With a mother born and raised in Alabama, a father who served in Vietnam War for two tours, and a Godmother entrenched in the struggle for reparations – I’d say my knowledge of African American History is average.

Through road trips I’ve seen cotton growing in fields still picked by black hands. I’ve detected a sense of inferiority in the eyes of brown people when dealing with authority in southern states. I’ve experienced racism in the north with the expectation that I’d be ok with it, because that’s life.

I’ve had some great teachers: relatives that lived to tell a story and never feared sharing their experiences. Crosses burning in the yard, been there! Police harassment based on race, yea been there too! Injustice, go ahead and check that off while you’re at it.

Despite all the knowledge surrounding me you’d usually find smoke emitting from a grill on my patio July 4th. Tradition overshadowed history; therefore, my family came together in celebration of independence although the events of 1776 didn’t acknowledge nor benefit us.

Here we are in 2021 and Juneteenth is being publicly acknowledged by some elected officials. Finally they’ve granted us permission to celebrate our freedom-ish. Shall I curtsy in appreciation?

This accolade wasn’t given based on merit. This was forced! Individuals taking to the street in protest of injustice (not to be confused with the opportunist), a brave teenager instinctively hitting record as she witnessed the ugliest form of police brutality, and a blue wave that swept the nation forced the recognition of a freedom still yet to be respected.

I don’t give thanks for the recent acknowledgement of a freedom granted in 1865! My gratitude is reserved for the faces and voices of the people that said it’s past time to acknowledge that all people weren’t free when “we the people” gained independence.

“Daddy Changed The World” – Gianna Floyd