by JAIME C. HARRIS AmNews Sports Editor
In the opening Days of Black History Month, there is a palpable feeling that the period of celebrating the long, arduous and rich journey of people of African descent, a celebration created by Carter G. Woodson a century ago, has become a mere superfluous tagline to far too many of our youth, irrespective of their ethnicity — but particularly Black youth.
It is critically important that the inherent lessons of Black History Month be amplified in homes, schools, places of worship and other community settings at a time this nation and countries abroad are marred by racial division and overt campaigns by right-wing extremists to eradicate historical truths and spread disinformation like a deadly virus.
As a journalist and educator, I have had the honor, pleasure and obligation of imparting to youth the knowledge and skills which have been instilled in me and nurtured by numerous men and women.
From listening to Martin Luther King Jr. speeches played on my parents’ — David and Elaine Harris — scratched records; taking trips to museums with my older brother and sister, Juanne and David; regularly visiting the now closed Liberation Book Store in Harlem with them, founded by the remarkable Una Mulzac, who passed away in 2012; and watching countless episodes of “Like It Is,” hosted by the legendary Gil Noble, who also left this physical realm in 2012 to rest in power with our ancestors, I devoured the history and culture of the African diaspora, and that of the connected global people.
Among my most memorable and indelible experiences as a young boy was being with my uncle, Howie Evans, the sports editor emeritus of this publication and a seminal figure in New York sports and journalism. Going to the Pro Rucker league at venerable Rucker Park on 155th Street, where he coached, being captivated by his accounts of friendships and interactions with among other literal and figurative giants Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Wilt Chamberlain, Miles Davis and Huey Newton, was a foundation for my ongoing and insatiable desire to pass historical narratives to youth.
When we have sports discussions and debates, I often speak of John Isaacs, a basketball pioneer and Hall of Famer, who starred for the Harlem Rens in the 1930s and 1940s, winning the first World Professional Basketball Tournament held in 1939 in Chicago. I recall stories that John, who I am blessed to have called a friend and father figure, animatedly in his deep, raspy voice, vividly painted as we would speak for hours which passed like mere minutes.
His first-hand recollections are not just about sports, but about his battles facing virulent racism as he traveled across Jim Crow America as a Black man born in Panama to a Panamanian mother and Jamaican father and raised in Harlem. I adamantly argue with my bright, opinionated young minds that Kareem Abdul-Jabbar can and should be considered the greatest basketball player ever, invoking his high school days at Power Memorial Academy, also my brother’s alma mater, UCLA and the NBA as compelling evidence of his unparalleled career. I also never fail to note his social and political activism, and profound intellect. The unwavering consensus of my teenage and 20-something crew is that either LeBron James or Michael Jordan holds the title of GOAT.
Similar exchanges, with elders serving as griots, are held everyday across the world’s expansive landscape in formal and non-traditional settings. In Canada, Ireland, the Netherlands and other countries, Black History Month is marked on the calendar. But it began here in the United States where it is incumbent on us to ensure succeeding generations build on its meaning.
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