SERIES | What, to Black Americans, Is the Fourth of July? Part 2

Reflecting on Frederick Douglass' 1852 speech.

In reflection of Independence Day, the South Seattle Emerald reached out to contributors, friends, and community members to respond to Frederick Douglass' speech "What, to the Slave, Is the Fourth of July?"

Delivered in his new hometown of Rochester, New York, Douglass addressed a crowd of citizens on July 5, 1852, with a scathing critique of America celebrating its freedom, while Black people were still in bondage.

The following essays express the views of the authors, all of whom were asked to read the speech and reflect on its message through the lens of present-day society.

You can read Douglass' full speech online at BlackPast.org, and you can find all parts of this series on the Emerald's "What, to Black Americans, Is the Fourth of July?" page.

A Reminder That Freedom Is a Constant Struggle

by nikkita oliver

On July 5, 1852, in Rochester, New York, Frederick Douglass gave his famous speech, "What, to the Slave, Is the Fourth of July?" He was originally invited by the Rochester Ladies Anti-Slavery Society to give a Fourth of July speech, but he opted to speak on July 5. This was significant because 25 years earlier on July 5, 1827, 4,000 African Americans marched on Broadway in New York City celebrating the end of slavery in New York state.

Douglass, an abolitionist, in his speech called the United States to account for its continued iniquitous exploitation and abuse of enslaved Africans nationally. He called the celebration of the Fourth by white Americans an intolerable "tumultuous joy." He drew the audience's attention to the "mournful wails of millions" of enslaved Africans who had no reason to celebrate the independence of a nation built on their backs while denying them their freedom.

As we approach July 4, 2024, the U.S. Supreme Court has just ruled that homelessness can be criminalized and regulatory agencies have even less power to protect us from corporate greed and pollution. We are being forced to choose between two old, wealthy, white guys who will both undoubtedly usher in the climate catastrophe; the genocide of Palestinian, Sudanese, and Congolese peoples and many more global communities; and the mass incarceration and subjugation of Black, Indigenous, and Brown peoples locally. What is there to celebrate for those still struggling for freedom in the United States (on Turtle Island)?

The Fourth of July is a reminder that freedom is a constant struggle. As Angela Davis said in her book Freedom Is a Constant Struggle: Ferguson, Palestine, and the Foundations of a Movement, "Anyway, I don't think we can rely on governments, regardless of who is in power, to do the work that only mass movements can do."

Our hope — our relentless, principled will to fight for what is right — must be in us, the People, to continue the struggle for freedom and justice for all. Mariame Kaba says, "Hope is a discipline." If you celebrate anything, be disciplined in what you glorify. This Fourth of July, or July 5 if it suits you, celebrate the incarcerated loved ones who organize inside of prisons for freedom, the students who march in the streets and occupy buildings to end genocides, the trans youth who fight for gender-affirming health care for us all, the community garden worker, the movement elder, the artist helping us see the expansive possibilities of a world beyond prisons and police, and the mutual aid volunteer. These are a few of the many people who keep our hope alive so that we may one day march in celebration of our collective liberation.

#BlackLivesMatter #FeeThemAll #LandBack #AbolitionNow #FreePalestine

nikkita oliver is a creative, attorney, community organizer, adjunct professor at Seattle University Law School, and executive director of Creative Justice.

A Reminder of How Our Humanity Should Not Be Overlooked

by Monisha Harrell

The Fourth of July is often referred to as Independence Day, without much critical analysis of who benefited from that independence and who was left out. In 1776, the United States would secure its freedom from England, but another 86 years would pass before Black people in the United States would be freed from the tyranny of slavery in the same country founded on the principles of freedom. The irony was not lost on Mr. Frederick Douglass.

There is an unbelievable pain and salve in reading Mr. Douglass' Fourth of July speech. Edited versions focus on the ethos of slavery in the "land of the free," but what is missed is the humanity of those who were still fighting for freedom. Mr. Douglass opens with "He who could address this audience without a quailing sensation, has stronger nerves than I have. … Should I seem at ease, my appearance would much misrepresent me." That vulnerability, that I had not yet seen in the edited versions of his address, resonated with me.

As Black people, we are taught that we are magic as a means of building resiliency and encouraging survival through trauma. However, as it is weaponized, it also strips us of our humanity and allows our oppressors to continue inflicting harm because we are romanticized as stronger and with the abilities to tolerate greater amounts of pain and injustice. Even today, study after study has shown how Black pain is systematically underestimated in almost every setting, from working environments to medical care.

To ask a person born enslaved, whose mother died enslaved, to speak at an Independence Day celebration that didn't include them is cruel. Like asking a hungry person to bless a feast. But Mr. Douglass was expected to do it because he was known as a great orator, and, of course, should be there for the gentry's entertainment. One of our biggest failures is in teaching Black excellence without including the pain of overcoming — the uncertainty, discomfort, or anxiety that makes us human.

Mr. Douglass deliberately included his anxiety in his speech to remind his audience that he, too, was human — and that he, too, desired to be free, as is the human condition. We must stop eliminating humanity from our heroes' stories or we will never realize that we as humans are also capable of, and responsible for, our collective futures. Othering allows us to absolve ourselves of the responsibilities of progressive movement — because we are not as great as our great heroes. And in humanizing the countries' founding fathers in his remarks, Mr. Douglass also called upon his audience to see through the idol worship and better understand their roles in ensuring freedom for others still enslaved in their names.

Still, today, too many people and their humanity are left out of our Fourth of July celebrations. We invite them to watch the feast, while still starving them of freedom and rights. Our Day of Independence should be as much a call to action for our future as it is a reflection of freedom won from the past. Our humanity, the connection that binds us, should not be overlooked as we continue to fight for universal liberation and freedom, or ignored as we enjoy a feast others are still excluded from.

Monisha Harrell is the director of King County's Office of Equity, Racial and Social Justice and has served as a board member for Equal Rights Washington and The National LGBTQ Task Force. Monisha also served as a co-chair for De-Escalate Washington in support of Initiative 940 (2018) to require de-escalation training for all law enforcement officers in Washington State.

A Reminder of Unfulfilled Promises and the Ongoing Struggle

by Rico Quirindongo

"What, to the slave, is the Fourth of July?" This question, famously posed by Frederick Douglass in 1852, continues to resonate today as we examine the legacy of slavery and its lasting impacts on American society.

For a slave, the Fourth of July was a stark reminder of the hypocrisy inherent in a nation celebrating freedom while simultaneously denying it to millions. This contradiction has cast a long shadow, shaping the experiences of Black Americans long after emancipation.

One of the most destructive effects has been the systematic denial of opportunities to build generational wealth. While white Americans benefited from government programs and policies that facilitated homeownership and wealth accumulation, Black Americans were largely excluded. Practices like redlining, which denied mortgages and services to predominantly Black neighborhoods, effectively barred many from homeownership — a key pathway to building equity and passing wealth to future generations.

This exclusion from property ownership, coupled with discriminatory lending practices and limited access to education and high-paying jobs, created a wealth gap that persists to this day. The median white family now holds several times the wealth of the median Black family, a disparity rooted in historical injustices.

Moreover, the legacy of slavery and segregation has resulted in a persistent lack of access to political and economic power. Voter suppression tactics, underrepresentation in government and corporate leadership, and systemic barriers in education and employment have all contributed to a power imbalance that echoes the disenfranchisement of the slave era.

In this context, the Fourth of July serves as a reminder not only of unfulfilled promises, but also of the ongoing struggle for true equality and justice in America.

Rico Quirindongo is the director of the Office of Planning and Community Development (OPCD) for the City of Seattle.

A Reminder to Look Forward to Necessary Change

by Renee Cogdell Lewis

On this Fourth of July, I will spend time with my family and friends having fun, eating, and watching a dazzling display of fireworks light up the Seattle sky. All of this I will do as a proud African American in celebration of America's independence from England. An independence that was gained at the same time my ancestors were being subjected to the cruelties of institutional slavery. While eating my apple pie today, I will contemplate African Americans' existence living in the current political climate of race-baiting and beneath the grim shadow of institutionalized racism, which is slavery's legacy.

Institutional racism, regrettably, makes Frederick Douglass' words from 1852 still relevant about white and African Americans' dual realities regarding the significance of the Fourth of July. It remains true that there is a disparity between the two races and that white Americans continue to enjoy their "rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity and independence, bequeathed by [their] fathers." The aftermath of the George Floyd murder in 2020 brought into sharp focus these continued disparities — the disproportionate number of African Americans murdered at the hands of police, unequal educational and career opportunities, unequal pay, and the disproportionate number of incarcerations of African Americans.

Yes, celebrating the Fourth of July is a complicated matter for African Americans, but we look forward to a Fourth of July when necessary structural changes have been made to our systems, equity exists between white and African Americans, and Douglass' words will no longer be relevant.

Renee Cogdell Lewis is a YWCA board member and co-chair of the YWCA People of Color Executive Council.

The South Seattle Emerald is committed to holding space for a variety of viewpoints within our community, with the understanding that differing perspectives do not negate mutual respect amongst community members.

The opinions, beliefs, and viewpoints expressed by the contributors on this website do not necessarily reflect the opinions, beliefs, and viewpoints of the Emerald or official policies of the Emerald.

Featured Image: Illustration by Vladimir Verano.