By New Black Voices Editorial Board
Every July 4th, America wraps itself in red, white, and blue. Fireworks light the sky, grills fire up, and speeches echo with words like “freedom” and “liberty.” But for many Black Americans, Independence Day feels like a celebration of a promise never kept.
In 1776, when the U.S. declared independence from Britain, Black people were still enslaved. The same founding fathers who wrote about “unalienable rights” owned human beings. So when the nation celebrates its freedom, the obvious question is: Whose freedom was it then? And whose freedom is it now?
This isn’t about being unpatriotic. It’s about being honest. Race and racism are woven into America’s DNA, and ignoring that truth does a disservice to the struggle of Black people who have fought for justice on the battlefield, in the streets, and at the ballot box.
Frederick Douglass made this plain in 1852 when he asked, “What to the slave is the Fourth of July?” His answer: a day that reveals the “gross injustice and cruelty” of a country that celebrates freedom while denying it to millions. More than 170 years later, his words still hit hard.
Today, America still grapples with the weight of systemic racism. From mass incarceration to police brutality, from racial wealth gaps to underfunded schools, the Black community continues to fight for rights that were never truly granted in full. So when the fireworks go off, some of us feel pride, but many of us feel pain.
And yet, we’ve never stopped fighting. Black people have consistently held this country accountable. We were never just victims—we’ve been visionaries, activists, builders, soldiers, scholars, and change-makers. We’ve fought in every American war, led every civil rights movement, and redefined what freedom means.
Independence Day is layered for us. It’s not just about what happened in 1776—it’s about 1865, 1964, 2020, and every year in between where we’ve demanded our humanity be recognized. It’s about remembering that Black liberation is inextricably linked to American liberation. Our fight has always moved this country forward.
So, what should July 4th mean for us?
It’s a day to reflect on how far we’ve come—and how far we still have to go. A day to tell our stories louder. A day to challenge a history that too often erases us. And a day to imagine a future where freedom isn’t reserved for the privileged, but extended to everyone.
Conclusion
America can’t claim to be the land of the free while injustice still reigns. For Black America, Independence Day is not just a holiday—it’s a reminder, a reckoning, and a call to action. Until liberty and justice are more than just slogans, we’ll keep speaking the truth.
Because freedom—real freedom must include the Black race, or it means nothing at all.