the juneteenth special
a day to be black, joyous, and free
good morning and happy juneteenth (if you’re black). if you’re not black, please quickly tell me about the history and significance of today’s holiday. and if you can’t answer that but you happen to be off and/or receiving paid time off for juneteenth, open that wallet, baby.
the animosity i hold during the week of juneteenth isn’t toward the holiday itself by any means, but a larger reflection of the value that black lives hold within this country. i mean, juneteenth was just recognized as a federal holiday five years ago. black joy results in our dogs being shot and killed by the police. black prosperity can’t seem to exist in the entertainment industry as shows starring black women are prematurely canceled at the same time as new coming-of-age shows debut primarily white casts, silently condoning that black girls don’t deserve their girlhood onscreen. misogynoir is a daily struggle—something that lives and breathes in relationships, work environments, or casual conversations.
as i have researched more about misogynoir for my book and how it infiltrates fandoms, my southern background feels like a full plate of armor, equipped for the battle ahead.
(walk with me…we gon do some live-action role-playing aka larp for the unknowing)
this armor is inconspicuous—it seems as if i’ve been wearing it longer than i assume. for example, my breastplate encouraged me to endure the battles subjected to southern organizers, such as pejorative slurs and legal threats to our freedom. my vambrace, the part of armor that protects your forearm, guarded my hand as i entered the world of movement journalism and guided my sword (yes, i’m about to refer to my pen as a sword) while i wrote about the injustices in the workplace, college classroom, and home. and my helmet—arguably the most important piece of armor—gave my inner monologue the protection and peace required to avoid acting irrationally or impulsively in times of anger, burnout, or strife.
i love an analogy, mostly because i love to get a little whimsical with my experiences in this world and the prose to describe it. that’s what brought us joyous gifts to the black experience, such as jazz improvisations or the southern gothic genre. i’m intentionally using the word joyous because with all of the dread that accompanies the black american experience, i find that joy—that simultaneously embodies black feminist politics and envisions liberation—is necessary to celebrate juneteenth to its fullest potential.
today, i find myself extra grateful for black feminists, the history in our regional foodways, new orleans bounce and pussy rap, historians and archivists, black texans, bailey bass’ and delainey hayles’ renditions of claudia de lioncourt in interview with the vampire, afrofuturism, gospel music, miss juneteenth (dir. by channing godfrey peoples) and black pageantry, reproductive rights and maternal health advocates, peach cobbler, hair jewelry and wooden beads, black dancers who influenced ballroom culture, intricate and basic cornrow styles, solange knowles’ don’t you wait.
happy juneteenth!
juneteenth reading recommendations:
a meditation on “grieving a country that has never loved black folks” by dr. brittney cooper for the flytrap
the ongoing struggle for black women’s reproductive freedom, specifically in texas by imani gandy for rewire
how black anti-heroines in is god is can be healing for scorned black women by lyvie scott for roger ebert’s black writers week
on black women’s radicalism, the enemy of fascism for 200 years by jeanelle k. hope for lux magazine