
Lately, it feels like we're witnessing a slow but deliberate erasure—a quiet rollback of progress. Across the country, books by African American authors are being pulled from shelves. Names of Black pioneers are being stripped from buildings. And the question we must ask—loudly and unapologetically—is: Why?

π The Attack on African American Literature
Book bans are nothing new, but the recent wave has been different. This time, the focus seems clear: silence marginalized voices, especially Black ones.
Books about slavery, civil rights, racism, and Black identity are being labeled as “divisive” or “inappropriate.” But let’s call it what it is: censorship rooted in fear of truth.
Whether it’s The 1619 Project, Stamped, or novels that showcase Black joy and pain, these stories are being removed not because they harm children—but because they challenge a sanitized version of history that makes some people uncomfortable.
And yet, isn’t discomfort part of growth?
When you silence stories, you erase humanity. When you ban books, you block bridges to understanding.
ποΈ The Quiet Removal of Black Names

Credit: AFRO Photo/Ariyana Griffin
Beyond literature, there's a less visible but equally troubling trend: the removal or resistance to naming public spaces after African American changemakers. While we often celebrate the installation of Black names on buildings, schools, or streets, those honors are increasingly being challenged—or quietly reversed.
Some institutions claim “neutrality” or “historical balance.” But let’s be honest: neutrality often serves the status quo, which historically has not favored us.
It’s disheartening to watch names that represent struggle, resilience, and excellence be treated as controversial, while those tied to oppression and inequality are left untouched.
π¨ What’s Really Going On?
This isn’t just about books or names. It’s about power. It’s about who gets to tell the story—and who gets erased from it.
We’re living in a time when truth is under attack. When inclusion is framed as indoctrination. And when Black stories are being policed with the same intensity as Black bodies.
But here's the truth: we see what’s happening. And we will not be silent.
π‘ What We Can Do
Support Black authors and bookstores. Buy their books. Share their stories. Teach your children the truth they may not learn in school.
Speak up at school board meetings and libraries. Advocate for inclusive literature and resist censorship.
Celebrate and protect Black history—every day. Not just in February. Not just when it’s trending.
Hold institutions accountable. If a name is removed, ask why. If it’s not there to begin with, ask why not.
βπΎ Our Stories Matter

Our history, our contributions, our voices—they matter. And we will keep writing, keep speaking, and keep building, even when the system tries to erase us.
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