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.
by Ben Danielson
Examining Independence Day will bother some people. Some prefer to focus on warm family experiences. Others want to affirm their national pride. A short response: We shouldn't need a holiday to have warm moments, and pride without understanding is dangerous.
Independence Day is about distraction. Fireworks are a proxy for "Bombs bursting in air." Fireworks say, "Look up! Don't focus on things happening on the ground." The holiday is asking us to not ask questions.
What questions? Things like, "Independence for whom?" and "What do we mean by independence?"
Frederick Douglass took this up on July 5, 1852.
Douglass starts: "Why am I called upon to speak here to-day?" Then asks if he's supposed to be grateful for what Blacks got when whites declared independence.
He says, "I am not included in the pale of this glorious anniversary!" He continues, "You may rejoice, I must mourn." He hears a mournful wail, louder than a celebratory cheer or booming fireworks.
The mournful wail continues today, even as we are sold tales of scarcity when it comes to that which is due Black people: true reparations. Even as we suffer other forms of enslavement while some call for more police militarization and more incarceration.
Douglass said, "America is false to the past, false to the present, and solemnly binds herself to be false to the future." As true today as it was then.
Toward the end, Douglass expresses optimism, saying past outrages are not sustainable and that new energies are developing.
This is where Douglass got it wrong, for he would be devastated to awaken today and find that the past outrages have been sustained or, worse, ignored. And that "new energies" are undone by performative gestures and the easy distraction of bright, meaningless explosions in the sky.
Despite this, I do share Douglass' optimism. I do believe there is an under-tapped well of passion, a wealth of brilliance, particularly in our Black communities. I do believe that this energy, this power, is more inspiring than luminous fake bombs. I do believe that we can love a country, disdain its history and want it to be so much more.
Dr. Benjamin Danielson, a clinical professor of pediatrics at UW Medicine, is a community leader in health equity.
by Michele Storms
Someone recently asked me how I continue the work for civil liberties and civil rights — they wanted to know if I get burned out. Yes, sometimes I am tired but the fire for freedom never cools. Frederick Douglass lived and witnessed slavery in the United States. Today, I witness and experience the ways in which many are still unfree. As this country celebrates July Fourth, we remember that the colonies claimed independence at the expense of Indigenous lives and land. Black slave labor fueled our young nation's prosperity.
Today, freedom remains under siege. Pregnant people in some states cannot make choices about their bodies and their pregnancies, nor can our trans siblings obtain gender-affirming health care. Inflated narratives around public safety fuel mass incarceration, which disproportionately impacts Black, Brown, and Indigenous people. In Washington State, draconian sentencing laws consign people to life sentences and long prison terms for crimes they committed as teenagers. Last month, the United States Supreme Court determined that it is not cruel and unusual punishment to criminally penalize people for sleeping outside — even when they have nowhere else to go.
Whether we talk about the vestiges of slavery and colonialism or look at today's forms of oppression, freedom is still denied to too many.
For me, the fire continues to burn even brighter to fight for the rights of all of us. I affirm Frederick Douglass' brilliant words, which ring true today, and remain committed to our collective liberation.
Michele Storms is the executive director of the ACLU of Washington.
by Guadalupe Mabry
You will not catch me in red, white, and blue this Fourth of July, or any day of the week for that matter. From a young age, I was aware that the Fourth was not a celebration meant for me.
Upon first reading Fredrick Douglass' reflections on the holiday in high school, I felt immediately understood. Its relevance haunts me around this time every year.
But this year, it speaks to me more than ever.
This speech speaks to the heart of our shared journey toward liberation. It condemns the hypocrisy of those who celebrate the Fourth of July while also inciting hope for the future.
While the disparities Douglass spoke on remain clear in the ways in which we experience housing insecurity, the vastness of food apartheid in our communities, maternal mortality, and so many more facets of our lives, our joy and hope for the future should not be forgotten.
We continue to live in divisive times. But it is critical that we — as Douglass said — do not fall into despair. I and so many others are reminded daily of the "gross injustice and cruelty" we and generations of our kin have endured. We must remember our past and forge a future rooted in our joy, liberation, and community care. Douglass' analysis of the blood on our nation's hands has stood the test of time. And while we must now navigate systems beyond slavery, we must do so together.
Guadalupe Mabry (she/they) is a sister, doula, organizer, auntie, advocate, and educator. Raised by parents deeply engaged in the movement, Guadalupe is a community-rooted strategic organizer who brings a thoughtful lens to the work of race and social justice. Guadalupe actively works at the grassroots level to fight for farmworkers' rights, advocate for reproductive freedom, and coordinate mutual aid for those excluded from vital resources.
by Brianna Thomas
248 years old. That's how old "America" will be this Fourth of July, and the question posed is are Black people freer than they were when Fredrick Douglas addressed the Rochester Ladies Anti-Slavery Society? Simply, no.
We are not freer to own land due to the persistent legacy of redlining. Black women still are not free to control our own bodies — cis, trans, or otherwise. Code-switching, which remains necessary and central to our survival, means we don't own our ideas, or at least the form of their distribution, without invoking some penalty. We are not free to shape our own futures without the impact of the pervasive pressure of "dominant white culture." We do not have access to free or fair elections. And in the face of the connotative definition of freedom, we remain disproportionately incarcerated. From sea to shining sea, Black people are not free.
It's not because we aren't capable of these things, capable of more than "Black jobs." It's not because we haven't made any progress in these areas. It is because "America" is working exactly how it was designed to. Built on exclusion and oppression, intimidation and hate, these United States weren't ever meant to be united.
But all is not lost. This November our country will again have to answer the question of whether or not we want to turn the page on a history of separate and unequal. I humbly ask that you, and you may not want to, participate in this opportunity, and vote.
Brianna Thomas is a fourth-generation public servant.
by Ed Taylor
In 1852 Frederick Douglass gave one of his most important speeches, which complicated the celebration of American independence, "What, to the Slave, Is the Fourth of July?"
Context was critical then and is now, Douglass said. "The distance between this platform and the slave plantation, from which I escaped, is considerable — and the difficulties to be overcome in getting from the latter to the former, are by no means slight."
Nearly two centuries after Douglass's speech, the distance between the freedom we now celebrate and the lived experience of Black people is still considerable. For example, Black people today make up about 38% of the prison population and only 12% of U.S. residents. Black children are more than twice as likely to live in poverty as white children. African American women disproportionately experience death and trauma during childbirth. Even today, we can ask, as Douglass did, how their words might diverge from the words of those who celebrate "liberty and justice for all."
Douglass invited us to tell the truth and to close the distance between the promise of our nation and the lived reality. He found reason to hope for the future even as he would "pour out a fiery stream of biting ridicule, blasting reproach." He saw a future worth fighting for.
I am haunted by the sounds that haunted him: "Above your national tumultuous joy, I hear the mournful wail of millions!" The sunlight that brought light and healing to some, brought death and suffering to others. I am haunted, but I am of the blood, dreams, hope, and glory of my ancestry. I remain hopeful, as they were.
Dr. Ed Taylor, vice provost and dean of Undergraduate Academic Affairs at the University of Washington, oversees educational opportunities that advance and deepen the undergraduate academic experience including First Year Programs, experiential learning programs, academic advising and support, educational assessment and the Honors Program. Taylor is a professor in the College of Education, and his research and teaching center on comparative education in the U.S. and South Africa, moral dimensions of education and integrative education, and leadership in education and social justice. Taylor earned his Ph.D. in educational leadership and policy studies from the UW.
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.
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Before you move on to the next story …
The South Seattle Emerald™ is brought to you by Rainmakers. Rainmakers give recurring gifts at any amount. With around 1,000 Rainmakers, the Emerald™ is truly community-driven local media. Help us keep BIPOC-led media free and accessible.
If just half of our readers signed up to give $6 a month, we wouldn’t have to fundraise for the rest of the year. Small amounts make a difference.
We cannot do this work without you. Become a Rainmaker today!