All Historians Generalize From Particulars. And Often,

If America Has A Civic Religion, The First Amendment Is Its Central Article Of Faith.

So, The Kind Of Precious Memories About Being Black For My Generation Won't Exist For My Kids' And Grandkids' Generations Unless We Preserve Them Through Fiction, Through Film, Through Comic Books, And Every Other Form Of Media We Can Possibly Utilize To Perpetuate The Story Of The Great African-american People.

In 1957, When I Was In Second Grade, Black Children Integrated Central High School In Little Rock, Arkansas. We Watched It On Tv. All Of Us Watched It. I Don't Mean Mama And Daddy And Rocky. I Mean All The Colored People In America Watched It, Together, With One Set Of Eyes.

For As Long As I Can Remember, I Have Been Passionately Intrigued By 'africa,' By The Word Itself, By Its Flora And Fauna, Its Topographical Diversity And Grandeur; But Above All Else, By The Sheer Variety Of The Colors Of Its People, From Tan And Sepia To Jet And Ebony.

The Western Stereotype Of Africa And Its Black Citizens As Devoid Of Reason And, Therefore, Subhuman Was Often Shared By White Master And Black Ex-slave Alike.