The Both/And of the Bridge to Liberation
The piece below was shared with the Resonance community on Juneteenth — both in the spirit of celebrating Black joy and in somber recognition of the ways in which the residue of slavery still endures.
Juneteenth is a commemoration of liberation. The anniversary of a day in 1865 when union soldiers delivered news in Galveston, Texas, that the Civil War ended, and that enslaved people were free, two and a half years after the Emancipation Proclamation was issued. It is a day of Black joy and affirmation, and a symbol of resounding Black resilience and power.
It is also a somber recognition of a legacy of enslavement that has forever haunted our nation. A day to honor the ancestors that endured the inhumanity of slavery, and their descendants who’ve endured its echoes in American life — through the prison industrial complex, white supremacy, and structural oppression.
Today, we hold both. Joy and sorrow. Celebration and mourning.
In the last few weeks, we’ve witnessed tens of thousands of people — in all 50 U.S. states and in countries around the world — take to the streets in solidarity with the Movement for Black Lives. Minneapolis city council, in a veto-proof majority, voted to dismantle its police department as calls to defund police have become a groundswell across the country.
At the same time, Black people are still perishing at the hands of police and white supremacy. In our grief for Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and countless others, we now also mourn the deaths of Oluwatoyin Salau, Rayshard Brooks, Robert L. Fuller, Malcolm Harsch, and Dominique Alexander.
We say their names. We mourn the Black Lives lost and honor the growing momentum to make Black Lives Matter. We hold both.
Earlier this week, we witnessed 15,000 protestors in Brooklyn chanting “I believe in Black trans power” in a powerful display of solidarity and strength from the LGBTQ+ community and their co-conspirators. We also received a historic Supreme Court decision enshrining workplace protections for gay and transgender workers into law.
These historic moments came on the heels of a deadly week for our trans sisters. We are grieving the deaths of Riah Milton, Dominique “Rem’Mie” Fells, and Selena Reyes-Hernandez. Let us say their names.
We hold our wins alongside our losses. Our grief alongside our joy. We hold both.
These moments reveal the truth of movement. The both/and is the stuff of revolutions and paradigm shifts and transformation.
It is a bridge — the liminal space between worlds: the one we’ve survived and the one we deserve.
There’s the moment and the movement. And there are many kinds of moments right now…but they are building a movement that is transforming us and the systems we live within.
Today, we hold up the lineage that brought us here, the young people in leadership representing the next generation of possibility, and each of us, holding a piece of what we need, so that Black people are free, and we are all free.
In closing, we offer this poem, Crossing, by Jericho Brown on the bridge to liberation:
Crossing
The water is one thing, and one thing for miles.
The water is one thing, making this bridge.
Built over the water another. Walk it.
Early, walk it back when the day goes dim, everyone
Rising just to find a way toward rest again.
We work, start on one side of the day
Like a planet’s only sun, our eyes straight
Until the flame sinks. The flame sinks. Thank God
I’m different. I’ve figured and counted. I’m not crossing
To cross back. I’m set
On something vast. It reaches
Long as the sea. I’m more than a conqueror, bigger
Than bravery. I don’t march. I’m the one who leaps.
