Skip to content
Search

Latest Stories

Follow Us:
Top Stories

African American Literature Matters

Opinion

African American Literature Matters

Girl (6-8) looking at book in library, silhouette

Getty Images//Terry Vine

This year's observance of Black History Month carries forward the centennial anniversary of the Harlem Renaissance. However, in this reflective season, we find ourselves at a crossroads that would be painfully familiar to those pioneering writers and artists of the 1920s.

The significance of African American literature has never been more profound. This is neither an imaginative nor conspiratorial factoid, especially amid the systematic dismantling of DEI initiatives, ethnic-centered curricula, and history. With six states and counting passing anti-DEI laws, universities nationwide are discontinuing their diversity programs. And more than 30 bills across the United States now target diversity initiatives in public colleges, threatening to unravel decades of progress in educational equity and cultural understanding. These actions are not just judicious administrative decisions. On the contrary, there are meticulously coordinated attempts to mute the very voices and existence of people and their sociocultural experiences and artifacts across generations. Illuminating why African American literature and ethnocultural genres remain paramount.


The parallels between our present moment and the birth of the Harlem Renaissance are undeniable. Then, as now, Black writers faced a society that sought to minimize their experiences and contributions. The response wasn't retreat but renaissance—a flowering of artistic expression that changed the world and reshaped American culture irrevocably. African American literary works have forever served a dual purpose: art and as an instrument of social change. From the searing testimonies of slave narratives to the jazz-infused poetry of Langston Hughes, from Zora Neale Hurston's folk-rooted storytelling to Toni Morrison's mythic explorations of Black experience, this literary tradition has consistently done more than tell stories—it has preserved history, challenged oppression, and imagined new possibilities for justice and equality.

African American literature’s prowess resides in its capacity to transform personal experience into universal truth. When Ralph Ellison wrote on invisibility, he wasn't just describing the Black experience in America—he was illuminating the human condition of being unseen, unheard, and misunderstood. When Maya Angelou asked why the caged bird sings, she spoke to anyone who fought for freedom against overwhelming odds. This universality, paradoxically achieved through the most specific and personal stories, makes African American literature relevant and essential to understanding the American experience.

Though numerous institutions are reevaluating or removing resources for underrepresented Americans from their websites and curricula, African American literature serves as both a repository of epic memory and a beacon for the future. The literature that emerged from the Harlem Renaissance didn't just document a movement; it became the movement, creating spaces for Black voices where none existed. African American literary tradition has always understood that words and art are the means for articulating struggle—the experience of being both American and Black in a society that never fully recognizes or respects such a reality. African American literature's exploration and explication of such complexity remains important as we grapple with questions of identity, belonging, and justice.

The relevance of Black Americans' literary contributions should not be debated. Our literary tradition offers what no policy can erase: authentic voices speaking truth to power, creating beauty from struggle, and insisting on the full humanity of all people. Black folks’ pens, brushes, and instruments provide a counter-narrative to simplifying or sanitizing American history.

As distractors diligently seek to silence uniquely diverse voices, my people's literature speaks louder than ever. There is life and power in logos— to illuminate truth, inspire change, and build understanding. No legislative agenda or executive decree can veto that divine reality. The power of yours, mine, and our story can change hearts, open minds, and transform worlds.

Rev. Dr. F. Willis Johnson is a spiritual entrepreneur, author, and scholar-practitioner whose leadership and strategies around social and racial justice issues are nationally recognized and applied.

Read More

DEI Dilemma? Start Building Community within Your Organization

Team of male and female entrepreneurs working on computers at office

Getty Images

DEI Dilemma? Start Building Community within Your Organization

Amid the pushback to DEI, an essential truth often gets lost: You have agency over how you approach building diversity, equity, and inclusion into your organization.

No executive order or unhinged rant can change that.

Keep ReadingShow less
White Books and Curriculum Damage Black Children

The rise of book bans and erasure of Black history from classrooms emotionally and systematically harms Black children. It's critical that we urge educators to represent Black experiences and stories in class.

Getty Images, Klaus Vedfelt

White Books and Curriculum Damage Black Children

When my son, Jonathan, was born, one of the first children’s books I bought was "So Much" by Trish Cooke. I was captivated by its joyful depiction of a Black family loving their baby boy. I read it to him often, wanting him to know that he was deeply loved, seen, and valued. In an era when politicians are banning books, sanitizing curricula, and policing the teaching of Black history, the idea of affirming Black children’s identities is miscast as divisive and wrong. Forty-two states have proposed or passed legislation restricting how race and history can be taught, including Black history. PEN America reported that nearly 16,000 books (many featuring Black stories) were banned from schools within the last three years across 43 states. These prohibitive policies and bans are presented as protecting the ‘feelings’ of White children, while at the same time ignoring and invalidating the feelings of Black children who live daily with the pain of erasure, distortion, and disregard in schools.

When I hear and see the ongoing devaluation of Black children in schools and public life, I, and other Black parents, recognize this pain firsthand. For instance, recently, my teenage granddaughter, Jaliyah, texted me, asking to visit the National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington, D.C., because she had heard that the President planned to close it. For what felt like the millionth time, my heart broke with the understanding that too many people fail to rally on behalf of Black children. Jaliyah’s question revealed what so many Black children intuitively understand—that their histories, their feelings, and their futures are often treated as expendable.

Keep ReadingShow less
Pluralism or DEI - or Both - or None?

equity, inclusion, diversity

AI generated

Pluralism or DEI - or Both - or None?

Even before Trump’s actions against DEI, many in the academic community and elsewhere felt for some time that DEI had taken an unintended turn.

What was meant to provide support—in jobs, education, grants, and other ways—to those groups who historically and currently have suffered from discrimination became for others a sign of exclusion because all attention was placed on how these groups were faring, with little attention to others. Those left out were assumed not to need any help, but that was mistaken. They did need help and are angry.

Keep ReadingShow less
Two people in business attire walking into an office.

Dr. Valentina Greco reflects on how accent bias, internalized gatekeeping, and hidden prejudices shape academia—and how true change begins by confronting our own discomfort.

Getty Images, Marco VDM

How Do We Become the Gatekeepers?

“Do you have a moment?”

I turned and saw my senior colleague, Paul (not his real name), a mentor and sponsor, at my office door.

Keep ReadingShow less