19.6.23

STOP WOKE CULTURAL APPROPRIATION!

Daily Beast contributor Ernest Owens is not happy with the way the intersectional types are celebrating Juneteenth.  "Nearly two years after being nationally recognized, the celebration of Black American emancipation has turned into a misguided holiday of performativity."

He grew up black in Texas and speaks of his lived experience.
Growing up in Houston, Juneteenth—an event that commemorates June 19, 1865, as the day enslaved Black people in Galveston, Texas, learned they were free (more than two years after the Emancipation Proclamation had been signed)—was a Black holiday in my hometown.

I remember spending my summers down at Galveston Beach and watching the procession of decorated cars with live music proceed as the Jubilee parade commenced. I can still smell the tasty barbeque, remember the gallons of signature red soda passed around, and all that hot sauce doused on my plate as the red and blue Juneteenth flags were waved.

Juneteenth was our Fourth of July—a celebration which reminded me that the South still had something to say, and that Black people didn’t have to wait for the validation of our white peers to gather around our history.
The story of Juneteenth in Texas involves Great Power Maneuvering.  Federal troops were sent to the Mexican border to keep an eye on the House of Hapsburg, and along the way they delivered the word that the rebellion was over and the slaves were free.  That story might be beyond my poor power to add or detract.  I'll let historian Allen C. Guelzo, who once lived and taught in Gettysburg, explain.

Texas might have been cut off from the rest of the Confederacy, but the cause continued.
Juneteenth is a linguistic compression of the date “June Nineteenth,” with the particular June 19th in view being June 19, 1865. The American Civil War was practically over by that date—the principal Confederate field army under Robert E. Lee had surrendered in Virginia on April 9, 1865, followed by the surrenders of other Confederate forces and the capture of fleeing Confederate president Jefferson Davis on May 10th. But only practically. The United States government had never recognized the Confederacy as a legal entity, and so there were no peace talks or treaty signings to mark a single end-point to the war; the Confederacy simply expired, and did so unevenly, from place to place. In Texas, there were still enough in the way of organized Confederate forces to fight a pitched battle, at Palmito Ranch on May 12th. Palmito Ranch was not a very large or significant battle, but it ended in the withdrawal of Union soldiers back to the southern Texas port of Brownsville, which they had occupied since 1863. Anyone who wanted to declare the war over might find themselves in more danger than they had imagined.
During the Rebellion, the usurpers in Richmond hoped for the House of Hapsburg to intervene on their side, which is one reason the Federal Government kept a post open in Brownsville.  That part is a story for another day, somebody should have told Jeff Davis to be careful what he wished for, as a Franco-Spanish Mexico could have carved back much of the Gadsden Purchase and Louisiana Purchase out of the Confederacy.  With the rebellion ended, Uncle Sam had to enforce the Monroe Doctrine along the southern border.
But the hourglass on these threats was running out swiftly. On May 26th—two weeks after the collision at Palmito Ranch—Confederate General Simon Bolivar Buckner arranged a formal surrender of Confederate forces west of the Mississippi, a surrender confirmed on June 2nd by the last senior Confederate officer in the west, Edmund Kirby Smith. Union commanders were eager to move into Texas as quickly as possible: the Mexican border had been in chaos since the French empire of Napoleon III occupied the former Mexican republic in 1862, and many Confederates were crossing into Mexico to join the French. On June 13th, Union Major General Philip Sheridan, who had been appointed to command the formerly Confederate southwestern states of Louisiana, Arkansas, and Texas, directed Major General Gordon Granger (who had been in command of Union troops occupying the strategic port of Mobile, Alabama) to take charge of all Union forces holding points on the Texas Gulf coast and set up his headquarters at the port of Galveston. Chief among his responsibilities would be to “notify the people of Texas” that, under the terms of the Emancipation Proclamation, slavery had ceased to exist in Texas and that “all slaves are free.”
Poor Buckner, he was exiled to Siberia the southwest for having unconditionally surrendered Fort Donelson.  That's another digression, we're supposed to be understanding the civilian rituals that followed.
Granger began forwarding troops to Galveston immediately after Sheridan’s order. An advance contingent arrived on June 16th aboard the army transport Corinthian, and Granger arrived in Galveston himself on June 19th, on board the steamer Crescent with “two or three thousand” Union soldiers, and set up headquarters in the Osterman Building. It was at the Osterman Building and other points in Galveston that Granger’s soldiers read and distributed his General Orders No. 3, which (as Sheridan had directed him to do) declared in no uncertain terms that slavery was now over as a fact in Texas, as it had been legally since the Emancipation Proclamation was issued: “The people of Texas are informed that, in accordance with a proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free.” Granger even took a small step beyond the ending of slavery, by declaring that the former slaves would now enjoy “an absolute equality of personal rights and rights of property” with their former masters, “and the connection heretofore existing between them becomes that between employer and hired labor.” On the other hand, Granger did not press beyond that to announce an equality of civil rights (that would not occur until the passage and ratification of the fourteenth and fifteenth amendments over the next five years). He assured Galveston’s white inhabitants that “negroes fleeing from the country to this city would not be allowed to live in idleness or become a burthen to the people,” and with his characteristic brusqueness, General Orders No. 3 counseled the freedmen “to remain quietly at their present homes and work for wages” and not “to collect at military posts” in any expectation of being “supported in idleness either there or elsewhere.”

Granger only remained in command in Galveston until August 1st, and spent the remainder of his career until his death in 1876 in otherwise routine Army assignments in the west. But celebrations of June 19th began in Galveston with “a grand turn-out and barbeque” as early as 1866, and in 1872, four black leaders in Houston—John Henry “Jack” Yates, Richard Allen, Richard Brock, and David Elias Dibble—purchased a ten-acre “Emancipation Park” that became the focus for “Juneteenth” observations. By 1902, there were “five or six barbeques given by the colored people” in Brazos County alone, despite the sniffing disapproval of disgruntled white Texans that “our carnival-like Juneteenth outings” and “burlesque parade” should be “knocked on the head and done with”—and despite the offer by the “colored people” in 1909 to “prepare a special table for their white friends … so they may have the pleasure of entertaining them.” Juneteenth became “a second Christmas” for black Texans, with “everything especially set aside for that day.”
That's the celebration Mr Owens remembers, and he's not happy with what has happened since Juneteenth became a federal holiday.
Juneteenth has never incorporated African themed colors/designs as part of its official flag (organizers use red, white, and blue to replicate the U.S. and Texas state flags)—Walmart just couldn’t help but pander to customers as a way to flex that they were recognizing Black people. The controversy led to the corporation to apologize and discontinue the line of tone-deaf ice cream, along with canceling other ill-advised Juneteenth-themed merchandise it was selling.

But it’s not just Walmart. Last year, the Children’s Museum of Indianapolis had to go into full-apology mode after attempting to incorporate a watermelon salad as a part of its “Juneteenth Jamboree” menu. This year, a cringy banner created by a Greensville, South Carolina, non-profit hosting a Juneteenth event made headlines for promoting “an upstate celebration of freedom, unity and love” that featured an image of a white couple.
Here is the Cold Spring Shops flag hoist for today.


I'm glad Mr Owens would not disapprove, although with five great-granduncles having served in the 31st and 34th Wisconsin Volunteers, I have all the authority to hoist this flag I require.  Who knows, maybe those Texan celebrations included a church service, and perhaps some pastors reminded the flock that congregants should kneel to God alone, and give Him thanks for the liberty he endowed all men with, with a little help from the Federal Army.  Maybe the Marquette faculty and the WUWM talkers should consider the ways the flag still stands for freedom, rather than conceding Lee Greenwood to the conservative populists.  They still should go to that Oktoberfest, all the same.

But "Don't know much about History" has gone from a pop song to business as usual, even among people who should know better.  "This is one example of how the teaching of history has been less accurate over time. I was accurately taught in history class that Juneteenth was when slaves in Texas were freed, not all of America."  Go, read the whole thing.

Mr Owens also laments the way the holiday has been captured by commerce.
In so many ways, the desire to mainstream Juneteenth has now led to much of its press and publicity being met with pandering or controversy. It reminds me of Black History Month, when perhaps there was a moment in time in which America tried to take the shortest timeframe of the year seriously to acknowledge the contributions of Black people. Or perhaps Juneteenth has quickly descended into the rainbow capitalism vibes of Pride month—during which more of the festivities are being monetized for high visibility, without any intentional focus on the community.
That gets Pajamas Media's Rick Moran cracking wise.  "In my opinion, this is what makes Juneteenth an all-American, star-spangled, 100% truly American holiday. It’s exactly what’s happened to other holidays like Memorial Day and Independence Day. Why should Juneteenth be any different?"

So far, the furniture stores and used car dealers haven't gotten in on the actions, but just wait.

In a way it's fitting.  Juneteenth and Cinco de Mayo have in common the House of Hapsburg and the complete lack of understanding by contemporary celebrants of what really happened on those days.

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