Today is Juneteenth, a holiday commemorating the day the last community of Africans enslaved in the U.S. were informed of their freedom.

It took almost three years after President Abraham Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation on September 22, 1862, for the end of one of the darkest chapters in American history to really take hold. The proclamation marked the end of slavery, but in the town of Galveston Island, Texas, enslaved Africans remained in bondage and subjugation. On June 19th, 1865, Major General Gordon Granger and Union soldiers, who had been traveling throughout the South for over two years spreading the word, arrived at Galveston and issued General Orders Number 3, officially freeing the last of the enslaved:

"The people of Texas are informed that, in accordance with a proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free. This involves an absolute equality of personal rights and rights of property between former masters and slaves, and the connection heretofore existing between them becomes that between employer and hired labor. The freedmen are advised to remain quietly at their present homes and work for wages. They are informed that they will not be allowed to collect at military posts and that they will not be supported in idleness either there or elsewhere."

General Orders, Number 3; Headquarters District of Texas, Galveston, June 19, 1865

Juneteenth is a state holiday in Texas and is officially celebrated in 43 states in America, often with parades, barbecues and memorial ceremonies. The New York Times featured an interesting piece on traditions and food associated with the holiday.

This day is usually a day for celebration. But today, I am reminded of how far we have yet to go until we are truly free. Today, sitting with the news of more violence against black people this weekend, I am reminded of how far we have to go until black lives really matter. I am reminded of the great distance between our ideals as enshrined in so many founding documents and the lived experiences of the marginalized.

I hold in my heart the families of Nabra Hussein, Charleena Lyles, and Philando Castile. Today, I worry for the safety of my own family and all the black people I love; especially the trans women, the Muslims, the mothers, the youth, and the disabled.

Today, we renew our commitment to work to dismantle all systems of oppression. There is no such thing as justice for some of us, without liberty for all of us.

I’m re-reading this post from ACLU of Massachusetts, which illustrates how case law impedes criminal justice reform, and considering exactly what dismantling that looks like.  And at this time, what I hold through my grief and rage, is a full awareness of the resilience and dedication of my people. Because of this, I believe that we will win. And on this, Black Independence Day, that is what I will celebrate.