Was always interested in my history as a kid, but couldn't find much.
My parent did what they could and kept positive black images around me...
Had a picture of Mandela, Garvey and Hendrix in our house.
My mentor in high school saw I was thirsty for knowledge and put me on.
Told me about the Tuskegee Experiments; gave me book after book to burn through in a week and told me about the seedy (as well as racist as fukk) underbelly of sports.
She (and yes, my mentor was a woman) told me I was the brightest kid she'd ever met and with the right push and direction, could do something great for the black community.
While my black guidance counselor in middle school told my mom I was a nuisance because I "failed to comply with teachers.*"
*Translation: I fell asleep in my boring ass "teaching from packets" classes pretty much every day, but still answering correctly when called on and getting As and Bs on their tests
The biggest thing that made black and proud was and incident with a teacher I had in HS, when he made go to the office and miss taking my PSAT because of a Game Boy that fell out of my bag... While a white kid was playing his Game Boy two seats away.
When I asked him why I had to leave, but he could stay, the teacher said:
"because you don't belong here."
Put me on to the evils of most white folk right then and there.
Been black and proud ever since.