What to Black America Is the Fourth of July?

What to Black America Is the Fourth of July?

Inspired by Frederick Douglass' "What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?"

Written by: Candice A. Lucas, EdD, MBA

On July 5, 1852, Frederick Douglass stood at the lectern in Corinthian Hall, Rochester, New York, to deliver what is widely regarded as one of the greatest speeches in American history.

Invited to commemorate the nation's independence, the formerly enslaved abolitionist rose before a celebratory audience and held up a mirror to expose the chasm between America’s ideals and its reality. Douglass asked a question that echoed throughout the hall and remains relevant to this day:

"What, to the American slave, is your Fourth of July?"

His words reflected the contradiction that is America. While Americans celebrated independence, they simultaneously deprived half a million enslaved African Americans of freedom. As fireworks illuminated the sky and patriots proclaimed that liberty had triumphed over tyranny, Black men, women, and children remained in bondage. And while the Declaration of Independence declared that “all men are created equal,” the humanity of enslaved people, whose forced labor helped secure the nation’s wealth and freedom, was being denied.

Douglass’ response was a stunning rebuke to the audience and a challenge to the nation:

"I answer: a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim."

Yet Douglass did not reject the ideals of America. In fact, he believed so deeply in the promise of this nation that he refused to ignore or excuse its hypocrisy.

Today, as we recognize the 250th anniversary of American independence in Rochester, New York, the city Douglass called home, we are compelled to ask a similar question:

“What to Black America is the Fourth of July?”

The answer is not as clear today as it was in 1852.
We are no longer enslaved.
We are no longer being lynched at the whim of white mobs.
We are no longer overtly denied the right to vote.

We have served in the highest halls of power.

We have commanded boardrooms and courtrooms.

We have broken barriers in every field we have dared to pursue.

The descendants of Africans have shaped every part of the American experience, from Frederick Douglass, who challenged the institution of slavery, to Harriet Tubman, who led hundreds out of its bondage. From the sharecroppers who built the agricultural system of the South, to the Black cowboys who tamed the American West. From the scientific brilliance of Charles Drew, whose research transformed modern medicine, to the intellectual might of W. E. B. Du Bois, who championed the educational advancement of Black Americans. From the Tuskegee Airmen, who broke barriers in military aviation, to the Hidden Figures whose mathematical genius helped launch America into space.

The story of America cannot be written without the ink of Black America filling the pen.

Black America is present in every chapter of this nation’s book, not as a footnote, but as a foundation. We built communities from the ashes of oppression and produced generations of leaders who expanded democracy for all. We transformed this country through science, business, military service, the arts, and faith. The culture of Black America has influenced music, literature, athletics, fashion, and politics. From what we eat, to how we speak, to how we move, American life is inseparable from Black creativity and excellence.

This is a testament to the resilience of a people who refuse to allow oppression to define their destiny.

But with all the advancements African descendants have made, there are still startling inequities that plague our communities. Sadly, Black progress doesn’t eliminate racism; it reveals it. Almost every expression of Black liberation has been met with white backlash and an equally determined effort to preserve the racial hierarchy.

• Emancipation was followed by Black Codes.

• Reconstruction was followed by Jim Crow.

• The Civil Rights Movement was followed by mass incarceration.

• Housing stability was followed by redlining.

• Economic advancement was followed by disinvestment.

• The election of the nation's first Black president was followed by the Tea Party movement, racial fear, and the election of a man convicted of 34 felony counts and accused of rape, sexual assault, falsifying business records, racist practices, and causing an insurrection.

America has repeated this pattern so often that we can no longer dismiss it as coincidence. We have no choice but to confront the truth: America remains a nation at war with itself. The original sin of racism upon which this country was founded has not been purged by the passage of time. It has simply adapted, taken new forms, and found new ways to preserve the same inequities.

Today, racism rarely announces itself through burning crosses or segregated water fountains. Instead, it hides itself in unequal schools, disparities in health care, generational wealth gaps, inadequate housing, environmental injustice, inequities in the criminal justice system, and barriers to opportunity. Racism has evolved from primarily interpersonal prejudice into structural inequity. It is this evolution that preserves segregation, separate and unequal, without ever having to say the words.

While this system continues to privilege one race over another, it gives the illusion that everyone is being treated equally. It is this system that allows us to blame individuals for their circumstances rather than the unequal system that created those circumstances in the first place. It is this system that makes it easier for people to ignore the subjugation and mistreatment of Black people and proclaim that we live in a post-racial era.

This is not to suggest that all white people are ignorant of the history or current racial dynamics of this country. Many reject racism, believe in equality, and strive every day to build stronger communities. Throughout our history, they have stood alongside Black Americans as abolitionists, Freedom Riders, civil rights attorneys, protestors, allies, and accomplices. Yet racism persists despite the best intentions of well-meaning individuals. It endures largely due to complacency, silence, and the comfort many experience in their own lives.

But if we are ever to reach the ideal of a more perfect union, we need white Americans to stand up and refuse to be part of a system that continues to advantage them. Good intentions are not enough. We need them to break from complacency and silence. We need white Americans to reckon honestly with how this system is sustained and how they benefit from it, whether knowingly or not. And we need them to act, consistently, boldly, and immediately, to interrupt it wherever it operates.

When there is a lack of leaders of color in an institution, challenge HR to recruit and hire more inclusively. When Black students are not thriving in school, push administrators and educators to examine curriculum, assessment, and support systems. When racial slurs are within earshot, confront individuals directly and speak forcefully against them. When you witness injustice, do not remain silent; speak out.

Because, as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. warned, “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”

But Black America is not just a victim in this story. We must also examine whether we have become complicit in allowing hard-won gains to be eroded. The victories of the Civil Rights Movement created opportunities for our advancement. But did we mistake our progress for permanence? Did we confuse representation with liberation? Or did we believe that the arc of the moral universe would continue to bend toward justice without our efforts to bend it?

Throughout our history, Black Americans have been the thorn in America’s side, pushing the nation to do better and be better. That work is not finished. Every generation inherits the responsibility to protect the progress of the last and expand the possibilities for the next.

Black America cannot rest on the laurels of past generations. We cannot afford to be tired of demanding respect, nor can we step back and leave white people to “do the work” for themselves. We cannot dismiss injustice toward anyone as someone else’s problem. To say, “it’s not our problem” is only to say “it’s not our problem yet”, because history teaches us that we are always affected and consequences are often harsher for us in the end.

That is why we have both a duty and a responsibility to keep pushing forward. The fight for justice is not optional, and it is not over. It requires persistence, urgency, and consistent action.

So, as we celebrate the 250th anniversary of our nation, we must answer the question: What to Black America is the Fourth of July?

I answer:

It is a reckoning with a nation, born of contradiction, that must repair the harm it has caused to its citizens.

It is a call to collective action and a recommitment to the fight for equality with renewed resolve.

It is a recognition that this Independence Day is ours. Regardless of its history, we have fought for our freedom, and we will claim it. We will not cede our citizenship, our humanity, our liberty, or our rights as Americans in this country to anyone.