I never liked these special months. I've thought the way to deal with past injustice is to just move on and I pretty much agree with what Freeman said.
But then I had an unexpected change of heart.
Our family has always had a few other families that I've considered our political and philosophical allies, we understand each other. Even if it's one brief encounter at some company function, I feel a connection to the kids of these partners.
Except yesterday when I saw one such kid's Twitter feed.
His clan has more money than ours, but they have a similar background to my family — they're also loggers since way back. Despite being of similar breeding, he's taken a totally different path than me.
This guy has turned his back on the logging industry, he's pursuing a business that has nothing to do with his past, which is fine.
However, he's part of that insufferable breed of green-washing entrepreneurs whose faux-chill vibes about working together and breathing deeply make me want to grow huge hands and personally strip mine a national park.
I keep thinking, "what have you done? - you dishonour the family. We've always done the dirty work, but now you're tying yourself to a tree with the rest of the enemy. Sellout!"
Suddenly Black History Month makes sense to me.
The degree of the offense has no bearing here. I understand my fleeting scowl has far less than nothing on the story of blacks in North America.
But I got a glimpse, however trivial, into what it means to fight for your identity. To hold on to the events that shaped you, whether as a person or as a race. Sometimes these views can become irrational, but we all need to identify with something, even if it doesn't totally makes sense.