By: Roy Douglas Malonson
In classrooms across America, a quiet war is raging—a battle not fought with weapons, but with erasers, red pens, and legislative bills. They call it “progress,” “curriculum reform,” and “education standards.” We call it what it is: erasure. Erasure of Black history. Erasure of truth. Erasure of the strug- gles and contributions of generations who built this country with blood, brilliance, and perseverance.
Across multiple states, newly passed laws are restricting the teaching of topics deemed “divisive,” “uncomfortable,” or “politically motivated.” In effect, these measures target discussions about systemic racism, the civil rights movement, slavery, Reconstruction, Jim Crow, and modern racial justice movements. Educators are being silenced, textbooks are being sanitized, and students are being robbed of the full truth of America’s past and present.
The erasure is not accidental. It is strategic. By controlling what future generations learn, the architects of these policies hope to control what future generations believe. If young people are not taught about the horrors of slavery, the resilience of the civil rights movement, or the ongoing fight against systemic racism, how can they recognize—and resist—similar injustices today? In states like Florida, Texas, and Tennessee, sweeping bans have been implemented under the banner of “parental rights” and “curriculum transparency.” Entire lesson plans have been gutted. Teachers are being advised to tread carefully or risk their jobs. Some are even warned not to mention terms like “white privilege” or “racial inequality” for fear of political backlash. The attack on Black history extends beyond the classroom. It is reinforced in public discourse, where politicians dismiss concerns as “woke hysteria,” and where school board meetings have become battlegrounds filled with shouting matches over what our children should be allowed to know. But when politicians sanitize the past, it is not for the sake of the children—it is for the protection of the powerful.
The stakes are too high for silence. Black history is American history. From the slave ships to the cotton fields, from Harlem to Montgomery, from the Voting Rights Act to Black Lives Matter, the story of Black America is the story of America itself. To suppress it is to deny the soul of this nation.
Our ancestors did not endure chains, whips, water hoses, bomb threats, and burning crosses so their descendants could be taught lies or half-truths. They fought for freedom—not just physical freedom, but freedom of thought, freedom of identity, freedom of knowledge. We dishonor their sacrifices when we allow their stories to be erased.
Students of all backgrounds deserve an honest education. They deserve to learn about the brilliance of figures like Ida B. Wells, Carter G. Woodson,
