Connecting the Dots: Emancipation, Resistance, and the Unfinished Business of Freedom
Introduction: This Isn’t Just History. It’s a Warning.
The arc of Black liberation doesn’t run in a straight line—it loops, bends, and bleeds. From May to July, we cross a battlefield of anniversaries—Haitian Flag Day, Malcolm X’s centennial, Florida’s Emancipation Day, Juneteenth, July 4th, and the 13th Amendment. These are not feel-good moments for social media clout. They are radical reminders: freedom is fragile, incomplete, and always under attack.
As Florida and the broader U.S. roll back civil rights, criminalize truth-telling, and target marginalized communities under the guise of “patriotism,” we’re called to connect the dots between then and now. This isn’t a drill—it’s déjà vu.
The Dates That Define Us—And Demand Us
May 18: Haitian Flag Day
Born from the ashes of colonialism in 1803, Haiti’s flag was stitched together as a declaration of war against white supremacy. They didn’t just dream of freedom—they took it, and paid in blood. Haiti reminds us that true liberation doesn’t come from paperwork—it comes from revolution.
May 19: Malcolm X Turns 100
Malcolm X saw through the lies of American exceptionalism. He knew that racism was global, structural, and moral rot at the center of the empire. His vision was uncompromising, and his centennial should challenge us to reject watered-down justice. Are we brave enough to speak like Malcolm? Organize like Malcolm?
May 20: Florida Emancipation Day & Toussaint Louverture’s Birthday
In Florida, emancipation came late—May 20, 1865—and it still feels delayed. Meanwhile, Louverture, born May 20, 1743, laid the blueprint for global Black revolt. His legacy reminds us: freedom is not inevitable. It's strategic. It's fought for.
June 19: Juneteenth
Juneteenth wasn’t a celebration—it was a reckoning. Two and a half years after emancipation was declared, Texas finally acknowledged it. Juneteenth shows us that white power will delay, distort, and deny justice unless forced to do otherwise.
July 4: Independence for Whom?
1776 declared “all men are created equal,” while Black bodies were chained to the foundation of the nation. Independence Day is a contradiction. Until Black lives are truly free, the Fourth of July is unfinished business.
December 6: The 13th Amendment
Slavery was abolished—except as punishment for a crime. That loophole became mass incarceration. The prison-industrial complex is slavery in a new outfit. Let’s stop pretending otherwise.
Our History is a Mirror
These anniversaries don’t just tell us where we’ve been—they show us how much further we must go. They expose a nation built on selective freedom, weaponized law, and racial control. Today’s attacks on DEI, voting rights, public education, and reproductive freedom are not new—they are part of the same playbook that delayed Juneteenth and turned emancipation into loopholes.
Call to Action: Pick Up the Torch
This isn’t about nostalgia. This is about power. Here’s what you can do:
- Tell the Truth: Teach the real history. Say the hard things. Refuse whitewashed versions of freedom.
- Join Local Movements: Find a group doing the work. Volunteer, show up, donate. Be the disruption.
- Hold the Line: Demand justice from your school board to the Senate. They work for you—make them prove it.
- Create Spaces for Real Talk: Host an Awkward Dinner or Unity360 Dialogue. Change happens face to face, not just in hashtags.
Closing: Freedom Is Not a Memory—It’s a Mandate
We stand on the shoulders of revolutionaries who bled, organized, and rose up for a freedom they couldn’t always taste. It’s our turn now. Don’t just commemorate—agitate. Don’t just learn—act. Because the dots aren’t just connected—they’re calling us forward.
“Freedom is never granted; it is won. Justice is never given; it is exacted.” — A. Philip Randolph
Let’s rise, South Florida. And let’s mean it.
As we welcomed 2025, I stood in a stranger's home, surrounded by family and friends, reflecting on the wisdom shared by the host during a midnight sermon. Their message centered on Proverbs 18:21: "Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit." These words, resonating deeply with me, evoked memories of Dr. Tameka Bradley Hobbs’ powerful speech at a South Florida People of Color (SFPoC) event years ago. Both moments left an indelible mark, shaping my understanding of the profound responsibility we carry through our words.
The Transformative Power of Words
Words shape our reality. They can build bridges or erect walls, foster understanding or perpetuate harm. In a time marked by increasing political divisiveness and social unrest, the power of speech becomes a critical tool for change. As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. reminded us, “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” Silence in the face of injustice is complicity. This New Year, I am reminded that every conversation, every utterance, holds the potential to affirm life or deny it.
Building Communities Through Dialogue
At SFPoC, we have witnessed firsthand the transformative power of courageous conversations. Our programs, from the award-winning Unity360 Community Dialogues to the Awkward Dinner series, provide spaces for people from diverse backgrounds to engage in meaningful discussions. These initiatives do more than just foster understanding; they empower participants to challenge systemic inequities and embrace inclusivity.
In 2024 alone, our work touched thousands of lives through events, e-newsletters, and social media. Each dialogue brought us closer to a shared vision of equity and inclusion. However, as we look to 2025, the stakes are higher than ever. The resurgence of divisive rhetoric and policies threatens to unravel the progress we have made.
The Cost of Silence
The political landscape we face today demands action, not apathy. Words have the power to create or destroy, to uplift or oppress. During the first Trump administration, we witnessed how harmful rhetoric fueled division and perpetuated systemic oppression. As we prepare for his return to power, the urgency to speak truth to power has never been greater. This moment calls for more than just well-meaning intentions; it requires vocal advocacy and decisive action.
A Call to Action
As we step into 2025, I urge you to join us in harnessing the power of speech to create change. By supporting SFPoC, you contribute to a movement that prioritizes dialogue, education, and advocacy. Together, we can combat the divisive forces threatening our communities and work toward a more just and equitable society.
To our donors who supported us in 2024, especially during our year-end fundraising campaign, we extend our deepest gratitude. Your generosity fuels our mission and sustains our work. Because of you, we continue to create spaces for healing and understanding, even in the most challenging times.
Moving Forward
Proverbs 18:21 reminds us of the immense responsibility we hold. As we navigate this new year, let us choose to speak life into our communities, to challenge injustice with courage, and to build a foundation for equity and inclusivity through our words and actions. Life and death truly are in the power of the tongue. Let us use that power to inspire, to unite, and to create lasting change.
Introduction: No Surprise in the System’s Success
Once again, America has shown us exactly who it is. For anyone holding onto the illusion of innocence or progress, this election is a wake-up call. The outcome isn't a fluke or a departure from America's core values—it's a reflection of them. As painful as it may be, we must abandon the naïve idea that America is somehow better than this, that its roots aren’t deeply tangled in white supremacy, patriarchy, and systemic oppression. Only by recognizing this history and reckoning with it can we hope to build a society where unity and liberation are possible for everyone.
Historical Foundations of Systemic Oppression
To understand where we are, we have to look back to where it all started. The American story didn’t begin with freedom; it began with conquest. In 1493, the Doctrine of Discovery offered theological justification for claiming lands and subjugating non-Christian peoples, setting the stage for centuries of systematic oppression. This doctrine provided a foundation for colonial expansion and, ultimately, the establishment of a nation built on forced labor, stolen land, and the disenfranchisement of anyone not deemed “worthy” by the white Christian elite. This foundational violence laid the groundwork for the systems that continue to govern us today.
The Codification of Racism in Law and Society
From the very beginning, American law has systematically encoded racial discrimination into its fabric. This didn’t just happen in the South with Jim Crow laws but in every corner of the country. Laws that kept Black people out of neighborhoods, restricted job opportunities, and segregated schools weren’t accidents—they were calculated tools to preserve white supremacy. These policies reinforced the violence and terror of the Jim Crow era, where lynchings served as brutal warnings against challenging the power structure. Today, many of these same biases continue to shape how resources are distributed, who is policed, and who is given a fair chance in life.
Immigration as a Tool of White Supremacy
Our immigration system, too, was designed with the express purpose of upholding white supremacy. From the beginning, naturalization was restricted to a “free white person” of “good character.” This requirement wasn’t an aside; it was a clear declaration of America’s racial priorities. Over time, while immigration policies have shifted to meet economic demands, they have largely continued to privilege whiteness. Immigrants have been used for labor and discarded when no longer useful, an exploitative practice that reflects America’s consistent disregard for non-white lives.
Gender Oppression: Patriarchy in America
America’s patriarchal roots run deep, shaping not only family structures but also access to power and opportunity. For generations, men have held political, economic, and cultural power, while women were pressured into domestic roles. In the 1950s, the model of the nuclear family was promoted as superior, reinforcing the idea that women’s place was in the home, not in positions of influence. Even into the mid-twentieth century, women couldn’t open bank accounts without a husband’s signature. Despite gains, these systems persist today, perpetuating gender inequality in ways both obvious and insidious.
Modern Manifestations of Systemic Oppression
These historical structures aren’t just relics of the past—they actively shape our present:
- Racial discrimination continues to fuel socioeconomic disparities.
- The criminal justice system disproportionately targets and punishes people of color.
- Housing policies keep neighborhoods segregated and economically unequal.
- Immigration policies still favor certain racial groups, prioritizing “acceptable” immigrants over others.
These issues aren’t new; they’re continuations of the same structures that have governed America since its inception. Each injustice is a reminder that these systems are not broken—they’re functioning exactly as designed.
The Cycle of Complicity: Maintaining the Status Quo
Perhaps most troubling is the cycle of complicity that keeps these systems intact. Those who are oppressed are sometimes pulled into these systems as a means of survival, and that survival is often framed as complicity. Some immigrants, desperate for acceptance, may align themselves with white supremacy. Some women, under pressure to “keep the peace,” may reinforce patriarchal norms. This dynamic isn’t a failure of individuals; it’s a testament to the power of these structures and how deeply they’re ingrained in society.
Conclusion: Liberation through Unity and Acknowledgment
The path forward is clear but not easy. We need to reject the illusion that America was ever innocent and recognize that only by confronting the truth of our history can we begin to dismantle the systems that continue to harm us. This requires unity—not the shallow unity of ignoring our differences but the transformative unity of working together across communities to create a society where justice is real. Liberation for all demands this acknowledgment and this effort. The time for believing in a “better America” is over. Now, we need to demand it.
The Underdog Effect: Why SFPoC’s Arts and Culture Impact Deserves to Be Seen
Every year, South Florida People of Color (SFPoC) submits grant applications alongside Miami’s most celebrated arts and culture organizations. Every year, we’re told “no.” But what if the real story is the one that doesn’t fit the mold?
SFPoC is more than an arts group, a DEI consultancy, or a history club—we are an arts and culture organization in the fullest sense. Our work blends artistic expression, historical storytelling, and facilitated dialogue to honor the diverse cultures of South Florida. We don’t just present art—we create cultural experiences that heal, connect, and empower communities. This holistic approach is essential for building equity, resilience, and true community transformation.
Real Impact, Real Voices
Our programs—like the award-winning Awkward Dinners, Unity360 Dialogues, and Redline Historical Bus Tours—aren’t passive events; they’re immersive, challenging, and deeply personal. This is where arts and culture meet action, and where communities are transformed—not just entertained.
Here’s what our community says:
- “Educational, Enlightening, Entertaining.”
- “I had such a great time and truly felt embraced by the community, even as someone from out of town. Black love is powerful, inviting, and transcendent.”
- “Great event—needs to be more events like this in South Florida.”
- “Interesting facts mixed with personal stories make this essential learning and the best way to do that.”
- “Everyone should take this tour who lives in Miami!”
Why Are We Overlooked?
Despite these powerful outcomes, SFPoC is often passed over for funding. Why? Because our work doesn’t fit neatly into a single category. We’re not just putting on concerts or displaying art. We’re using arts and culture as bridges to honest conversation, self-examination, and community healing. Our events are where people learn not only about others, but about themselves—where they confront bias, celebrate culture, and build new connections that last long after the event ends.
The Power of the Underdog
Being the underdog means we have to work harder to be understood—but it also means we’re doing something different, something essential. We don’t measure success by ticket sales or gallery attendance. We measure it in changed minds, new friendships, and the courage to have difficult conversations.
A Call to See Us Clearly
SFPoC’s story is one of resilience, creativity, and impact that goes beyond the surface. We invite funders, community leaders, and neighbors to experience our arts and culture programming firsthand. Come to an event, listen to our participants, and see the transformation for yourself. Don’t just support what’s familiar—support what’s necessary.
Because sometimes, the most powerful change comes from the underdog.
Written by Roni Bennett, Executive Director, South Florida People of Color
In his first two weeks as president, Donald Trump has signed a flurry of executive orders, some aimed at rolling back civil rights advancements and purging the federal government of diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives, more commonly known as DEI.
“The Biden Administration forced illegal and immoral discrimination programs, going by the name ‘diversity, equity, and inclusion’ (DEI), into virtually all aspects of the Federal Government, in areas ranging from airline safety to the military,” Trump’s Jan. 20 Executive Order states.
We The People
America's Unfinished Journey Toward Liberty and Justice for All
Written by: Roni Bennett, Executive Director
South Florida People Of Color
The question of whether the United States has a tiered system of freedom, where different Americans experience varying levels of liberty and rights, goes to the heart of the ongoing struggle to live up to the nation's founding ideals of equality and justice for all.
On the surface, the principles enshrined in the Constitution and Bill of Rights, including the First Amendment's protection of free speech and assembly, are supposed to apply equally to all citizens, regardless of their race, gender, class, or political beliefs. The notion that these freedoms are inalienable and universal is a core tenet of the American creed, a promise that has inspired generations of activists and reformers to push the country to expand the circle of inclusion and opportunity.
However, the lived reality for many Americans has long fallen short of this lofty rhetoric. From the earliest days of the republic, when the blessings of liberty were explicitly denied to enslaved people, Indigenous nations, and women, to the present-day disparities in policing, voting access, and economic mobility, the experience of freedom has been profoundly shaped by one's identity and social position. In practice, if not always in law, America has indeed had a tiered system, where the ability to exercise one's rights and enjoy the full benefits of citizenship has been conditioned on factors like skin color, gender, wealth, and conformity to dominant cultural norms.
The current backlash against protest movements and voting rights, often led by right-wing political forces, is in many ways a continuation of this pattern, an attempt to preserve a status quo that privileges some voices and interests over others. By demonizing activists and imposing new barriers to the ballot box, these efforts seek to constrict the scope of permissible dissent and participation, effectively creating a hierarchy of citizenship where some have a greater say than others in shaping the direction of the country.
This is not to suggest that America's freedoms are illusory or that progress is impossible. The story of the United States is also one of courageous struggles to make the promise of liberty a reality for all, from the abolition of slavery and the women's suffrage movement to the civil rights era and the fight for LGBTQ+ equality. Repeatedly, ordinary people have harnessed the power of protest, organizing, and civic engagement to challenge entrenched systems of oppression and demand a seat at the table. And while these gains have often been partial and fragile, they have nonetheless transformed the nation's laws, institutions, and cultural norms in profound ways.
But as the current moment makes clear, this process of expanding freedom is not a one-way street, and it is never complete. Each generation must renew the fight to defend and extend the rights that earlier activists worked so hard to secure, and to resist the inevitable backlash from those who benefit from a more exclusionary social order.
In this sense, the apparent paradox of a nation that prides itself on being the beacon of liberty yet tolerates glaring inequities in the distribution of that liberty, is not an aberration but a central tension in the American experiment. It reflects the unfinished business of living up to our founding creed, the gap between the soaring rhetoric of freedom and the messy realities of power and privilege.
Ultimately, the question is not whether the United States will ever achieve a perfect union, but whether it will continue to strive towards that ideal, however halting and imperfect the progress may be. This requires a constant willingness to confront hard truths, to listen to the voices of the marginalized and oppressed, and to use the tools of democracy - protest, dissent, organizing, voting - to hold the powerful accountable and push for a more just and equitable society.
It also demands a recognition that freedom is not a fixed endpoint but an ongoing struggle, a collective work that requires the vigilance and commitment of every generation. As the great civil rights leader Fannie Lou Hamer put it, "Nobody's free until everybody's free." This is the challenge and the promise of the American experiment, the unfinished task of making the blessings of liberty real for all who call this nation home.
In an era when these values are under assault from those who seek to turn back the clock and restrict the boundaries of belonging, it falls to all Americans of conscience to resist this narrowing of our national promise. This means standing up for the right to protest and dissent, even when the causes may be unpopular or controversial. It means fighting efforts to suppress the vote or dilute the political power of marginalized communities. And it means nurturing a culture of empathy, solidarity, and shared responsibility, one that recognizes that our fates are bound together and that no one is truly free until all are free.
This is no easy task, especially in a time of deep polarization and social upheaval. But as earlier generations of freedom fighters have shown us, change is possible when ordinary people come together to demand it, when they refuse to accept the status quo as inevitable or just. In the end, the story of America's struggle for freedom is still being written, and it falls to all of us to shape its next chapter. The only question is whether we will rise to the challenge, and whether we will do so before it is too late.
