No One Is Free Until All Are Free
The natural two-week arc between Juneteenth and July 4th should be celebrated like the Christmas holidays.
The truth is, we didn’t think about slavery very much when I was growing up. Didn’t talk about it too much, either.
Every once in a while, Aunt Maxine would change the lyrics to Disney’s Davy Crockett theme song, calling Tennessee the “meanest state in the land of the free” instead of the greenest one.
But my mother shushed her when she said things like that. Neither of my parents wanted our minds poisoned by America’s past sins before we had a chance to figure out who we were, got ourselves grounded.
Slavery was off the radar
Except that my mother instilled in us a great deal of anti-slave behavior. We didn’t understand why it was so important to her that we never lower our eyes to a white person. Or call any of them sir or ma’am. A simple yes or no would suffice, she said, as long as you said it with respect. And always sit up straight, never slouching, and speak English like you owned every word.
Of course, we did wonder about the old lady who moved in next door to us. That was Miss Jones. She was missing one arm, but that didn’t stop her from tending to the…
