Embark on a journey beyond the conventional narratives of black history with “Untold Heroes: Extraordinary Black Figures in History.” This pioneering children’s book series, crafted by John Stewart III and Deandra, aims to unveil the rich, global tapestry of black excellence. Dive into their Kickstarter to be part of bringing these vital stories to our…

I had a conversation with a colleague recently about how flat our picture of Black history can get — the lens narrows to American history alone, and the heroes and heroines from the rest of the diaspora keep slipping through. So instead of one more rundown of the names you already got every February, here’s a handful of people whose stories should be just as familiar and somehow aren’t. Some American, some not, because the diaspora didn’t stop at the U.S. border and neither should the reading list.

The Heroes the Syllabus Skipped

Claudette Colvin

Everybody knows Rosa Parks. Almost nobody knows that nine months earlier, a 15-year-old named Claudette Colvin did the same thing — refused to give up her seat to a white passenger on a Montgomery bus and got arrested for it on March 2, 1955. Movement leaders decided a pregnant teenager wasn’t the face they wanted out front, so history quietly filed her under “footnote.” She was anything but: Colvin became one of four plaintiffs in Browder v. Gayle, the case that actually got Montgomery’s bus segregation ruled unconstitutional in 1956. Parks became the symbol the country needed; Colvin was one of the people who made the win legally real — and most folks have never heard her name.

Robert Smalls

Picture it: 1862, you’re enslaved and forced to pilot a Confederate military steamer, the CSS Planter, around Charleston Harbor. One night the white officers go ashore. Robert Smalls put on the captain’s hat, gave the right signals to slip past the harbor forts, collected his family and crew along the way, and sailed the whole ship to the Union blockade — flying a white bedsheet so the Navy wouldn’t open fire. He freed himself, his family, and his crew in one move, and handed the United States a warship and a stack of Confederate intel on the way out. Then he went and served multiple terms as a U.S. Congressman from South Carolina. The man’s life reads like a movie nobody’s greenlit yet.

Mary Seacole

While Florence Nightingale was becoming a household name nursing British troops in the Crimean War, a Jamaican woman named Mary Seacole was doing the same work and getting written out of the story. She volunteered for the official nursing corps and got turned down — she believed it was her race — so she funded her own trip to the front in 1855, set up a place called the British Hotel to feed and supply the soldiers, and went onto the battlefield under fire to treat the wounded herself. Britain eventually caught up: in 2004 the public voted her the greatest Black Briton in history. Took about 150 years, but they got there.

Nanny of the Maroons

In the mountains of 18th-century Jamaica there was Queen Nanny, leader of the Windward Maroons — communities of people who’d escaped slavery and built free settlements in the bush. She was a battlefield commander, not a figurehead: strategy, ambushes, the works, holding off a colonial empire from the high ground through years of guerrilla war. Jamaica named her a national hero in 1975, the only woman on the list. The British had the army, the navy, and the maps; she had the terrain and refused to lose.

Lewis Latimer

A name that belongs in every lightbulb conversation: Lewis Latimer, son of formerly enslaved parents. Edison gets the credit, and he earned plenty, but his early bulbs ran a carbon filament that burned out fast. Latimer worked out a better way to manufacture that filament so it actually lasted — a big reason electric light became practical instead of a rich-person novelty. He was good enough that Edison hired him in 1883 as a lead patent investigator inside his inner circle. The guy helped light up the modern world and still didn’t make the textbook chapter about it.

Say the Names

None of these people ended up obscure because their stories were small. They ended up there because someone else decided which stories counted. So say the names, pass them on, and put Colvin next to Parks and Latimer next to Edison — where they belonged the whole time. The same goes for the only Black automaker America ever had, Charles R. Patterson, and a few names you’d never guess came out of Greensboro, North Carolina.