Huffpost Books   Jesmyn Ward Headshot  What Black History Month
Means To Me  Posted: Updated: Getty Images Getty Images  The
small private Mississippi high school I attended never
celebrated Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s holiday. For years, I
was the only Black girl in the entire school, and even when
there were 2 of us, and around 5 Black boys, it still wasn't a
priority in a school of a little over a 100, where nearly
everyone was white and moneyed.  We had Christmas, Thanksgiving,
New Year's and summer break off, and even President's Day, but
nothing for Dr. King.  My mother, however, did not care whether
the school was in session. Every King day, she kept me home, and
I invariably spent the day running through the woods near my
house or if the weather was bad, sitting under our trailer or
under the trees with my brother and sisters, who attended the
local public school and were always off for the holiday.
Sometimes, we listened to a radio, and I remember feeling a kind
of tremulous pride when the local bla