(Detra Bell / Fourth Estate)

What you should keep in mind year-round

BY PHILIP WILKERSON, CONTRIBUTOR

Every February, the United States observes Black History Month. Campuses host programs, social media fills with quotes, and classrooms revisit familiar names. These moments matter, but they are not enough. Black history is not something I celebrate for 28 days. I celebrate it every month. 

I often think of history as a blanket made up of multiple threads, layered and interdependent. You cannot pull one thread without unraveling the whole. Black history is one of those foundational threads. To confine it to a single month is to misunderstand the fabric of American history itself.

Interwoven into the Black experience are the stories of women, Asian Americans, Muslim Americans, Indigenous peoples, immigrants, and countless other groups. Yet, because of the origins of the Black story in America — enslavement, exploitation, resistance and resilience — we often attempt to ignore it or push it to the margins. Doing so does not change history. It only limits our understanding of it.

Even the names we honor tell this complicated story.

George Mason, one of the authors of the Declaration of Independence and the namesake of our university, famously advocated for liberty and individual rights. Yet, he also enslaved people. 

This contradiction is not speculation. It is documented in his own words. In his Last Will and Testament, dated March 20, 1773, Mason wrote:

“I give and bequeath unto each of my four Daughters, Ann Mason, Sarah Mason, Mary Mason, and Elizabeth Mason, and to each of their heirs for ever, the following Slaves with their increase respectively from the date of this my Will. I confirm a Negro Girl named Penny to my Daughter Ann.”

How do we reconcile a man who argued for freedom while legally treating human beings as property? How do we sit with the discomfort of that truth?

The answer is difficult but necessary. This paradox is the American story: it is inseparable from the Black story in America.

George Mason University exists within that legacy, but it is also reshaping it. Our campus is contributing to history in real time. 

We have a Black president leading a major public research university. We have Black faculty and staff conducting groundbreaking research, mentoring students, and shaping national conversations. We have Black students and student leaders preparing to leave Mason and make their mark on the world.

That, too, is Black history.

History is often framed as the study of the past, something static and finished. I see it differently. History exists across the past, present, and future. The past gives us context. The present gives us responsibility. The future gives us possibility.

Understanding Black history is not about memorizing dates. It is about understanding where we come from and how that knowledge shapes how we move through the world today. 

Learning about our ancestors and their struggles, brilliance and resilience gives us strength. That strength shows up in classrooms, meeting rooms and moments when we are the only ones present.

This is why Black history matters year-round, especially at George Mason University. Mason prides itself on innovation, access and impact. But innovation without context is incomplete. Access without historical awareness risks repeating inequities.

So, this February, I offer a charge to students, faculty, staff and alumni. Engage with Black history not as something optional, but as something connected to your own story. Learn from the lives of Black leaders and everyday people whose courage shaped this university and this country.

Ask yourself how their story informs who you are today and who you hope to become tomorrow. History is not just something we study. History is something we are actively creating together every day.