GTCHS Black History Celebration Book - Love our History

Reflection

“Love yourself.” “Love your neighbor.” “Love one another.” “Love You.” We say these words
often without thought or as a reflex.
Yet the greatest act we can do is Love.
Love is patient. Love is kind. Love does not envy.
Love is an action word that requires active participation and endurance.
“Love Our History” is the theme chosen by Autumn Channer, Amy Jordan and Taylor Law-
rence for this year’s Black History Celebration. Our students shared this simple yet pro-
found revelation.
In order to truly love we must accept the whole person; this doesn’t mean we have to like
or approve everything the other person says or does. It means that we see them for who
they are, acknowledging their contributions and respecting them for who they are be-
coming.
It is very simple. Black History is not only American History, but World History. This
month serves as a reminder and celebration of the accomplishments and contributions
that people of African descent have made throughout the ages and continue to make
today.
We all ask that we are truly seen, acknowledged, respected, and to have our images
reflected as in a mirror. We all ask to be loved and have all that love encompasses.

Cynthia D. Fryer

Cynthia D. Fryer, MA
Black History Committee Advisor

Our Speaker

Chris Singleton is a former minor league baseball player drafted by the Chicago Cubs. He be-
came a nationally-renowned speaker with a message of resilience, forgiveness and unity fol-
lowing the loss of his mother in the 2015 Mother Emanuel Church Tragedy in Charleston, SC.
Chris now shares his message with over 60 organizations annually and his clients include:
Boeing, The Houston Texans, Microsoft, Biogen, Volvo, The Washington Wizards and over
100,000 students and educators across the world. One of his children's books, Different – A
Story About Loving Your Neighbor, was a best seller in its category and has been featured by
numerous outlets, including The Obama Foundation.
Chris' overall mission when speaking is to inspire his audiences with his story of resilience and
to unite millions of people with his belief that "Love is Stronger Than Hate."

GTCHS Black History Program

Thursday, February 24, 2022

Mistress of Ceremonies……………………....Amy Jordan (‘22)
Welcome/Recognitions……………………….Amy Jordan (‘22)
Performance……………………………….…….“Uncut” Step Team
Poem……………………………….…...Quentyneshia Milton (‘23)
”Lift Every Voice & Sing”……………...……….….GTCHS Chorus
Reading of the Names
of Remembrance…………………………....Stephen Sartor (‘22)
Poem………………………………………….Autumn Channer (‘22)
Introduction of Speaker……………………...Jemel Lopez (‘23)
Speaker…………………………………………………Chris Singleton
Word of Thanks…………………………………..Amy Jordan (‘22)
Closing Remarks………………………………Mary Nell Anthony

Principal

Lift Every Voice & Sing

By James Weldon Johnson

Lift every voice and sing
Till earth and Heaven ring
Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;

Let our rejoicing rise,
High as The list'ning skies,
let it resound loud as the Rolling sea

Sing a song
full of faith that the Dark past has taught us,

Sing a song
full of The hope that the present has brought Us;

Facing the rising sun
of our new day Begun,
Let us march on till victory is Won.

Stony the road we trod,
Bitter the Chast'ning rod,
Felt in the day that hope

Unborn had died;
Yet with a steady Beat,
Have not our weary feet,
Come to the Place on which our fathers sighed?

We have Come
over a way that with tears has been Watered,

We have come,
treading our path Through the blood of the slaughtered,

Out from The gloomy past,
till now we stand at Last
Where the white gleam
of our star is Cast.

God of our weary years,
God of Our silent tears,
Thou who has brought us thus

Far on the way;
Thou who has by thy Might,

Led us into the light,
Keep us Forever in the path, we pray

Lest our feet
Stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee,

Least our hearts,
drunk with the wine of The world, we forget thee,

Shadowed beneath the Hand,
May we forever stand,
True to our God,
True to our native land

The Vision of Black Excellence
Acrylic on canvas - January 2022
By Sukira Duck

Ego Tripping (there may be a reason why)

by Nikki Giovanni

I was born in the congo I sailed west to reach east and had to round off
I walked to the fertile crescent and built the earth as I went
the sphinx The hair from my head thinned and gold was laid
I designed a pyramid so tough that a star across three continents
that only glows every one hundred years falls
into the center giving divine perfect light I am so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal
I am bad I cannot be comprehended except by my permission

I sat on the throne I mean...I...can fly
drinking nectar with allah like a bird in the sky...
I got hot and sent an ice age to europe
to cool my thirst
My oldest daughter is nefertiti
the tears from my birth pains
created the nile
I am a beautiful woman

I gazed on the forest and burned
out the sahara desert
with a packet of goat's meat
and a change of clothes
I crossed it in two hours
I am a gazelle so swift
so swift you can't catch me

For a birthday present when he was three
I gave my son hannibal an elephant
He gave me rome for mother's day
My strength flows ever on

My son noah built new/ark and
I stood proudly at the helm
as we sailed on a soft summer day
I turned myself into myself and was
jesus
men intone my loving name
All praises All praises

I am the one who would save

I sowed diamonds in my back yard
My bowels deliver uranium
the filings from my fingernails are
semi-precious jewels
On a trip north
I caught a cold and blew
My nose giving oil to the arab world
I am so hip even my errors are correct

Black Elegance
Digital Medium - January 2022
By Amy Jordan
“..black women are similar to a lioness. (A) Lioness … is
strong and elegant.

The Sun

by Amy Jordan

Mary Ann could not remember the last time she saw the sun. During her childhood her mother always
kept her inside. Her mother left for long periods of time and would come back during the late hours of the night.
Her body would be bloodied with red marks and her skin would be a dark brown. Mary Ann asked her mother
why she looked so beaten. She wanted to know why every time her mother went outside it would result in her
hurt. Her mother, as always, replied in a simple sentence. “The outside is dangerous. Please, my dear, work and
study hard,” she would say. Mary Ann did not have a clue of what those words meant. However, it ended in Mary
Ann never questioning what her mother meant. Over the years, her mother would bring her books. The books
would be old, and the covers were always tattered. Those books were filled with information. Most of the infor-
mation was based on the earth, sun, moon, and the basics of how the environment worked. This was something
that interested Mary Ann and she always was excited to read about it. Mary Ann wanted to know what the sun
looked like, how it felt, and its beauty. Mary Ann’s mother always told her to study the books each night. Mary Ann
stayed up many nights and studied until she got dizzy. She wanted to make her mother proud. She knew that the
more she excelled, it would bring a smile to her mother’s face.

As she grew closer to the age of 14, she began to smell gunpowder while she was studying. Her nose
burned and made her want to have a fit of coughs. She did not know what direction it came from. However, she
knew it was on the other side of the door. The door that led to the “outside.” She wanted to know where the smell
came from, but she was most interested in seeing the sun. She made the decision to see it for herself. She knew
that her mother would bicker with her, but her curiosity was eating at her. Mary Ann started to make her way to
the door, her small body pushing off the dirtied blanket that she called her bed. She did not need to walk far. The
room was small and screamed with old age. It was always damp and dark in the room. The only form of light was
a small match in a glass vase. She reached out her small, skinny hand. She could feel her head spinning and her
heart racing. She turned the handle of the door, and it opened with a creak.

In front of her was a hallway. Door after door could be seen from both ends. She looked around the area in
pure confusion. That is when she heard the heavy thumping of feet. It was loud and made her body shake. She
closed her eyes and covered her ears. She then felt warm arms and smelled the familiar cotton scent of her moth-
er. She looked up and felt her words get stuck in her throat. Her mother had blood dripping from her head and her
lips were busted. Her mother’s breathing was sporadic, and she could feel her mother’s grip tighten on her body.
Mary Ann was scared. That was the only word she could find to describe what she felt. Her mother picked up

Mary Ann and started to run down the hallway. Mary Ann buried her head in her mother’s neck as she started to
hear many voices and gunshots. “You better find them all!”; “Get down you Dog!.” “Every negro will be caught. Ei-
ther dead or alive,” were some of the many voices she heard. After a few moments, she could hear her mother
slamming a door open. The air around her seemed to change. She felt something hot on her body. She could only
relate this warmth to when her mother hugged her during the cold nights. Before Mary Ann could finish her
thoughts, she felt herself get thrown off and her small body slammed onto the ground. Gun shots could be heard
and the screaming of women. Mary Ann laid on the ground as she was too scared and in pain to move. She then
slowly opened her eyes and felt the slow movements of her tears down her cheeks. Her mother lay a few feet from
her. Her body was face down and blood could be seen pouring from her back. Mary Ann just stared. She did not
know what to feel or to express in this moment. She directed her vision upwards. She could still feel the bruises
and scrapes on her body. The noise around her was muffled except for a constant ringing. The sun was all she
could see. It was hot and burned an angry yellow. “.... It is so pretty...You were just as pretty as I last remem-
bered...” Mary Ann said. Her vision was blocked as she saw someone stand over her. Their hands were muddied
with blood, and they were handling an object that was not familiar to her. Her brown eyes squinting as she heard
the sound of a gunshot, her vision blurring white, and her face burning with the heat that was similar to the sun.

Acrylic on Canvas - January 2022
By Marion Benson

George Washington Carver - January 2022
Medium—Unknown
By John Ethan Wilkinson

I’m black (?)

By Quentyneshia Milton

Today I meant to tell you what being black is like.. so um..
hi i’m black
or at least i think i am
see i was told i was black by people who don’t look like me
talk like me
walk like me
but claim to know that i am black, not by many merits but simply because of the color of
my skin
hi i’m not black enough
or at least i think i am
see i was told this by people who look like me but shun me because i don’t fit into their
Herit of the merit of what black should be.
don’t fight enough
don’t slur my words
but IS that black?
does that make you more black than i am because i don’t do that?
black to me is getting told I’m exceptional and having nothing to show for it
people do half the work and get twice the privileges
i get no privileges but do twice the work
i’m forced to sit back and watch people who don’t look like me get accepted…
so sometimes i chalk it up to it being because they aren’t me.
Hi, I am Quentyneshia Asianna Monique Milton.
I am an actress working towards my goal of making you stop a second and think of me.
A student trying to prove something to a demographic of people who were raised to plot
against me, to prove to them that I’m more than enough
a daughter
a sister
a friend
and there are so many more people
black people
out there screaming to be noticed not because they’re gonna parade around for you like
how you think they should but because they are unapologetically themselves
(inhale, sigh) Hi, I am black, nice to meet you

Digital Medium — January 2022

By Rosalyn Marte

“...the scene I’ve portrayed is a cozy night of hair braiding
and casual evening ambiance in an Afro-Latina household
incorporating elements from the culture which is part of
my culture…”

Black Queen

by Autumn Channer

Take five seconds and look in front of you They want us to feel unloved, unimportant, and out-
What you see standing here is a Black Queen numbered
But stop
And as I stand before you
I am going to cause a scene Take five seconds and listen
They try to get us to react
Cause my melanated skin shines like gold
It represents the generational riches and royalty that I But on behalf of my Generational Mothers
hold And the Black Queens you see now

I come from Queens of the Earth We just too royal for that

Generational Mothers of creation

You can call black women Eve

Because yes, we can give birth to a nation

Yes, my black roots run so deep

Deeper than the servile slaves my progenitors were
forced to be

Black women taken from their kingdoms

Black women stripped of their crowns

Black women disrespected and mistreated

People are constantly putting us down

“Down with black women!”

As if we aren’t sticking around

They beat us down

And stomp our confidence in the ground

They criticize our style as if it’s not what everyone
wants

They disrespect the presence we carry

They even make ignorant insults about our crowns

We stand up straight and keep our composure

‘Cause Miss ma’am,

Black Queens never bow down

They’re lowkey pressed and distressed

Because of our greatness

They try to do everything to make us hate our blackness

And turn against our fellow Black Queens

Black Queen - January 2022
Acrylic on Canvas
Autumn Channer

Maybe

by Autumn Channer

Many years have my people been chained and forced into hard labor of service to their
oppressors
But now too many black bodies are incarcerated
In a cruel system of injustice and violence against their complexion
Many black men are beaten and murdered by prejudiced police officers
While amber alerts are silent when another black girl disappears and everyone is unsure
of where she has gone
Why must my people live in a world that we were brought into filled with people that
wanted to take us out?
Life doesn't have to be this way
Maybe we can all live in peace and everyone respects each other's culture
Maybe I can write profound stories and poems filled with metaphors like Maya Angelou
and Toni Morrison
Maybe I can help the people in my country like President Barack Obama
Maybe I can lead my people to the freedom they deserve like Harriet Tubman and Nanny
of the Maroons
Maybe I can be the best soldier Haile Selassie ever lead like Bob Marley and sing my
justice
Maybe I can bring light to the world like Lewis Latimer
Maybe I can become one of the strongest feminist for women of color like Ida B. Wells
Maybe I can give empowering speeches like Martin Luther King Jr, Marcus Garvey,
Malcom X
Maybe I can be an entrepreneur slash philanthropist slash social activist slash business
woman who makes hair care products for kinky hair like Madame CJ Walker
Maybe I can be a major general of the Union and serve 5 years in Congress like
Robert Smalls
Maybe I can say "No" like Rosa Parks
Maybe I can speak with eloquence and sophistication without being told to
act my complexion
Maybe I can raise my hands to the Lord and scream "All Lives Matter" without being shot
down by devils
We can't succeed because our oppressors say we can't
But maybe if we all stood together in unison, fought for each other,
And loved one another
We can succeed

Flower Woman— Unknown
Print of Acrylic Painting
By Emma Wilkinson

Air Dried Clay Planter - January 2022
By Autumn Channer

Black History Committee Uncut Step Team

Advisors - Cynthia Fryer & Advisor - Shaniqua Johnson-
Shaniqua Johnson-Woodberry Woodberry
Parent Advisors - Paula Lawrence & Sukira Duck
Zoie Harris
Kesha Williams
Autumn Channer Taylor Lawrence
Seanna Medlin
Olivia Clark Taylor Simon
Sukira Duck Cassandra Smith
Cinaya Frazier Zion Williams
Zoie Harris
Amy Jordan GTCHS Board of Directors
Mercedes King
Taylor Lawrence Rev. Dr. Zackary Johnson - Chairman
Jemel Lopez Chris Loewer - Vice Chairman
Maris McKinley Erik Knutson - Treasurer
Seanna Medlin Uta Samuel - Secretary
Tyana Roper Mary Brantley
Zakari Smith Bob Ground
Jordan Staples-Bias Jennifer Medlock
Jayda Sullivan John Molloy
Samira Wideman Chandra Snyder
Zion Williams Lasonia Williams

Special Thanks

Taylor Lawrence for designing the logo for the T-shirts , banners and yard signage.
Our parent volunteers, Mrs. Paula Lawrence & Mrs. Kesha Williams.

The students, faculty, staff, administration & parents & friends of GTCHS