On Juneteenth, the Fourth of July, and choosing freedom every single day.
Juneteenth — the 161st — came and went. But what it represents didn’t. The resilience is steadfast, woven into the knit of nearly 60,000 days of building. Of ground work. Of books read and essays written. Of dance floors and deadlines. Of joy claimed loudly and grind logged quietly. Of anything I want is possible, satisfaction guaranteed — if I choose my providers wisely. Underground rails are still required in these streets. Black is beautiful, and our lives matter — the same, maybe more, because of all this country owes us. But America won’t dare reconcile meaningfully with a debt that big. Not when the bill includes the real founding mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, cousins and nieces, uncles and best friends — slain.
I know none of it was in vain. Every day I wake up American. Free? Ambiguous. Aspiring. Here. America’s 250th is hard to celebrate as a proud American woman — a Brown American woman. A woman who dreams American, bore American, works American, lives American, owns American — and still feels out of place. There’s no clean way to say I love my country without immediately thinking, this is a lot to hold at once. The inequality, in every form, at every turn. The not-knowing — you know, all of you. The discrimination. The lack of opportunity. The gatekeeping and the systemic walls. It’s all too much, and yet — we gone make it. Not by design, but by divine. By destiny. But until we’re all free, we’d better keep circling back. Referencing. Studying. Learning. Ideating. Protesting. Procotting. Positioning ourselves to be part of the revolutionary work that’s still unfinished.
Come and go with me to be both American and unsatisfied. Both proud and disgusted. Acknowledging the progress and lamenting what’s still missing. Going outside, dressed. Sitting inside, naked. Taking pleasure in the revival. Two things — or more — can be true at once. The truth, though, is not optional.
We the people — the baddies and the gentlemen — have to be well made on the inside first. Capable of driving light through hatred. Ready to keep experimenting. Able to hear the wisdom of history and still choose the unknown territory of what if, maybe, or — better yet — vision.
Who knows where we end up. But where we go next, what you do now, how I live moment to moment — that’s the actual practice of choosing freedom every day. Live to free. Live to be free. And know, truly: none of us are free until all of us are free.
Naked is free. Clothing is responsibility. Taste is a privilege, developed. Much like conscience. Well dressed is a right — no matter your budget. We can be right. We can be free. We can’t settle until the work is done.
Relish in vintage. Look to forever. Let’s be better, together.
June 19. July 2. July 4. Today, and every other day in between — in honor of every shoulder we stand on to be here. Even the ones who weren’t “for” all of us. I think we can each find a way to be the ancestors our descendants are proud of. Enjoy every celebration you choose. Choose LOVE. XO
