4 February 2016
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As an African-American, I choose to study the history of ethnic background. I do this throughout the year but even more so during the month of February. Why? Because this month has been titled Black History month. I find it odd that we do not have a Caucasian History Month or a Hispanic History Month etc…. Well I do understand why there is not a Caucasian History Month. Since I can remember being taught history it has always contained Caucasian History. In my experiences it is a rarity to learn the history of a minority group and what individuals from this particular group did to make America a better place. History would have you believe that the only individuals with a history of purpose have been Caucasians.   In my household we learn all history and see how the pieces fit together. During Black History Month we review the well-known African-Americans and their contributions but we also learn about new African-Americans they we may not have heard of or knew very little about. The first person I would like to share is the poet Mr. Paul Laurence Dunbar

In Summer Time

Paul Laurence Dunbar, 18721906

When summer time has come, and all
The world is in the magic thrall
Of perfumed airs that lull each sense
To fits of drowsy indolence;
When skies are deepest blue above,
And flow’rs aflush,—then most I love
To start, while early dews are damp,
And wend my way in woodland tramp
Where forests rustle, tree on tree,
And sing their silent songs to me;
Where pathways meet and pathways part,—
To walk with Nature heart by heart,
Till wearied out at last I lie
Where some sweet stream steals singing by
A mossy bank; where violets vie
In color with the summer sky,—
Or take my rod and line and hook,
And wander to some darkling brook,
Where all day long the willows dream,
And idly droop to kiss the stream,
And there to loll from morn till night—
Unheeding nibble, run, or bite—
Just for the joy of being there
And drinking in the summer air,
The summer sounds, and summer sights,
That set a restless mind to rights
When grief and pain and raging doubt
Of men and creeds have worn it out;
The birds’ song and the water’s drone,
The humming bee’s low monotone,
The murmur of the passing breeze,
And all the sounds akin to these,
That make a man in summer time
Feel only fit for rest and rhyme.
Joy springs all radiant in my breast;
Though pauper poor, than king more blest,
The tide beats in my soul so strong
That happiness breaks forth in song,
And rings aloud the welkin blue
With all the songs I ever knew.
O time of rapture! time of song!
How swiftly glide thy days along
Adown the current of the years,
Above the rocks of grief and tears!
‘Tis wealth enough of joy for me
In summer time to simply be.

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Thenessa, an LPC-Intern, is a graduate of the Masters of Arts in Professional Counseling program at Amberton University under the supervision of Megan R. Lee, LPC-S. Thenessa earned her Bachelor of Arts in Psychology with a minor in Biology from East Texas Baptist University in Marshall, Texas.

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