Juneteenth and the Stories We Still Need to Tell

I grew up in Illinois—the Land of Lincoln.

I learned about the Emancipation Proclamation in school.
We took field trips to Springfield.
We walked past bronze statues and read plaques in the Capitol.
We were taught that Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves.

But no one told us the whole story.

No one mentioned that it took more than two years after Lincoln’s proclamation of freedom to finally reach every corner of the country.
No one told us about June 19, 1865—when the last group of enslaved people in Galveston, Texas, were told they were free.
No one said their freedom had already been signed into law, but it was withheld.

Delayed.
Denied.

That day—Juneteenth—was missing from my textbooks.

But it matters. Deeply.

Juneteenth is a celebration of freedom, yes—but it’s also a call to honesty. A call to look again at the stories we were told and ask, 

“What was left out?”
"Who was left out?"

It’s a day to amplify Black joy, history, culture, and resilience.

And for those of us who aren’t Black, it’s a day to listen.
To honor.
To remember.
And to keep learning.

Because telling the truth about history isn’t rewriting it.
It’s finally telling it right.

But Juneteenth isn’t the end of the story—it’s an invitation.

A starting point for deeper reflection, broader inclusion, and a lifelong commitment to truth-telling.

Because real change doesn’t come from recognizing a date on the calendar.
It comes from reshaping the culture that surrounds it.

So may we carry this posture—of listening, honoring, remembering, and learning—into our everyday lives.

Into the books we read, the conversations we have, the stories we elevate, and the voices we center.

Not just on June 19.
But on June 20.
And every day after that.