A Nation’s Story Continued: “What to the Descendants of the Slaves is the Fourth of July?”

By Richard Graves, MA American History, 5 July 2025

"Fifteen days after Juneteenth—a day that rightly marks the final emancipation of enslaved Black Americans—we arrive at the Fourth of July"

On July 5, 1852, Frederick Douglass delivered one of the most searing indictments of American hypocrisy in his keynote address at an Independence Day celebration, boldly posing the question, “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?” A tireless abolitionist and formidable orator, Douglass spent much of each year traversing the country, speaking against the brutal institution of slavery. His speech, delivered at Corinthian Hall in Rochester, New York—amid national festivities commemorating the signing of the Declaration of Independence—struck a sharply discordant tone. In it, Douglass declared, “This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn,” offering a powerful moral rebuke to a nation that celebrated liberty while millions of Black Americans remained in chains.

Now, 172 years later, Douglass’s words still resonate. Americans of all racial backgrounds continue to invoke his speech—often as a critique of persistent racial inequities and the country’s failure to fully embody the ideals of liberty and justice. There is merit in this critique; our nation still has work to do in aligning its reality with its founding promises. However, it would be intellectually dishonest to deny the profound progress that has been made in confronting and redressing our historical sins—particularly slavery, Jim Crow, and the institutional anti-Black racism that once defined so many of our structures.

As a descendant of enslaved Africans, I take personal offense when contemporary Black Americans invoke the suffering of our ancestors as if their condition were our own. This is not to disregard the very real transmission of intergenerational trauma—whether through cultural memory, psychology, or emotional inheritance. But if we are bold enough to claim the pain of our ancestors, we must also embrace their strength. They endured so that we might stand in dignity and freedom. It dishonors them to wallow in grievance while ignoring the immense opportunity they secured for us at great personal cost.

To suggest that Black Americans today exist in the same reality as Frederick Douglass is not only historically inaccurate, it is a disservice to his legacy. We are the beneficiaries of his sacrifices and those of countless others. And we owe it to them—and to ourselves—to build on that foundation. Our present circumstances, though not perfect, afford us the ability to shape our own destinies, uplift our communities, and participate fully in American civic life. That, too, is part of the legacy of Douglass.

Fifteen days after Juneteenth—a day that rightly marks the final emancipation of enslaved Black Americans—we arrive at the Fourth of July. Both days should be celebrated by all Americans, but especially by Black Americans. Juneteenth represents our freedom; the Fourth represents the founding of the nation we are now fully part of. To scorn the latter while embracing the former is a contradiction that diminishes both. Our ancestors fought to be Americans, not to remain perpetual outsiders. We dishonor their memory when we act otherwise.