January 1, 1863 to this day, all of us have been free and citizens. That makes them and me Americans.

So why do I have to have my own history?

No other people in this country, whose ancestors came from another continent, have a totally separate history from everyone else. Not South America, Europe, Asia, Australia, or Antarctica--just Africa.

It is wrong.

I am an American whose skin is brown. I belong. I am part of the group.

This is my country and I share its history.

I pledge allegiance to the flag of this country. I sing God bless this country, land that I love... America the Beautiful, The Star-spangled Banner..This land is your land, this land is my land.

Those are songs about my country.

And yet, I am stuck on the outside.

Why?

I just had to ask.