Jackson Free Press

Before I was even 10 years old, I knew the power of unification and pride. I owned it. I knew clearly that there was a responsibility on black people who know better to educate and advocate for those who lack information or see no place for themselves in the fight for freedom, justice and equality.

Black voices mattered.

Even though many would try to keep us silent and trivialize our efforts, our feelings and our struggle, we still must fight. We must still cry out when injustice raises its head. That is the responsibility we share. I was taught where we came from, how we got here and how the future looked for us if the past was forgotten.

So today, we argue over the significance of the removal of the Confederate emblem from the Mississipi state flag. We fight about the very flag that flew in the wind as we were robbed of our heritage, of our education, of the right to vote. In Mississippi, the fact that this is still something people are willing to fight for is the very reason it must be removed.

Some people want to forget the anger wrapped in the Confederate flag. Others believe that if we give too much attention to it, it appears that we have made no progress. If we do nothing, say nothing, it'll just disappear. A few feel that even though the history isn't pleasant, it's still our history.

But I wonder how many people would trade their lives to go back to that time when all the harmful, disgusting acts that flag symbolizes were all legal, tolerated or even encouraged. Those who yell every chance they get that they "don't care about the flag" or that "the flag is not going to change anything," are holding onto the most harmful mindsets we face today. It's not the mindset of those who want the flag to remain. At least they've formed an opinion, as ill-informed as it may be.

It's those who disconnect from our history, and our ancestors, who tell the real horror story—those who can find it in their psyche to think this flag does not represent slavery and hatred, and don't care that it still lingers over us as a reminder that we have not overcome it. Those people are the ones who cause revolutions to stagnate and lose momentum. Those ideas are the ones most harmful to our history, our children and our people.

I'd challenge them to dig deeper. It would be nice if people were not so self-centered that they are unable to even fathom those who suffered before us. Nowadays, there is such a separation, and it's concerning. If we have lost the connection to our ancestors, what hope is there that we will continue this fight for justice and equality?

We must stop taking things at face value. Everyone has access to information these days, so use it. Read. Then use your heart to help direct your mind and your spirit. After doing that, if you still have no attachment to this struggle, maybe nothing will connect you to it. Throughout history, there have always been those who critiqued the revolution, the boycotts, the sit-ins, the marches from the safety of their houses, much like they do today from behind their keyboards.

The flag represents separation. As it flies, it reminds this state that black people still are not measured as equal (enough). It reminds us that it doesn't matter what black people feel about the flag. Yes, we pay taxes; we work until we die; we cry over our dead sons in the streets; we vote—but we are still black folk in Mississippi who "just need to get over it," they tell us.

Maybe it's not really our call to convince others who don't want to care or those who say it's just a flag to see that it's much more. But I simply can't imagine not having conviction. I am thankful that, at an early age, I was given enough information and exposed to enough history to have self-pride and pride in my race. It's difficult to give someone pride in their heritage. That's something that must be acquired internally. But once it's owned, it's difficult to be caught with wool over one's eyes.

There's a clarity that comes over the mind of someone who has pride. It's not OK to expect black people to feel like we are equal, then expect us to look up at a flag intended to represent all Mississippians that billowed through the wind during a time when we were treated like we were less than a human.

Funmi "Queen" Franklin Queen is a word lover, an advocate for sisterhood and the founder of HATHOR, LLC.