top of page

Juneteenth. It’s Not About Being Woke.

I understand that Juneteenth has already passed, and I wrote about it earlier this month. However, I bring it up again this week because I believe that this is part of the problem with race in the US. We allow important days meant to mark freedom and greater equity to pass without much thought. Perhaps we could take some time to collectively consider how we’re doing in gaining freedom for all.


Purple neon Freedom sign with black background
Photo by Kristina V on Unsplash

When discussing topics like Juneteenth, race, racism, and equity, I’ve noticed a pattern. Some people are eager to move on from these topics quickly. Others accuse me of insincerity and derail the conversation by calling me names and tossing out insults. They question my motives and suggest that my desire to focus on these things is just for show.


Recently, while discussing racism, someone accused me of only speaking and writing about race to sound “woke” or trendy. To clarify, my goal is not to portray a certain image or appear “woke.” I write and talk about these issues because it is necessary. Juneteenth serves as a powerful reminder of this fact.


Throughout my 12 years of public school education, most of which took place in a state largely occupied and run by white people, I was never taught about Juneteenth or its significance. Even as an undergraduate at a predominantly white private institution, I never learned about what happened on June 19, 1865, or the role that white people played in it. In graduate school, where I was preparing to enter the counseling profession mostly made up of white practitioners, we didn’t discuss important topics like what it means to be white in America and how that relates to days such as Juneteenth. It’s hard not to feel that crucial parts of the American story of race and racism, like this one, were deliberately left out of my formal education.


I cannot let Juneteenth pass without acknowledging what happened on that day in 1865, and how racial inequity has persisted since then. Additionally, I must address the tactics that white people use to maintain this inequity. The story of Juneteenth involves multiple players, as does the rest of America’s racial history. Unfortunately, the exegesis of race that I was taught heavily relied on the white experience and perception, while disregarding the voices and experiences of others. I have since come to understand that, in the US, we have established practices that deliberately render certain people and struggles invisible.


I write and speak about race and racism because I feel a need to do so. For too long, I have ignored and misunderstood these issues. My understanding of the history of race in my country, including the origins of the concept of “white” and how race shapes our identities, is severely lacking. The bits of information I have encountered are overwhelmingly one-sided and shallow. The more I learn about how the history of race has unfolded over time and how it continues to be told, the more convinced I am that days like Juneteenth should not simply pass without taking time to reflect and gain a deeper understanding of what really happened, why it happened, and how it continues to impact us today.


My desire to acknowledge the harm caused by racialization, understand how we perpetuate it, and make amends seems to trouble many people. It appears that it is not the word “woke” itself that is so repugnant that some consider it an insult. Rather, it is the desire to expose and discontinue the ways in which we have historically denied the full story of race in the US that upsets people.


When someone calls me “woke” to my face, I suggest to them that if the word, or their understanding of the word, disturbs them, then maybe they shouldn’t use it. As white people, we might want to avoid using this word altogether. Its original meaning and usage came from a different community, and it’s not ours to appropriate.


I want to offer an alternate explanation for why I discuss race and racism. I don’t have a specific term for what I’m doing, but I know my reasons for doing it. I bring up race and racism to unpack our collective history, address how I’ve been working with an incomplete story of race, and figure out how we can improve things today. If you need to label me, please choose a different word.


For me, it’s not about performing “wokeness.” It’s about healing. When I acknowledge how my people and I have caused harm to others, how we’ve injured ourselves with this brutal skin-color-based system, and how we were the ones who created race-based inequity, I no longer block the path to healing. Moreover, when I work to make amends for the harm I’ve caused or that was established with the invention and perpetuation of whiteness, and work to dismantle racial hierarchy, I help facilitate the healing process. The white dominance woven throughout American culture and social structures is a form of violence. By acknowledging and addressing this cruelty, I find healing and can make way for others to heal.


I write and speak about these topics because the legacy of whiteness is deeply intertwined with my story. I need to examine how white people throughout history have responded with ferocity to Juneteenth and other steps towards freedom for all, and how I’m tied to and influenced by that legacy. I must recognize how white people have hoarded liberty and resources, and the ways in which I myself am prone to doing this. It’s important to acknowledge how we white folks have rewritten the story to make ourselves the emancipators and excavate the parts of my story that are tangled up with fables about white saviors. I need to remember and respond to this legacy of whiteness, or else I will perpetuate it. That is why I write and talk about race and racism.


As June comes to a close and many in the US prepare to celebrate July 4th, it’s important to acknowledge that we still have work to do in the “liberty and justice for all” department. It’s time to recognize that building equity for all is an ongoing effort, and that addressing the pervasive brutality of racism should not be met with insult or contempt. Rather, it should be an everyday, ordinary practice in a country that claims to be one of the greatest on earth.

8 views0 comments

Comments


bottom of page