Happy Black History Month. One hundred years ago, someone listened closely enough to hear what the nation refused to hear. In February 1926, Carter G. Woodson placed a marker in time and called it memory. He named it Negro History Week, but what he was really doing was rescuing the past from silence. He was insisting that the lives, labor, and imagination of Black people were not footnotes, not margins, not echoes—but the music itself. Woodson understood something dangerous and simple: a people without an honest record are easier to erase. So he wrote against forgetting. He organized against disappearance. He gathered stories not as relics, but as proof—proof that Black life had always been thinking, building, resisting, loving its way forward. Today, in February 2026, we arrive at a Century of Black History Commemorations. A hundred years of saying the names. A hundred years of correcting the record. A hundred years of refusing the lie that history belongs only to those with monuments. What began as a tool for teachers became a lifeline for generations. What started in classrooms moved into homes, churches, streets, studios, laboratories, and boardrooms. The work expanded because the need never ended. Woodson chose February not just for its dates, but for its symbolism. He understood time the way Black people often do—not as a straight line, but as a circle. He knew that history lives in repetition, in inheritance, in what returns because it was never resolved. And so the record keeps turning. This year’s theme reminds us that Black history is not something finished and filed away. It is a legacy in motion. It moves through the hands of workers and the minds of makers. It hums beneath labor movements and pulses through code, climate solutions, and cultural creation. It survives because each generation presses play again. At OHUB, we stand inside that continuity. We honor this centennial not only by remembering what was fought for, but by building what must come next—systems of ownership, innovation, and opportunity sturdy enough to hold another hundred years of Black futures. This is not a look backward. It is a recognition of momentum. A century later, the needle has not lifted. The music has not faded. The record is still playing. This month, we’re telling that story. Not as tribute—but as instruction. 📍 Follow along for 28 days of builders, breakthroughs, and what comes next. #BlackHistoryMonth #BlackHistoryCommemorations #TheRecordIsStillPlaying #OHUB