In Black November and beyond: let’s not leave our own behind
Jackson Almeida
By: Jackson Almeida, of Todos Pela Educação.
Sankofa. This Black November, it is worth remembering the concept originating with the Akan, peoples of West Africa, which means: “It is never too late to turn back and retrieve what was left behind.” In one variation of the translation, it is said that “it is not taboo to turn back and seek what you have forgotten.” The Sankofa symbol is a bird flying forward with its head turned backward, or it is also represented by two juxtaposed, mirrored curves, reminiscent of a heart. The Akan peoples occupy the territories known today as Côte d’Ivoire, Togo, and Ghana, and led one of the longest-lasting rebellions of enslaved people—from November 1733 to August 1734.
We need to engage with the ancestry of African peoples, from the word Sankofa to Black Awareness Month, remembering that no, it is not too late to turn back and retrieve what was left behind, what was forgotten; that we do not leave our own behind; and that, yes, we can reshape our social pyramid, working toward a country where Black people speak in the first person and build together—a new society of Black and white people, Black and Indigenous people, rich and poor. None of this would be possible without those who came before us. Here I invoke at least two names from Brazilian history: Zumbi dos Palmares, the great leader of the Quilombo dos Palmares in the 17th century and a symbol of the struggle for Black leadership in the resistance against slavery; and Dandara dos Palmares, a Black warrior and strategist, Zumbi’s wife, and also an important symbol of resistance.
In memory of the death of Zumbi dos Palmares, ambushed by Brazilian colonial troops in 1695, the National Black Consciousness Day (celebrated on November 20), became, several decades ago, a reference point for activities and reflections that inspire the struggle and resistance of Black people. This Black November—and, fortunately, increasingly beyond a single day or a specific month of the year—we are seeing greater exposure of the related challenges and reflection on how to address them: structural and institutional racism, discrimination, ethnic-racial equity, social inclusion, and the opportunities effectively offered to everyone.
The Brazilian experience has shown that expanding access for Black people, quilombola communities, and Indigenous people to the education system was insufficient to guarantee the desired ethnic-racial equity. If it is true that Brazil has more children and young people completing primary and secondary education than it did decades ago, it is also true that, when we look at dropout and learning data, we see that Black, quilombola, and Indigenous people are still far behind. If it is true that we have adopted Education as a universal public policy, it is also true that we are still far from promoting historical reparation. A concrete example of this is the difficulty in complying with Federal Law 10,639/2003, which establishes the mandatory teaching of “Afro-Brazilian history and culture” as part of the curriculum. If it is true that we have changed the school curriculum toward greater Black visibility, it is also true that, to a great extent, we still disregard centuries of extermination, the erasure of Indigenous peoples, and recent equity and inclusion initiatives.
The memory of African peoples, one of the foundations on which Brazilian identity was built, as well as that of Zumbi, Dandara, Maria Quitéria, Luiz Gama and so many others who fought for respect, dignity, and equality, inspire us and reinforce the evidence of how much remains to be done. As the study by Todos Pela Educação showed, the number of Black and brown Brazilians enrolled in secondary education is a decade behind the number of white students. Or, as another study by Todos revealed, only half of Brazil’s public schools have projects to combat racism—the lowest percentage in ten years. This is in a country where more than half of the population is Black, according to the IBGE (Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics).
In the document we published on ethnic-racial equity in Education, as part of the “Educação Já” initiative, we highlighted three levers that identify strategic areas in which the potential to transform the current scenario would be greatest: access and representation with proportionality, respect, and dignity; Indigenous, Black, and quilombola people who are conscious, and critical white people; and educational policies for education on ethnic-racial relations and the strengthening of identity.
These levers will enable Black, Indigenous, and quilombola voices to be elevated through greater representation in leadership positions; raise the level of understanding of ethnic-racial issues so that people who are victims of racism are conscious of their identity, ancestry, and their stance against structural racism—still present in our country—and so that white people can play their role in transforming this reality; and, finally, promote the effective implementation of educational policies that value Black, Indigenous, and quilombola identities, increasing the legitimacy of these underrepresented groups within the education system.
May this Black November be a call to reflection and also to action. Turning back and retrieving what was left behind—this historical reparation—is the guiding principle. Education is the means.
Jackson Almeida is a Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Analyst at Todos Pela Educação. He holds a degree in Business Administration and specializes in Organizational Planning and Management.
