In 1988, Rev. Jesse Jackson began a movement to change the designation of “Black” to “African American”, to symbolize black Americans' historical connection to the continent. The designation of “African American” was the first time blacks in the United States had been acknowledged as Americans.

There was disagreement, however, among some blacks who believed that they had no connection to Africa, rather 300 years of American heritage. While blacks may not know their definite ethnic group from which they descend, Africa was the place of their ancestors. Blackness is a social and political designation, the opposite of whiteness, created over 300 years ago to establish the place of blacks in the social and racial hierarchy of American society. This raises a question.

What does it mean to be American? Being an American is the belief that everyone has access to and the opportunity to achieve success in the United States through hard work, no matter their background. America prides itself on being a “meritocracy,” a society in which people achieve success based on demonstrated merit. Merit is demonstrated as a result of individual ability and talent.

The educational system is crucial in providing equal opportunity so that the abilities and talents of all students can be recognized and nurtured to demonstrate the merit essential for success in achieving the American dream. Is it possible, however, that conditioned stereotypical beliefs based upon the myth of African American intellectual inferiority can prevent teachers from recognizing and acknowledging innate abilities that would later demonstrate merit?

Unfortunately, as two middle-class African American parents, both holding graduate degrees, we saw the abilities or merit of our children denied. My son Jaha was recommended to be tested for the gifted program when he became of age as both a kindergartener and a first-grader. We approached the school and were not given a response. After continued inquiry, we were told that his records had been lost. Finally, understanding that we would have my son tested by psychologists at the university where my husband worked, the school relented. My son was finally tested, and the school psychologist reported that he scored higher than anyone else tested. Our problems were not over; however, Jaha was having difficulty in his gifted math class. His instructor suggested that perhaps he had been misplaced and did not belong in a gifted math class. Being a speech and hearing specialist, I knew that checking the eyes and ears of a student having difficulty was the first option. My son needed glasses, and it did not help that the teacher had him seated at the back of the classroom. With glasses, he excelled. We never told him of his teacher’s misperceptions, but rather encouraged him not to be beaten by math.

My daughter Saba, after continued inquiry, tested for the gifted program, and enrolled as well. She was recruited by top universities and admitted to Stanford. In front of her English class, the teacher, whose daughter had applied but not been accepted, suggested that my daughter got into Stanford based upon some criteria other than her merit. My daughter had every merit that Stanford was seeking, an honor’s student, an excellent writer, and a leader in many extracurricular activities.

If the legitimacy of the merits of two African American children from a home with the opportunities our children had to develop abilities and talents were not recognized, what about the masses of African American children?

It was my experience as an African American parent seeing how the conditioned narrative of African American intellectual inferiority functioned in the educational system that propelled me to begin work as a consultant dealing with issues related to the perception and treatment of African American students in our schools. Again, I must ask, “What does it mean to be an American?” Does the American designation following African have true meaning?