i grew up in Texas primarily. around the middle of elementary school is when i recall actively celebrating Juneteenth. can’t tell you when didn’t do it earlier than that but i don’t remember it. the one thing i really remember is us doing peaceful things. there may be a barbecue in a local park. there may be a mini festival. there was no violence. it was the safest day to be Black. we didn’t go to work. we didn’t kick it with the melanin deficient. we breathed into Blackness and it was glorious. a few years back when the push to make the holiday official was successful my brother and i were on the phone discussing how the outsiders were about to fuck it up. they have. between the Walmart fiasco and the massively large and diverse celebrations the vibe of the holiday is wrong and it makes me miss home. i’m sure the white folks there enjoy the day off but in the spots i would be they have not invaded or whined about not being included. i’d kill for a long weekend with my family laughing and bathing in our melanin. instead i’m gonna be dodging silly white folks asking silly questions or sharing articles with me about what the formerly enslaved really knew before union soldiers made it to the southern part of Texas. i’d rather spend the day watching my ex fuck someone i can’t stand than deal with that. blah.