By Ronnie Galvin, Managing Director, Community Investment
Juneteenth, an African-American ‘high-holy day,’ marks the date (June 19, 1865) that enslaved African people in Galveston, Texas, learned of their emancipation from slavery. This was over 2 ½ years after the initial issuance of the Emancipation Proclamation on September 22, 1862, and its actual enactment on January 1, 1863.
You might ask (as I did when I first learned this history), why it took so long for Galveston’s African peoples to learn about their release from chattel slavery? Some have rationalized that Texas being the Union’s outermost slaveholding state is the reason why news of the proclamation arrived so late. Others ascribe to the belief that slaveholders in Galveston purposely withheld news of the Proclamation as a way to maintain their power, and to extend the exploitation of Black bodies.
The first rationale here is perhaps plausible. The second rationale is most probable and likely.
In preparation for our next DMV Community Book Group, I’ve been reading and contemplating Heather McGhee’s The Sum of Us: What Racism Costs Everyone and How We Can Prosper Together. McGhee uses economics, history, and storytelling to make a point that some may know, yet others fully reject: that the persistence of racism that has undermined Black people’s aspirations and progress also has high costs for us all.
Connecting McGhee’s book to the history of Juneteenth and Lincoln’s Emancipation, I find myself reflecting on the gap between the promise of freedom, and the experience of freedom. She cites countless moments when a nation that proclaims to be “home of the free” actively reneges on the promise of freedom for Black people.
While the national narrative amplifies the idea that America is the greatest democracy the world has ever seen, electoral gerrymandering, police assaults on Black bodies and neighborhoods, and disparity gaps between white and Black people in the areas of income, debt accumulation, access to higher education, health, and wealth suggest otherwise. So much promise pronounced in anthems, speeches, and national myth, is only contradicted by so much pain, disappointment, and the feeling of betrayal that Black people continue to experience in this stolen land.
Even as I pen this piece, the United States Senate has unanimously voted to make Juneteenth a federal holiday. For some this is a cause of celebration. I cannot join them, however. Not while they actively block reparations legislation, fuel voter suppression efforts meant to discount Black voting power, bristle with the rise of critical race theory, and amplify “alternative facts” meant to sanitize America’s racist settler colonialist history.
Symbolic pronouncements such as this, and the social-moral contradictions it reveals, are too much to ignore and can no longer be tolerated. To paraphrase the great Langston Hughes, this incongruity is yet another indication that the America that professes to be, “has never been America to me.”
This nation will never reach the pinnacle of its potential as long as Black people continue to suffer this demise. As the country continues to grow in its awareness about the cost and loss that Black people have endured, McGhee gracefully (but poignantly) reminds us that this pain also accrues to the masses of Americans. In other words—we all lose as long as systemic racism prevails.
It’s been nearly 160 years since the first Juneteenth, and our nation is still very much grappling with the origins of this milestone day. The way forward will require the kind of cross-racial, cross-class coalitions that have inspired the best moments in our democracy’s history. Moments that are once again taking their rise in current-day movements for better wages and income, healthcare for all, the generation and enjoyment of wealth, and repairing the damage we have done to the climate. To be sure, the threats to Black people—and all people—are significant and seemingly insurmountable, but they can be confronted and turned back in the face of the sum of us.
We are all in this together. We’re all we got. That’s more than enough.
