My name is Jamal Story and I am a proud member of the Next Generation Leadership Committee for the International Association of Blacks in Dance. I stand here on behalf of Tiffany Rea-Fisher, artistic director of Elisa Monte Dance as well as one of the architects of this moment. As she was unable to be here in form, she is here in spirit and in these words:
“My name is Tiffany Rea-Fisher, daughter of Karen, daughter of Dorothy, daughter of Sarah, daughter of Edmona Little, my great, great, grandmother born on a plantation in Jackson, Mississippi in the 1800s. I share this with you to remind us of the footsteps that came before us in this civil rights legacy.
As a choreographer, it is my job to tell OUR stories through movement. What I have found in my choreographic journey so far is that our story is not one only of grief, suffering, and pain as it so easily could be, but also one of hope, joy, resilience, and courage.
I believe artists are the keepers of the culture, but I believe Black People Are That Culture. I invite you all to imagine a world where our Black bodies and well-being are valued and loved the way THIS world loves Black Culture. That reality feels far away when police are still taking Black people from this earth with impunity but I think with THIS movement we have the best chance in our lifetimes to initiate a reckoning. To get us one step closer to this idea becoming a reality in America. And then we'll take the next step and then the next.
I assume that our ancestors' reactions on this very day in 1865, when they learned of their newfound freedom, ranged from jubilation to rage and everything in between; and I assume the emotions of all of you here today mirror that spectrum: ranging from jubilation to rage as well.
Have your feelings! Feel your feelings! Our feelings are what make us HUMAN and in the end that is what today stands for, the recognition and treatment of Black people as equal Human beings. The one place I would implore you to avoid is FEAR. Fear is our enemy. Fear has perpetuated stereotypes of black people as "other,” fear has dragged us down and held us back. Fear has replaced chains of slavery with lack of opportunity and school to prison pipelines. Look around and feel the joy of everyone around you. Share that joy that is central to the Human Experience. For with Joy, Hope and Resolve we can make this country and this world a better place for all our people!”
Tiffany is right of course; our entire experience as black people has been a ballet of jubilation and rage. It is why the magnifying of Juneteenth is our most nourishing choreography.
Ralph Ellison, one of the most formidable literary giants of last century and writer of the novel Juneteenth said, “The history of the American Negro is the most intimate part of American history.” The full-throated embrace of Juneteenth as an annual celebration is an embrace of that intimacy. It underscores the permanence of black contribution to an America for which we are muscle and fascia.
In fact by 1979, the year June was designated Black Music Month, this country had already bombed us in Tulsa, hosed us down in Birmingham and front-lined us in Vietnam—all after horns of emancipation, and long before "appropriation" became a hashtag. Juneteenth gives us the moment to celebrate our own music and honor the connection of black artistry from jitterbug to wobble, from a cappella Negro spiritual to Marvin Gaye’s “Got to Give it Up.” Hymns were sung while maps to freedom got cornrowed into slave hair, now protests rhythms are chanted until actual freedom gets braided into America's system.
The fight against white supremacy is not just about justice. It is, as Tiffany says, about the full value of black lives. The march for Juneteenth is about celebrating those lives.
It is about the harmony in our spirits.
It is about the steel in our push.
It is about the warmth in our ingenuity.
It is about us seeing the sunlight in our freedom and the soil in our joy.
It is about celebration, art, remembrance, dance, music, and honor to our ancestors for beginning to hold the seed of freedom in their fingers.
We will carry this seed with the courage and art in our arms.
Ashe.