I’d scoff at the mad scramble for Black speakers at various events, prominent displays of Black filmmakers on streaming sites, and stores that turned the month into a capitalist bonanza by co-opting Blackness as just another product. And don’t even get me started on schools continuing to serve fried chicken and watermelon for lunch without any historical context . While I didn’t mind the obligatory incantation of “Every month is Black History Month,” one of the bromides dusted off every February, I would roll my eyes as bookstores stacked their windows with works by Black authors usually relegated to a...