Sign up for updates, news, first look at products and more.
Coupon valid for first order only. Not valid for travel purchases.
*By entering your phone number and submitting this form, you consent to receive marketing and order status text messages from True Classic at the number provided, including messages sent by autodialer. Consent is not a condition of any purchase. Message and data rates may apply. Message frequency varies. You can unsubscribe at any time by replying STOP or clicking the unsubscribe link (where available) in one of our messages. View our Privacy Policy and Terms of Service
There are facts about Black history that have been systematically buried, distorted, or erased — not by accident, but by design. History books went through editorial boards. Curricula went through school boards controlled by people who had reasons to want certain stories left out. The result is a version of American history with enormous, deliberate gaps.
Freddie Taylor built Urban Intellectuals to fill those gaps. And his book, 50 Truths They Tried to Erase: Black Power, Culture, and Resistance Uncovered, is one of the most powerful tools he’s ever created to do it.
The Truth Has Always Been There — They Just Hid It
This is not a conspiracy theory. It is documented history.
The story of the Tulsa Race Massacre — in which a thriving Black neighborhood known as “Black Wall Street” was burned to the ground by a white mob in 1921, killing hundreds and destroying over 1,200 homes — was suppressed in Oklahoma school curricula for decades. The 1985 MOVE bombing, in which Philadelphia police dropped explosives on a Black organization’s rowhouse and let the resulting fire burn an entire city block, killing 11 people including 5 children, barely registers in mainstream American consciousness.
The Reconstruction era, during which Black men held office across the South, built universities, and governed communities — before being violently overthrown by white supremacist militias — is reduced in most textbooks to a single chapter, if that.
These are not obscure footnotes. They are foundational chapters of American history that shaped everything that followed. And they were suppressed because the people who controlled the story had something to lose if the truth got out.
What Makes 50 Truths Different
There’s no shortage of Black history content out there. So what makes Freddie Taylor’s 50 Truths They Tried to Erase worth your attention?
First: it doesn’t perform respectability. This book isn’t asking anyone’s permission to tell the full story. It covers the glory and the grief, the genius and the grief, the systems of oppression and the people who dismantled them — without softening the edges to make anyone comfortable.
Second: it’s organized for impact. Fifty truths. Fifty moments, people, movements, and facts that changed the course of history — and that the dominant culture tried its best to minimize, marginalize, or erase entirely. Each one lands like a revelation for readers encountering it for the first time. For those who already knew, it’s validation. You were right to suspect the story was bigger than what you were told.
Third: it connects the dots. The most dangerous kind of knowledge isn’t just facts — it’s the ability to see patterns. 50 Truths doesn’t just tell you what happened. It shows you how these events connect to each other, and to the present. The suppression of Black Wall Street connects to ongoing redlining and wealth gaps. The dismantling of Reconstruction connects to every cycle of progress-and-backlash that followed. The criminalization of Black identity under Black Codes connects to mass incarceration today.
When you can see the pattern, you can’t unsee it. That’s the point.
50 Truths — A Taste of What’s Inside
Without giving away the full book, here’s a sense of the terrain it covers:
The inventors and scientists whose contributions were patented under white names, licensed away, or simply stolen — and who built the modern world from the background
The political leaders of Reconstruction who governed effectively and justly, before being removed from power by violence and fraud
The cultural architects whose music, art, language, and fashion became American culture — while the creators were denied credit, compensation, and safety
The resistance movements that most Americans have never heard of — self-defense organizations, labor organizers, legal strategists who fought in courts and in the streets long before the civil rights era as commonly taught
The moments of extraordinary Black excellence that happened against odds so stacked, the achievement itself becomes proof of something remarkable in the human spirit
This is not a book about suffering. It’s a book about power — who had it, who took it, and who kept building it no matter what.
For Families Raising Aware Children
One of the questions Freddie Taylor gets most often is: how do I teach my kids this history without making them feel hopeless?
The answer 50 Truths offers is rooted in what Black families have always known: the real history is not a story of victimhood. It’s a story of people who built, thrived, resisted, and survived against every structural force aligned against them. Children who know that story grow up with a different relationship to their own potential.
They know that the erasure was real — and they know that the achievement was more real. That’s not the same thing as being told everything is fine. It’s being told the truth: we have always been greater than what they allowed the world to see.
Why This Moment Demands This Book
We are living through a moment of coordinated, legislated historical erasure. Curricula are being stripped of Black history content across multiple states. Books are being removed from school libraries. Teachers are being disciplined for teaching documented history.
In this environment, 50 Truths They Tried to Erase isn’t just a book. It’s an act of resistance. It’s a way of saying: we know what happened. We’re teaching it anyway. And we’re putting it in our children’s hands so they have it too — regardless of what any school board decides.
The people who tried to erase this history understood its power. So do we.
In the immediate aftermath of the Civil War, as formerly enslaved people took their first steps toward freedom, a new system of oppression was already taking shape. Black Codes — a series of laws enacted across Southern states between 1865 and 1866 — were designed to do exactly what the Confederacy had failed to accomplish on the battlefield: keep Black Americans in a state of subjugation, bound to the land, stripped of rights, and economically captive to the same white landowners who had once enslaved them.
Understanding Black Codes is not just a history lesson. It’s a window into how power protects itself — and how the struggle for Black freedom has always required fighting on multiple fronts simultaneously.
What Were Black Codes?
Black Codes were a collection of state and local laws passed throughout the former Confederate states beginning in 1865, immediately following the ratification of the 13th Amendment. On paper, the 13th Amendment abolished slavery in the United States. In practice, Southern legislatures moved swiftly to construct a legal architecture that preserved the conditions of slavery without using the word.
These laws specifically targeted Black Americans — both formerly enslaved people and free Black individuals who had lived in the South before the war — and were designed to control their labor, restrict their movement, limit their legal rights, and ensure their continued economic dependence on white employers.
When and Where Did Black Codes Emerge?
Mississippi was the first state to enact Black Codes, passing its laws in November 1865 — less than eight months after the war ended. South Carolina followed in December of the same year. Within a year, virtually every former Confederate state had enacted similar legislation, including Alabama, Georgia, Florida, Louisiana, Texas, Virginia, and North Carolina.
The speed of their enactment was no accident. Southern lawmakers understood that the window was narrow. Federal troops still occupied parts of the South, the Freedmen’s Bureau was beginning operations, and Northern public opinion was volatile. They moved fast, confident that the federal government — under President Andrew Johnson, who opposed Reconstruction — would not intervene.
They were partially right. Johnson’s lenient Reconstruction plan essentially allowed Southern states to reconstitute their governments with former Confederate leaders in place and gave them significant latitude to set the terms of Black life in the postwar South.
The Specific Laws: A Closer Look
Black Codes varied somewhat by state, but they shared a core set of mechanisms designed to achieve the same end: control.
Vagrancy Laws
Perhaps the most insidious of the Black Codes, vagrancy laws defined as “vagrant” any Black person who could not prove they were employed — at the beginning of each year, no less. A Black American deemed a vagrant could be arrested, fined, and if unable to pay the fine (which was virtually guaranteed, given that they had just emerged from slavery with nothing), they would be leased out to a white employer to work off the debt.
This was slavery with a paper trail. Mississippi’s Vagrant Law of 1865 explicitly stated that unemployed Black men could be hired out to “any white person” who paid their fine — and that if they escaped before their labor term was complete, they could be recaptured and returned.
Labor Contracts and Apprenticeship Laws
Black workers were required to sign annual labor contracts with white employers before January 1st each year. If they left before the contract expired — for any reason, including abuse — they could be arrested and forcibly returned. Wages earned up to that point could be forfeited.
Apprenticeship laws were equally predatory. Black children whose parents were deemed unable to support them — a wildly subjective determination — could be legally “apprenticed” to white families. Former enslaved owners were given priority. In many cases, this meant children were simply returned to the households that had enslaved them just months earlier.
Restrictions on Movement, Assembly, and Ownership
Mississippi’s 1865 laws prohibited Black people from renting or leasing land in urban areas, effectively trapping them in rural agricultural labor. South Carolina’s Black Codes required Black workers to obtain a special license — and pay a fee — to work in any occupation other than farming or domestic service.
Many states banned Black people from owning firearms, requiring them to obtain a license (which was routinely denied). Public assembly by Black people without a white person present was restricted or banned outright. Curfews were imposed. Interracial marriage was criminalized.
The message was clear: you may no longer be property, but you will still live as if you were.
The 13th Amendment Loophole
Here is what the history books often fail to emphasize: the 13th Amendment that abolished slavery contained — and still contains — a critical exception. The amendment reads: “Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States.”
That phrase — “except as a punishment for crime” — was the legal foundation on which Black Codes were built. By criminalizing everyday existence for Black Americans (unemployment, movement without papers, assembly), Southern states could funnel them into the criminal justice system and then legally subject them to forced labor.
This wasn’t a bug. It was the design. The vagrancy laws, the labor contract violations, the curfew infractions — all of it fed into a system of convict leasing that generated enormous profit for Southern states and private businesses while providing free or near-free labor well into the 20th century.
The Northern Response and the Birth of Reconstruction
When news of the Black Codes reached the North, the backlash was fierce. Radical Republicans in Congress, already at odds with President Johnson’s lenient approach, used the Black Codes as evidence that the South was attempting to undo the results of the war.
In 1866 and 1867, Congress passed the Civil Rights Act of 1866 (which Johnson vetoed, and Congress overrode) and launched what became known as Radical Reconstruction. Federal troops were sent to enforce the law. The Freedmen’s Bureau was empowered. The 14th and 15th Amendments were drafted and ratified, extending citizenship and voting rights to Black men.
For a brief, remarkable period — roughly 1867 to 1877 — Black men voted in large numbers, held public office, built schools and churches, and began to accumulate land and wealth. The Black Codes were formally struck down.
But Reconstruction ended. Federal troops were withdrawn as part of the Compromise of 1877. And within a generation, the South had constructed a new system — Jim Crow — that accomplished through social terror and legal segregation what the Black Codes had done through explicit racial statute. The names changed. The intent did not.
Why This History Matters Now
Black Codes were not a footnote. They were a template — for Jim Crow, for mass incarceration, for every system that has used the law to constrain Black possibility while maintaining the appearance of legal neutrality.
When you understand Black Codes, you begin to understand the full architecture of American racial oppression: not as a series of isolated incidents, but as an ongoing, adaptive project. And when you understand that project in full, you understand both how far we’ve come — and how much further we must go.
This is exactly the kind of history our children deserve to know. Not as a story of victimhood, but as a story of resistance, survival, and the relentless pursuit of freedom against systems designed to deny it.
Continue the Education
Black History Flashcards & Learning Tools
Our flashcard sets and educational tools bring Black history — including the Reconstruction era, Jim Crow, and the full arc of the freedom struggle — to life for kids and families.
Prefer to listen? We turned this article into a podcast conversation.
Let me ask you something.
Where is your money right now? Not “how much” — where. Which institution is holding it? What community is it serving? Who benefits when your checking account balance sits there overnight?
Because if the answer is a major bank that has redlined our neighborhoods, denied our mortgages, and profited off our deposits while investing everywhere but where we live — we need to have a conversation.
Why Black-Owned Banks Matter
Black-owned banks aren’t just banks. They’re resistance.
The first ones were founded right after the Civil War, when formerly enslaved people pooled their resources to create financial institutions that would actually serve them. Because the mainstream banks wouldn’t. Flat out refused.
That was 1865. And in 2026, Black families are still being denied mortgages at higher rates than white families with lower credit scores. The system hasn’t fixed itself. It was never going to.
Black-owned banks exist to fill the gap that racism created. They lend in communities where big banks won’t. They approve small business loans for entrepreneurs who’ve been turned away three, four, five times. They keep money circulating within our communities instead of extracting it.
The Numbers Tell the Story
In 1994, there were 54 Black-owned banks in America. Today? About 20.
That decline isn’t because they failed. It’s because the system made it almost impossible for them to survive. Larger banks acquire smaller ones. Regulatory burdens hit community banks harder. And every economic downturn hits Black financial institutions first and hardest.
But the ones that survived? They’re built different. They’ve weathered every storm because the communities they serve won’t let them fail.
Banks You Should Know
OneUnited Bank — The largest Black-owned bank in America, with branches in Massachusetts, Florida, and California. They were one of the first banks to offer a Black History debit card, and they’ve been at the forefront of the #BankBlack movement. You can open an account from anywhere in the country.
Citizens Trust Bank — Atlanta, Georgia. Founded in 1921. This bank survived the Great Depression, the Civil Rights era, and the 2008 financial crisis. It’s been financing Black businesses in Atlanta for over a century.
Liberty Bank and Trust — New Orleans, Louisiana. Founded in 1972, it’s now one of the largest Black-owned banks in the country with branches across seven states. They’ve been critical in post-Katrina rebuilding and continue to invest heavily in underserved communities.
Industrial Federal Credit Union — Washington, D.C. Founded in 1934 during the Great Depression. Credit unions operate slightly differently than banks — they’re member-owned, which means your money directly supports the institution and its community.
Optus Bank — Columbia, South Carolina. Formerly Victory Savings Bank, founded in 1921. Recently rebranded and expanded its mission to focus on closing the racial wealth gap through innovative lending programs.
Harbor Bank of Maryland — Baltimore. Over 60 years of service, consistently rated as one of the best community development financial institutions in the country.
✊🏾 Join 500,000+ families keeping Black history alive at home.
Get tools, stories, and exclusive offers delivered to your inbox.
But I Can’t Switch Banks — Can I?
You can. And it’s not as hard as you think.
The #BankBlack and #MoveYourMoney movements have made it simpler than ever. Most Black-owned banks now offer online banking, mobile apps, and remote account opening. You don’t have to live near a branch.
Here’s a realistic approach: you don’t have to move everything at once.
Start with a savings account. Open one at a Black-owned bank and set up an automatic transfer — even $25 a month. That’s $300 a year that stays in your community instead of funding someone else’s.
Move one bill. Pick one automatic payment and route it through your new account. Get comfortable with the platform.
Talk to your family. When your parents, siblings, and cousins all bank at the same institution, the collective impact multiplies. This is how community economics works.
The History Our Kids Need to Know
Here’s what makes this a family conversation, not just a financial one.
Maggie Lena Walker became the first woman of any race to charter a bank in the United States — in 1903. The St. Luke Penny Savings Bank in Richmond, Virginia, was designed specifically to serve the Black community.
The Freedman’s Savings Bank, established in 1865, was one of the first financial institutions for formerly enslaved people. It had 70,000 depositors before it collapsed — not because of mismanagement by the depositors, but because white trustees invested the money recklessly. The depositors, many of them formerly enslaved, lost everything.
These aren’t just history lessons. They’re warnings and instructions. Our financial institutions matter. Who controls them matters. And teaching our children about economic self-determination is just as important as teaching them about the Civil Rights Movement.
This is the kind of history that connects the past to the present — the kind you’ll find in our Black History Flashcards. Figures like Maggie Lena Walker, stories like the Freedman’s Bank. Not just names and dates, but lessons that still apply today.
What You Can Do This Week
This isn’t a “someday” thing. This is a “this weekend” thing.
1. Look up whether there’s a Black-owned bank or credit union near you — or one you can join online.
2. Open a savings account. Even with $50. The act of starting matters more than the amount.
3. Tell somebody. Share this article. Text it to your group chat. The movement grows person by person.
4. Teach your kids. Show them where money goes. Explain why it matters who holds it. Give them a financial education that centers community wealth, not just individual wealth.
Our grandparents understood something that got lost somewhere along the way: money in our institutions builds our neighborhoods, funds our schools, backs our businesses, and creates generational wealth that stays in the family.
It’s time we remembered.
Love, peace, and power to the people. ✊🏾
Do you bank Black? Thinking about switching? Drop your experience in the comments — let’s put each other on.
Don’t miss what matters.
Join the Urban Intellectuals family — history, culture, and tools for raising empowered Black children. Straight to your inbox.
The school system was not built for our children. It wasn’t designed with them in mind, it wasn’t funded with them as a priority, and in too many places, it doesn’t even acknowledge they exist in the curriculum.
So when I tell you that Black homeschooling has exploded — we’re talking a 500% increase since 2020 — I’m not surprised. Are you?
The Exodus Is Real
Before the pandemic, roughly 3.3% of Black families homeschooled. By 2023, that number had jumped to over 16% in some regions. And it’s still climbing.
This isn’t a trend. It’s a movement. And it’s being led by Black mothers who looked at what was happening in classrooms and said, “I can do better.”
They’re not wrong.
Why Families Are Leaving
The reasons aren’t complicated. Ask any Black homeschooling parent and you’ll hear the same themes:
The curriculum erases us. When your child’s textbook covers the entire Civil Rights Movement in half a chapter and never mentions anyone before Martin Luther King Jr., that’s not education. That’s erasure.
The discipline gap is real. Black children are 3.8 times more likely to be suspended than white children. Preschoolers. Getting suspended. For being children.
The pandemic showed us what’s possible. Parents who were forced into homeschooling during COVID discovered something: their kids actually thrived when learning wasn’t tied to a bell schedule and a standardized test.
Cultural identity matters. A child who doesn’t see themselves reflected in their education starts to believe they don’t belong in it. Full stop.
“But I’m Not a Teacher”
This is the number one thing I hear. And I get it. The idea of becoming your child’s entire educational system sounds terrifying.
Here’s what nobody tells you: you don’t have to become a teacher. You have to become a facilitator.
The difference? A teacher stands at the front of a room and delivers information. A facilitator creates the environment, provides the resources, and guides the child through discovery.
You’ve been doing this since they were born. You taught them to walk, talk, eat, tie their shoes. You’ve been facilitating their learning their entire life. Homeschool is just being intentional about it.
✊🏾 Join 500,000+ families keeping Black history alive at home.
Get tools, stories, and exclusive offers delivered to your inbox.
The Practical Stuff
Let’s get into it.
Check your state laws. Every state is different. Some require you to file a notice. Some want you to submit a curriculum plan. Some don’t require anything at all. The HSLDA website has a state-by-state breakdown.
Pick your style. Classical, Montessori, unschooling, Charlotte Mason, eclectic — there are dozens of approaches. Most Black homeschool families end up going eclectic: pulling what works from different philosophies and building something custom.
Build your community. This is non-negotiable. Join a Black homeschool co-op. Find local meetups. Connect on social media. Your child needs socialization, and you need other parents who understand why you made this choice.
Start with your anchors. Reading. Math. Everything else can flex. Get those two locked in with a solid curriculum, and build the rest around your family’s interests and values.
Make Black History the Backbone
Here’s where most homeschool curricula fall short — even the “inclusive” ones. They treat Black history as a module. A unit. Something you cover in February and then move on.
In your homeschool, Black history isn’t a unit. It’s the lens.
Teaching the American Revolution? Talk about Crispus Attucks. Teaching science? Start with Lewis Howard Latimer and the carbon filament. Teaching literature? Phillis Wheatley was writing poetry that stunned the Western world before America was even a country.
Our Black History Flashcards are perfect for this — each card is a jumping-off point for an entire lesson. Pull a card at breakfast, research the person together, and let that guide your day. That’s not just education. That’s legacy.
Pair them with Black History Bingo for game-based learning that doesn’t feel like school. Because the best lessons never do.
What About Socialization?
Every homeschool parent has been asked this question by a well-meaning relative at Thanksgiving. “But what about socialization?”
Here’s the honest answer: socialization in public school often means learning to sit quietly for six hours, navigate cliques, and deal with bullying. That’s not the socialization we’re worried about preserving.
Homeschooled kids socialize through co-ops, sports leagues, church groups, community service, neighborhood play, family gatherings, and a dozen other real-world settings. They learn to interact with people of all ages — not just 25 kids born in the same year.
The Results Speak
Black homeschooled students score, on average, 23-42 percentile points above their public school counterparts on standardized tests. They have higher college enrollment rates. And study after study shows they have stronger self-identity and cultural pride.
This isn’t anecdotal. The numbers are clear.
It’s Not For Everyone — And That’s OK
Homeschooling requires time, energy, and often a financial restructuring. Single parents, families where both parents work full-time, families without a support network — this isn’t always feasible.
And that’s real. No judgment here.
But if you’ve been thinking about it, if that little voice in the back of your head has been saying “I could do this” — listen to it. Because you probably can.
Start small. Start with one subject. Start with a summer pilot program. Start with a conversation with your kids about what they actually want to learn.
The school system might not have been built for our children. But that doesn’t mean we can’t build something better.
Love, peace, and power to the people. ✊🏾
Are you homeschooling? Thinking about it? What’s holding you back? Let us know in the comments — we’re building a community here.
Don’t miss what matters.
Join the Urban Intellectuals family — history, culture, and tools for raising empowered Black children. Straight to your inbox.
Prefer to listen? We turned this article into a podcast conversation.
She was six years old.
Let that sit for a minute. Six. The age when most kids are worried about losing a tooth or what’s for lunch. Ruby Bridges was worried about the grown folks screaming at her on the way to school.
On November 14, 1960, federal marshals escorted Ruby Nell Bridges into William Frantz Elementary School in New Orleans, Louisiana. She became the first Black child to desegregate an all-white elementary school in the South.
She didn’t choose this. Her parents did. And they chose it knowing what it would cost.
The Walk That Changed America
Four federal marshals. One little girl. A mob of white parents so enraged by a child’s presence that they pulled their own kids out of school.
Ruby walked past screaming adults, past a woman holding a Black doll in a coffin, past people threatening to poison her. Every single day. For an entire school year.
One teacher — Barbara Henry, from Boston — agreed to teach her. The rest refused. So Ruby sat in a classroom of one, learning her lessons while the world outside that door tried to break her.
She never missed a day.
What Her Parents Sacrificed
We talk about Ruby, but we don’t talk enough about Abon and Lucille Bridges.
Her father lost his job. The local grocery store refused to serve her family. Her grandparents, who were sharecroppers in Mississippi, were kicked off their land.
The family knew this would happen. They did it anyway.
Lucille Bridges said it plainly: “My husband and I just wanted what was right for our children.”
That’s the line that should be in every history book. Not the sanitized version about “progress” and “changing times.” A Black family making an impossible choice because they believed their child deserved the same education as everyone else’s child.
Norman Rockwell Saw It. Did You?
Norman Rockwell’s painting The Problem We All Live With showed Ruby walking to school, flanked by marshals, tomato splattered on the wall behind her.
It was too controversial for the Saturday Evening Post. Think about that — a painting of a child going to school was considered too provocative for mainstream America in 1964.
That painting eventually hung in the White House. President Obama stood next to Ruby Bridges herself when they unveiled it. A full circle that took over fifty years.
But here’s what we need to ask ourselves: how many of our children have actually seen that painting? How many know the story behind it?
✊🏾 Join 500,000+ families keeping Black history alive at home.
Get tools, stories, and exclusive offers delivered to your inbox.
What Schools Leave Out
Most textbooks give Ruby Bridges two paragraphs. Maybe three if you’re lucky. They frame it as: “A brave little girl went to school. Things got better. The end.”
They leave out the terror. They leave out the economic retaliation against her family. They leave out that Ruby needed therapy as an adult to process what happened to her at six years old.
They leave out that the same school she desegregated was later named after her — and that in 2022, a parent in Tennessee tried to ban a book about Ruby Bridges from a school library.
Read that again. A book about a child fighting for the right to go to school — banned from a school.
If that doesn’t tell you why we need to teach this history ourselves, at home, with our own materials, I don’t know what will.
Why This Story Matters Right Now
Ruby Bridges is still alive. She’s 71 years old. The woman who desegregated that school is younger than some of your grandparents.
This isn’t ancient history. This is within living memory.
And the forces that lined up to keep a six-year-old out of school? They didn’t disappear. They just changed their language. “Critical race theory.” “Age-inappropriate material.” “Divisive concepts.”
Different words. Same energy.
That’s why it falls on us — Black parents, grandparents, aunties, uncles — to make sure our children know the full story. Not the watered-down version. The real one.
How to Teach This at Home
You don’t need a curriculum committee to teach your child about Ruby Bridges. You need a conversation and some good materials.
Start with the story. Tell them what happened — age-appropriately but honestly. Don’t sugarcoat it. Kids can handle more truth than we give them credit for.
Then connect it to today. Ask them: “Has anyone ever treated you differently because of how you look?” Let them talk. Listen.
Our Black History Flashcards were built for exactly these moments — turning a name into a conversation, a fact into a family discussion. Ruby’s story is one of hundreds that our kids deserve to know by heart.
What Ruby Says Now
Ruby Bridges has spent her adult life doing exactly what the mob tried to prevent: educating children.
She founded the Ruby Bridges Foundation, dedicated to promoting tolerance and creating change through education. She visits schools. She tells her story. She’s still walking through that door, every single day.
In her own words: “Each and every one of us is born with a clean heart. Our babies know nothing about hate or racism. But soon they begin to learn — and only from us.”
That’s the assignment, fam. Our kids are born with clean hearts. What we put in those hearts is on us. Not the school system. Not the textbook publishers. Us.
So tonight, at the dinner table, tell your kids about Ruby. Tell them the whole story. And then ask them what they would have done.
Flashcards
Games
Apparel & Homeware
Travel
Schools
Memberships
Sankofa Club (Children)
About Us