Social media turns a beaming spotlight on Black History Month when the clock strikes midnight on February first. As a Black woman, it is uplifting to see those that worked tirelessly for your very freedoms and opportunities highlighted on a global scale. Even companies and politicians that participate in the unofficial commercialization of the day contribute to the overall warm acknowledgment — despite the incredibly excessive use of Kente cloth patterns. Any effort from allies is better than no outside support at all, and so I often simply smile to myself when I see #blacklivesmatter situated in captions on product placement posts. Â
Between spreads of pictures from the March on Washington and beige-tinted infographics, I kept seeing the same post shared over and over on my timeline. The simple request read, “Cash App a Black woman today” or “Cash App a Black man today,” with the individual’s cash tag. I was amused but not surprised to see this practice reemerge as this exact photo came to my attention during the summer of 2020.Â
At the height of the protests, supporting crowdfunding activism was growing in popularity every day. Among reports of donations in the millions, the New York Times reported funds were coming in “so fast and so unexpectedly that some groups even began to turn away and redirect donors elsewhere. Others said they still could not yet account for how much had arrived.” The shock from just a glimpse of what it is truly like to be Black in America released a glowing tidal wave of change in our country. During the midst of a surging global pandemic, citizens from all walks of life risked their health to protest in the streets and donated their hard-earned money to memorial funds for police brutality victims.Â
During a time of immense mourning and frustration in the community, funds needed to go to those in dire need. Dire need, of course, is subjective, especially during a pandemic. On top of that, 19.5 percent of the Black community in America is currently living under the poverty line, according to Statista. I sympathized with those who shared the call for cash during the protests, remembering that practically every person in the world needed a helping hand at that time.
Considering the immense compassion displayed during that summer, it is easy to view the recent shares of this personal call for donations as an opportunist angle on allies’ publicized willingness to help financially. In 2020, USA Today reported, “some say they’ve received payments out of the blue via money payment apps from white people they barely know. Others say white people have shown support by offering free services or giving words of encouragement when leaving a tip.”
Requesting donations simply due to the date on the calendar seems to fall short of sincere. Without the specifics of what issues the donation would alleviate, the action leaves space to question the validity of the request having anything to do with celebrating Black History Month.Â
Some users on social media have sold their participation in the trend under the guise of “reparations.” This emphasis on reparations in the form of financial donation — and not policy change — points to a deep need for a focus shift within the Black community from personal advancement to progress for all.
The larger mountains — such as why so many Black people are still so deeply chained in systematic poverty that they need to seek donations online — deserve much more attention. Focusing on advancement as a collective rather than the progression of ourselves is what will create lasting change.
It is incredibly admirable for allies to want to financially support the Black community in this way. Unfortunately, many allies do not realize there are many other ways to make just as much of an impact, if not more. The largest gifts are completely free. Using one’s privilege for good by spreading education to audiences who may have no other opportunity to receive it does more than any dollar donation ever could.Â
If anything, how much this country united together after the introduction of a national dialogue about police brutality is already proof that words are the most powerful path to change.