The Fourth of
July
is a farce when
it comes down
to Black Folks’
Freedom
“Why us always have family reunion on
July 4th?” asks Alice Walker’s character Henrietta in “The Color
Purple.” Harpo replies: “White
people busy celebrating they independence from England July 4th so
most Black folks don’t have to work. Us can spend the day celebrating each
other.”
I remember years
ago, my own family (on the Dove side) driving 12 hours down Interstate 95, from
Philadelphia to South Carolina, to gather by the old homestead in Eastover, to
celebrate the 4th of July. At least one hog had been slaughtered and
barbecued, sometimes as many as two or three. My Dad and my uncles would stay
up all night roasting the pigs on grills they made out of out of 55-gallon
metal drums, adding their secret sauce when they were almost finished cooking. And believe me, the meat was tender and
luscious. There was plenty of potato salad, greens, fried chicken, corn on the
cob, lemonade, cakes, pies and all kinds of delights. The music would be
blaring and at a certain time, all the children gathered around in a circle and
danced, danced, danced, gleefully transforming the dirt into dust with nary a
care in the world.
None of us, neither
the children nor the adults gave a thought about Independence Day from England.
And even as they watched their children twist and turn to the beat of the music
in the dirt, none of the adults were foolish enough to delude themselves into
thinking Blacks were free in America. But we celebrated anyway, knowing that we
were untethered at least for those precious moments, dancing and singing and
talking and eating and laughing on the land our ancestors had bought, cleared,
built up and made home.
For whatever
reason, we don’t gather down there where the old house used to be for the 4th
of July anymore. Since those golden
days, the old house burned down, another one was built and now even that house
has been jettisoned for a newer, prettier, ultra-modern edifice a little
further up on the property. You would
think our family has arrived.
Yet as I sit
here reflecting from my 2016 point of view, I realize that with all the gains
we have made as a race, Blacks in America, (and throughout the Diaspora) still
are not free, still remain disenfranchised, still are no where near
experiencing ubiquitous equity. We still face mountains of injustice on a daily
basis. We are still in the throes of daily warfare, not to mention the utterly
unacceptable fratricide and Black on Black crimes within our own conflicted communities.
We are all very aware there is still, without a doubt, ever-present danger in
our very being Black in this country. We are reverently reminded of too many of
our brave foot soldiers who were lost on the battlefield. Trayvon Martin.
Michael Brown. Sandra Bland. Tamir Rice. Eric Garner. Freddy Grey. Reika Boyd.
Dorian Hunt. And down throughout the ages including Emmett Till and countless
others, too many to name.
Indeed, “The way
to right wrongs is to turn the light of truth upon them,” once wrote the
journalist and anti-lynching activist Ida B. Wells, who was born in 1862 and
died in 1931. Talk about shining light on the truth! Especially on this day, I
am reminded of Fredrick Douglass’ landmark speech, “The Meaning of the Fourth
for the Negro,” presented in Rochester, New York on July 5, 1852. The masterful
orator Douglass told his predominantly white audience, in part:
“…I say it with a sad sense of the
disparity between us. I am not included within the pale of this glorious
anniversary! -The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity and independence,
bequeathed by your fathers, is shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that
brought light and healing to you, has brought stripes and death to me. This
Fourth July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in
fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him to join
you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious irony. Do you
mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak today? If so, there is a
parallel to your conduct. And let me warn you that it is dangerous to copy the
example of a nation whose crimes, towering up to heaven, were thrown down by
the breath of the Almighty, burying that nation in irrevocable ruin! I can today
take up the plaintive lament of a peeled and woe-smitten people!
“…Fellow-citizens, above your national,
tumultuous joy, I hear the mournful wail of millions! whose chains, heavy and
grievous yesterday, are, today, rendered more intolerable by the jubilee shouts
that reach them. To forget them, to pass
lightly over their wrongs, and to chime in with the popular theme, would be treason
most scandalous and shocking, and would make me a reproach before God and the
world. My subject, then, fellow-citizens, is American slavery. I shall see this
day and its popular characteristics from the slave's point of view. Standing
there identified with the American bondman, making his wrongs mine, I do not
hesitate to declare, with all my soul, that the character and conduct of this
nation never looked blacker to me than on this 4th of July! Whether we turn to
the declarations of the past, or to the professions of the present, the conduct
of the nation seems equally hideous and revolting...”
These injustices
notwithstanding, as Maya Angelou so eloquently stated: “And Still I Rise!” So
you go on everybody. In spite of harsh truths about our station in this
country, go on and enjoy this day. Do as Harpo said and “…spend the day
celebrating each other.”
Asante Sana. Peace, Love and Blessings
Always
Pheralyn Dove
July 4, 2016
Philadelphia, PA
