Martin Hanson: Juneteenth is my Fourth of July

By Martin Henson, Beacon Media 

Juneteenth is my Fourth of July. It comes with all my favorite things: barbecues, commemorations, elders standing up on stages with kente cloth and canes, and drum circles. I love it all. It’s my day of remembrance. 

I celebrate Juneteenth like I personally delivered the 1865 message of freedom to the enslaved in Galveston, Texas.

In 2021, Juneteenth became a federal holiday. But there are still many who don’t acknowledge it, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that designation is taken away someday.  

But the United States didn’t give this holiday to me, and, at least for me, it can’t take it away.

I’m celebrating Black freedom from chattel slavery that African American people demanded for ourselves.

The U.S. government reluctantly acknowledged this freedom. The Emancipation Proclamation was a peace treaty from a nation at war with Black bodies. The Civil War was the front where this exchange took place, when frequent plantation uprisings made Black bondage untenable and a tool used by the Union to help win the war. 

I celebrate Black people, not the document delivered by Abraham Lincoln, the same man who stated in his letter to Horace Greeley of the New York Tribune, “If I could save the Union without freeing any slave, I would do it.” 

To America, Black freedom, my freedom, was a chess move to undermine the Confederacy.

I have the day off on the Fourth of July. I see my family. Sometimes we pop a few fireworks. But I have never celebrated the American Revolution against the British, that independence complicated by the fact that both countries enslaved African people.

I’m also reminded of the complexities of Juneteenth becoming a federal holiday. It came right alongside the concessions of a Black uprising in 2020 after the murder of George Floyd — we were offered this day as some sort of peace offering. The day is always in danger of being forgotten, always under duress. 

We are reminded that our freedom can be removed in an instant: through gerrymandering, through conservative policymakers steadily dismantling the racial and justice-oriented formations that we fought for — the right to be free, the right to vote.

Cabarrus County Commissioner Larry Pittman called Juneteenth “a lie,” as of this writing, just a few days ago. 

The country prepares to celebrate its own version of freedom that runs in stark contrast to the contested freedoms the descendants of slavery enjoy.

This year, President Donald Trump demanded that Republican states — supposedly run by GOP lawmakers who say they care about states’ rights — make unprecedented changes to congressional voting maps to eliminate many Black districts entirely to benefit his party’s chances at a majority in the election. 

In my state of North Carolina, Greene, Lenoir, Wayne, and Wilson counties, which have significant minority populations, will see that impact this fall as they are gerrymandered from one U.S. House district to another where their votes can be diluted. 

Gerrymandering isn’t the only vestige of racial attitudes promoted by the Confederacy. For one example, Fayetteville’s Fort Bragg briefly changed its name to Fort Liberty in an effort to escape its Confederate history, before being reassigned its previous title to another, according to officials at the time, non-confederate military hero by the same name. 

I remember joking to my friends that Juneteenth may become illegal, receding back into the moonlight celebrations of our ancestors. But I will not allow my freedom to be seen as so small that it can be gobbled up or deleted by a federal designation — I must remind everyone of American history, the conquest, the blood, and the rusted chains of ships sunk and bodies lost in the sea. That is the legacy of Juneteenth that we celebrate: not that we are totally free now, but what was done to us will never happen again. It’s a recognition that complicates the history of how America wants to see itself.

The reminder is ever-present, but my holiday, our holiday for those who want to join, is not doom and gloom.

My Juneteenth trades “Resistance, Reunion, and Remembrance” for the Fourth of July’s pop culture mantra of “Boating, Barbeque, Beer and Blowing Things Up.”

Some find beauty in the Fourth. For me, Juneteenth surrounds me with joy. My fireworks sound like drumming. My barbecue comes with spades on the table. My tradition welcomes all to join in our celebration of history.

Some days Black folks are tired, and the fleeting recognition marking the end of our bondage is not a deterrent. The holiday was ours first. If it is taken away, Black celebration, Black joy, will never be.

In my family, we may wave a flag or two on the Fourth, but Juneteenth is a sacred reminder just as much as it is a celebration. America’s revolution began in 1776, but my ancestors’ ended in 1865. 

It is the most American of things to celebrate freedom. For me, and so many others, Juneteenth is our Fourth of July.

Martin Henson of Raleigh is an advocate and executive director of BMEN Foundation, which convenes Black men to address issues in their lives and communities. See his work atMartinHSpeaks.com. This column is syndicated by Beacon Media and is available to republish for free on all platforms under Beacon Media’s guidelines.