By Shamecca Brown, Columnist, GSNC Freelancer

“Ma, why do I only see things that mention Black people in February?” my son asked. Movies with Black characters were popping up on Amazon Prime and Netflix–Roots caught his attention. My son, the youngest of my four kids, is 12. He’s so laid back but notices and pays attention to everything around him. I told him the truth: Schools, workplaces, and society at large still treat Black history as a seasonal event rather than the foundation of American history. And now, with Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) programs being rolled back, it’s clear that some people would rather erase progress than embrace it.

I grew up in neighborhoods of New York City where diversity, equity and inclusion were the norm. But when I moved to New Hampshire as a 28-year old single mom with a 12-year-old son and 5-year-old daughter, my family faced challenges that underscored the pervasive nature of racial ignorance.

Shortly after we arrived, a peer called my son the N-word. In response, my son invited the child to discuss the matter outside, seeking resolution. The school perceived my son’s actions as threatening and involved the police. Despite my requests for a meeting, the school failed to address the racial slur directed at my son. This incident revealed a profound lack of cultural competence and an urgent need for comprehensive DEI training within the educational system. Fourteen years later, I’ve never seen that happen.

My son’s experience reminded me of when I was in eighth grade, learning the harrowing story of Emmett Till. The discussions were intense, and the emotional weight was palpable among my peers. During one such conversation, I voiced a sentiment that had been brewing within me: “We’re the most hated race.” Instead of engaging in a meaningful dialogue, my teacher asked me to leave the classroom, labeling me a distraction. This reaction was telling. It highlighted an unwillingness to confront the uncomfortable truths about racism.

DEI is more than a buzzword; it’s a daily practice. I celebrate everyone’s unique background and ensure that each person has a fair chance to contribute. I know not everyone starts at the same place, so I work to level the playing field through mentorship, advocacy and simply listening. Creating a space where every voice is valued and respected is what makes me show up at work. I do so with the goal of challenging inequities and fostering an environment where everyone truly belongs. DEI work isn’t on my check list–it is how I live and work every day.

This work isn’t easy. It’s uncomfortable. For white people, it takes vulnerability and a willingness to be an active ally. For Black people these topics can hit hard, stirring up emotions and overwhelming feelings, especially when you feel like you’re constantly having to explain what should be obvious. I’ve cried at more than one DEI training. Despite the discomfort, these tough conversations are needed. They matter—especially in schools, where kids need to learn both history and the importance of diversity, equity and inclusion.

Today, the landscape of DEI is shifting, and not in a good way. What once felt like progress is now under attack.. Let's talk real. This new executive order that’s tryna ban teaching about race in schools? It’s a big problem for our kids. By shutting down conversations about race, we’re keeping children in the dark about our country’s real history and the different stories that make it up. This kinda ignorance? It just keeps stereotypes alive and kickin’, ‘cause our kids won’t learn about the struggles and contributions of different racial groups.

Plus, when schools act like certain histories don’t matter, it sends a messed-up message to minority kids. It’s like saying their stories ain’t worth telling, which can make them feel left out and lower their self-esteem. Schools should be places where every kid feels seen and respected.

DEI programs are crucial. They help kids from all backgrounds understand and respect each other. But now, with moves to cut these programs, with federal agencies pulling DEI guidance from their websites and canceling staff training, we’re taking steps backward. This ain’t just about schools; it’s about creating a society where everyone gets a fair shot.

Bottom line? Keeping race out of the classroom doesn’t just mess with our kids’ learning: it stops them from growing into open-minded adults ready to thrive in our diverse world. We gotta stand up for an education that tells the whole story, so our kids are ready for whatever comes their way.

Writing about this, speaking about this makes me more curious, but also more cautious. Because the truth is, every time we push for change, there’s pushback. But if we let fear silence us, nothing changes at all.

I didn’t just sit with the shock of racism I encountered in New Hampshire. I educated myself. I sought out Black organizations and connected with people who truly care about creating spaces for people of color, for different genders, for those struggling with socioeconomic barriers. I found my community, even in a place where it wasn’t easily visible.

In New York City I was nurtured in a city defined by its diversity. I was fortunate to experience an educational environment where Black history was an integral part of the curriculum. Schools actively taught it, and our elders enriched our understanding by sharing personal stories of their experiences, especially given my family’s roots in Birmingham, Alabama, and various parts of North Carolina. They instilled in us the importance of respect, a value I now pass down to my children.

Raising my children in a predominantly white state requires a more proactive approach. When people express curiosity about my kids’ hair or skin, I’ve taught them to assertively communicate boundaries, emphasizing that while questions are acceptable, unsolicited touching is not. It’s crucial they understand their right to stand up against derogatory language, such as the N-word, and not allow anyone to demean them.

These experiences have reinforced my commitment to educating my children about their rights and the importance of self-advocacy. While we can’t change everyone’s mindset, we can empower ourselves and our children to stand up against injustice and demand the respect every human being deserves.

I’ve learned that no matter where I go, the work doesn’t stop. Whether it’s Black history, DEI, or basic human rights, it’s not about waiting for change, it's about making it happen. I will continue to work toward that.

Columnist Shamecca Brown, a proud New Yorker, is family-oriented and passionate about serving underserved communities.

These articles are being shared by partners in the Granite State News Collaborative. For more information, visit collaborativenh.org.