After 155 Juneteenths, obstacles to Black freedom in America persist | Opinion
Of the many unexpected developments of the past several months, Juneteenth’s rise to the nation’s consciousness is among the more surprising. Yet a closer look reveals three distinct parallels between the events surrounding the original Juneteenth and the experience of Black communities today: unequal gatekeeping by white power holders; ineffective implementation of policy promises; and sustained repression despite political progress.
In Juneteenth’s moment of (re)discovery, it’s instructive to consider how well the holiday’s origins translate to the present context. To recap: Lincoln “freed” people kept in slavery in the Confederacy in January 1863, the Civil War ended on April 9, 1865, and on June 19, 1865 people enslaved in Texas were among the last to learn of their “freedom.”
In 1865, it took more than two months for word to reach these pockets of people that they were in fact no longer enslaved. Information is liberating today and was literal liberation in 1865. Through systemic exclusion and marginalization, though, critical information is too often kept from Black communities.
Black people disproportionately populate communities on the less resourced side of the digital information divide — excluding us from the advantages that 21st century technology promise to “all.” This divide is exacerbated by limited education funding, which, of course, reflects redlined neighborhoods that rarely generate enough property-tax revenue to support those schools. Education funding is linked to hyper-local property taxes, which reflect neighborhoods and communities still reeling from decades of redlining, Jim Crow and — in Miami — the construction of I-95. In 1865 as well as today, powerful keyholders intentionally chose, and choose, not to convey information and realign society to liberate and support Black people.
Even after the gates of information were opened to those still enslaved though, life remained remarkably unchanged for most. A system of indentured servitude continued — rebranded as sharecropping, but more accurately resembling a system of forced labor and permanent indebtedness. The implementation of opportunities to earn livings and exercise rights enumerated in the Constitution and explicitly referenced in the Emancipation Proclamation failed to materialize.
Today, we live in a world with continued inconsistent and ineffective application of other supposed reforms and equalizers, from police body cameras and implicit-bias trainings, to busing, voting rights and more. In Florida in particular, even after voters passed Amendment 4 to re-enfranchise citizens returning from imprisonment, the state government tried to make voting contingent on administrative technicalities until overturned by courts. When it comes to anti-racist policies, there has always been a substantial gap between well said and well done.
The first Juneteenth kicked off a more than a decade-long period of Reconstruction, arguably evidence of policy translating into practice. At the height of Reconstruction, about 15 percent of elected officials in the South were Black — an amount higher than in 1990. Union troops stationed themselves in Southern cities. The road ahead looked treacherous, yet it seemed to trend in a just direction.
Until it didn’t.
After chipping away at protection for Blacks for years, the United States pulled Union troops out of the South in 1876. Jim Crow entrenched itself for a next century and the Klan began its reign of terror. The experience of Blacks during this time proves that even when information and policy implementation passes muster, sustaining a movement’s momentum poses the greatest challenge.
It is this point that resonates most with the moment our country now faces. The past few weeks have inspired hope and optimism for a more anti-racist America. Previously unfathomable happenings — from police budget divestments to the near universal acknowledgment of Juneteenth itself — feel like steps in the right direction. And yet, we must remember that too often in the United States, the past is prologue.
In between the Civil War ending and Juneteenth, word reached slave owners in Texas that the Confederacy had been defeated. And still, slavery persisted. After codification into law and enforcement, disenfranchisement continued through systems of sharecropping and racial terror. When troops left and attention from white allies waned, terror and oppression drove back the movement for a freer and fairer world for Blacks.
Americans interested in being on the anti-racist side of history today would do well to learn from the Juneteenth story arc. We’d do well to look inside ourselves, our families and our communities to examine how best we can meet this moment and prepare for the next. What are we each gatekeeping — by law or convention? What do we each believe, but are failing to implement? And, what are we doing to sustain this moment and movement to ensure Black lives continue to matter?
Chris Caines is a social-impact leader and a 2018 Miami Herald Influencer. He currently supports National Programs at Children’s Health Fund in New York.
This story was originally published June 18, 2020 at 6:32 PM.