Destined for Greatness : A Historical Reflection
How did my background shape my interest?
For me , history is more than just a record of the past ; it is a living force that shapes identities, communities, and futures. My decision to minor in history at Prairie View A&M University is deeply rooted in my lived experiences growing up in South Park, Texas, a historically Black community that has been shaped and scarred by the effects of gentrification and systemic neglect. I have witnessed firsthand how history can be erased when minority communities are targeted for “revitalization,” only to be displaced and forgotten.Growing up in a low-income neighborhood, I saw how the very spaces that made up the foundation of my childhood began to disappear. The corner stores where we ran errands for our elders, the parks where families gathered for cookouts, and the schools that once molded young minds, all of these spaces were either abandoned, repurposed, or demolished. The Black-owned businesses that once kept our neighborhood thriving were forced to shut down, suffocating the sense of community that had long existed there. Without these familiar places, the identity of South Park faded, and it became clear that history wasn’t just something written in books—it was something happening in real time, often without the voices of those most affected.Can you imagine how heartbreaking it is to watch the world around you lose its color right before your eyes? The places that shaped my childhood, the businesses, the schools, the community centers were more than just physical locations. They were symbols of Black resilience, spaces where culture thrived, and where we saw reflections of ourselves. Once these spaces started vanishing, I watched my peers struggle to find purpose. The uncertainty and displacement created a feeling of hopelessness, and rage became the new normal. It was as if the heart of our community had been torn away, leaving behind an empty shell.This experience made me realize that history isn’t just about the past; it’s about what we choose to remember and protect. As a student at PVAMU, I recognize the privilege of studying at an institution with a legacy of Black excellence and social justice. My education has given me the tools to understand not only the patterns of history but also how those patterns continue to repeat themselves. It has also ignited a fire in me, a determination to fight for communities like mine that have been silenced and overlooked. As a history minor and future public historian, I plan to use my education to document and amplify the stories of neighborhoods like South Park, ensuring that their history isn’t erased. I want to work toward policies that prevent cultural erasure, focusing not just on preserving historic buildings, but on protecting the people and communities that give them meaning. My background has given me a deep understanding of how history and power intersect, and I intend to use that knowledge to fight for communities that have been ignored, exploited, and displaced for far too long.
The Significance of Gentrification and Systematic Neglect
Gentrification is often framed as progress, but for communities like mine, it has felt more like erasure. Family-owned businesses that had been around for generations started closing, unable to keep up with rising rents. Families who had lived in the area for decades were forced to move as property values skyrocketed, driven by new developments that catered to outsiders’ needs rather than the people who had built and sustained the community for years. The neighborhood that once felt so familiar and safe became unrecognizable. However, even before gentrification took full effect, South Park was already suffering under the weight of systemic neglect. Schools were underfunded, public spaces fell into disrepair, and access to quality healthcare and fresh food was limited. Instead of investing in our community, it felt as though the city let it deteriorate on purpose. Almost as if they were waiting for the right moment to sell it off piece by piece. The pothole-ridden streets, the libraries lacking updated materials, and the scarcity of job opportunities were not coincidences. These were signs of intentional neglect, a pattern I later recognized in many other historically Black neighborhoods across the country.I remember seeing our elders, known pillars of the community, plead repeatedly for better resources, only to be ignored. They fought to preserve what little we had, yet their voices were drowned while their homes were cleared out to make way for expensive developments that were never meant for us. When money and investment finally did arrive, it wasn’t to rebuild our schools or restore our cultural landmarks, it was to construct new housing complexes and trendy businesses designed to attract a different demographic. It became painfully clear that our community wasn’t deemed worthy of investment until it was time for someone else to profit from it.It is no coincidence that historically Black neighborhoods like South Park face these struggles. The forced displacement of Black communities is part of a larger, invisible plot that has been repeated throughout history, from the destruction of thriving Black business districts, such as Tulsa’s Greenwood District, to the redlining policies that denied Black families the opportunity to build generational wealth. These systemic tactics are not accidental; they are deliberate efforts to weaken Black economic and cultural power. The consequences are devastating: families are torn apart, businesses vanish, and the sense of unity that once defined a neighborhood is replaced by isolation and loss.
How History Helps Me Understand the World Differently
Studying history has allowed me to see these patterns more clearly. Being an African American history minor at PVAMU has given me the language and framework to articulate the injustices I’ve witnessed firsthand. More importantly, it has given me a sense of purpose. I now understand that preserving history is not just about documenting the past, but also about resisting erasure and ensuring that our stories remain visible.My background has shaped the way I see history. It has shown me that history isn’t always written by those who lived it, and that narratives can be manipulated to serve the interests of those in power. But it has also shown me that history can be a tool for change. By reclaiming our stories and preserving our cultural landmarks, we can fight back against the forces that seek to erase us.