By Bob Woodson
July 4, 1776, will always be a date remembered as a time when a divided American people, living in different states, with differing interests, came together for a grand cause: the fight for rights, independence and liberty.
There is so much value in looking back on this time in history. It reminds us of the deep reservoir of virtue we once exhibited, and still have. Our inexperienced American military had limited supplies and funding and was forced to rely on their spirit of self-determination and will to achieve this liberty against all odds. Great Britain — the world’s largest empire — retreated.
This same resilient spirit of 1776 that our country showed against Great Britain can be found in the countless historical examples of Black Americans after slavery, fighting to reunite their families, learning to read, and building businesses, churches and thriving communities, even in the age of Jim Crow.
In spite of all the accomplishments we have achieved against the backdrop of the most adverse conditions, millions of Americans still assume it to be true that Blacks are naturally incapable of performing up to the same standards as whites. Ironically, this is exactly the same argument that many advocates for “equity” espouse today. But historically, this was not how Black Americans secured their liberty, nor how they advocated for equality in the eyes of the law.
Black men and women over the decades have refused to be defined by the opinions of their oppressors, and fought back with superior performance. And it was their witness, as much as anything else, that compelled America to live up to its own ideals.
There is a wealth of knowledge to be gained from these extraordinary examples from our past. Consider the lesser-known story of the U.S. Navy’s first Black commissioned officers. This remarkable group of men would come to be known as the “Golden 13.”
Until 1941, Blacks in the Navy were barred from becoming commissioned officers. After the ban was lifted, the Navy reluctantly allowed a group of 16 men to start the officer training course. To set them up for failure, they were forced to complete a 16-week training program in just eight weeks. They worked with outdated equipment, or without equipment at all. They were provoked — and carefully observed — by the white Naval staff they encountered.
But instead of complaining, the men studied together constantly, even during the times they were supposed to be sleeping, using only a flashlight. When it came time for graduation, their scores were so high on the first round of exams that incredulous superiors forced them to retake the exam. They scored even higher the second time.
Assertions about their inferiority were countered not with arguments or complaints, but with performance.
All 16 men passed the course, but only 12 were commissioned as officers and a 13th was promoted to chief warrant officer. The Golden 13 were never allowed to lead men into battle. They were not provided on-base housing. But their grit, determination and success led the way for future Black naval officers, and broader desegregation of the armed forces.
The Golden 13 didn’t allow themselves to be defined by obstacles they faced, or by injustices they suffered. Those facing oppression can either acquiesce to it or use it to propel themselves to excellence. These 13 men chose excellence.
Importantly, they also chose to serve their nation. They vindicated their faith in the American vision of liberty, dignity and justice. And we can learn from them today, whatever our creed or race might be.
These men responded to abuse and oppression not with bitterness, recrimination or demands for retribution, but with moral virtue and superior conduct. America is a country of redemption, and it stands forever in need of men and women who will light its way forward.
Black Americans’ fight against racial injustice is not about leveling the playing field or evening the score. It is part of our function as the nation’s conscience. It is about calling America to be the best that it can be, about demanding the nation remember its Founding promise.
July 4 isn’t a day for bitterness or anger; nor is it a day for naive triumphalism. It is a day to celebrate our nation’s Founding hope, to honor the men and women who’ve fought to defend its noblest principles, even at great cost to themselves. It is a day to celebrate what we have overcome, as much as what we have been given.
Bob Woodson is the founder and president of The Woodson Center and the author of “Red, White, and Black: Rescuing American History from Revisionists and Race Hustlers.”