Even though my people don’t have ancient traditions passed down throughout hundreds of years, I’m so proud to call myself a Black American. My people are a people of resilience, strength, talent, and untold beauty. We have overcome racial hatred and oppression and will continue to overcome any other obstacles. We are intelligent and wise. Mothers have passed unto their daughters knowledge and love. Fathers have passed unto their sons respect and pride. Black History Month is a time to celebrate my heritage, and the great predecessors who have shaped the world that I live in and that I see. It is these great ones that push me harder, not to prove, but to show my black excellence. Growing up in a world that’s beauty standards do not match my face has caused me to find the beauty within myself and those around me. From ebony to porcelain, from kinky curls to bone straight, what I know is that we come in all different shapes and colors and that Black is beautiful. This was a lesson given to me by my mother, a woman who helped integrate an all-white school in her city and dealt with incredible racial discrimination. My mother is one of many incredible Black women who have shaped history and I couldn’t be more proud of her and the history that she has helped write. She taught me that I am beautiful. And she taught me that I. Am. Enough.