T'was the night before Juneteenth, and all through South
Not a creature was stirring, even in the Big House
The Confederate traitors weren't even aware
That Black Union soldiers soon would be there.
Black people were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of freedom danced in their heads.
Mamma had on her bonnet, my durag was tight
After a long summer day of dealing with whites,
When outside the cabin there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Like a slave catcher was coming after my ass.
I looked through the window at the fields below.
If I didn't pick cotton, I might've thought it was snow
When what to my wondering eyes did appear
But U.S. Colored Troops grinning ear to ear
One had a paper that said "General Order No. 3"
And I know what you're thinking; yes, I can read.
Faster than eagles, the Black soldiers came
As we gathered around him, he began to proclaim
That based on orders from his commander-In-chief
he wanted to inform us that "all slaves are free."
He said: "This involves absolute equality
of personal rights and rights of property,
between former masters" and the enslaved...
If we stay and worked, we'd start getting paid.
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
Such was the Black joy that climbed up to the clouds
We were singing and dancing and praying aloud
And then, in a twinkling, I heard a someone say
"We should never forget to remember this day."
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
I saw a man walking into the crowd.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his feet
Which was crazy in Texas's midsummer heat.
His afro was so huge that it made him look taller
Like he and Fredrick Douglass went to the same barber
His eyes—how they twinkled, yet still tougher than leather
His cheeks were like chocolate, his nose like a bell pepper!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke that came out smelled a little like weed.
He had a broad face and a little round belly
Like, he works out sometimes, but sometimes gets the munchies
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old uncle
But I could tell he would fight if he was ever disgruntled
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He said: "I know we're celebrating, so I won't be a jerk"
We can party tonight, but we gotta get to work.
"What are you talking about?" I heard someone say.
"We're slaves, remember? We work every day!"
"That's true, my brother," the old man said with a grin.
"I'm not saying you didn't work; I'm saying it was for them.
They stole our labor and brilliance for 200 years
And just look what they've built off our blood, sweat and tears.
But the fruit of our labor now belongs to us
Let's build ourselves the country they only dreamed of.
They only said all men are created equal; we could actually do it
We might need to amend that old racist constitution.
And voting rights for all with equal access to education
We could build BCUs (we'll add "historically later")
Hell, we could build a real democracy with universal suffrage
I know that sounds crazy, but did you see what we just did!
We're free motherfuckers! Anything is possible!
So let's party tonight, but tomorrow we get started.
Then, he raised one Black fist into the moonlight
And giving a nod, he rode into the night.
As he disappeared into the darkness, I could hear people whisper
And asking the name of the mysterious figure
We figured it an ancestor named "Uncle Juneteenth"
Then a white man ran up and began to weep
With eyes full of white tears and misery in his voice
"A slave dressed in fur just stole my horse!"
I felt sorry for the man, and could tell he was enraged
So I told him the truth. I didn't see no slave."
Just as I finished, a voice whipped through the prairie
“What the hell is Juneteenth? I'm the Reparations Fairy!" Today’s Reading List:
Primary Sources: Everything You Know About Juneteenth Is Wrong by Michael Harriot
Lender Automation and Racial Disparities in Credit Access by Sabrina T. Howell, Theresa Kuchler, David Snitkof, Johannes Strobel and Jun Wong
How Black Resistance Stole Christmas by Michael Harriot
An Exclusive Interview With an Organizer of the Original Juneteenth Cookout by Michael Harriot
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