Every June 19, we gather to honor the day when freedom finally reached the last enslaved people in Galveston, Texas — two and a half years after the Emancipation Proclamation. Juneteenth, also known as Freedom Day, marks a turning point in U.S. history, and over time, it has evolved into a celebration of not only liberation but of resilience, resistance, and Black joy.
One of the most powerful and unbroken threads of Juneteenth is food. The table becomes a canvas of history on front porches, in parks, in churches, and in backyards. Red foods and drinks — hibiscus tea, strawberry soda, red velvet cake, barbecue, watermelon — are deeply symbolic, honoring the bloodshed of the enslaved and the ancestors who never saw freedom. Red also connects us to the culinary traditions of West Africa, where hibiscus and kola nut drinks are widely shared during celebrations (Harris, Jessica B. High on the Hog: A Culinary Journey from Africa to America. Bloomsbury, 2011).
Other dishes, such as black-eyed peas, collard greens, okra, and sweet potatoes, tell stories of resourcefulness and cultural continuity. Once part of survival on the plantation, these foods are now beloved staples of Black culinary identity — a testament to transformation and tradition.
The Great Migration and Separation from the Soil
While Juneteenth marks a beginning, it also reminds us of what came next. Between 1916 and 1970, more than six million Black Americans fled the South during the Great Migration, seeking refuge from racial violence, sharecropping, and the broken promises of Reconstruction (Wilkerson, Isabel. The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration. Random House, 2010). Many left behind farmland — some of it hard-won — and the agrarian legacy that had sustained generations.
This mass migration led to a tragic disconnection from the land. In 1920, Black farmers operated 14% of all U.S. farmland. By 2022, that number had dropped to less than 1.5% (USDA/NASS QuickStats Ad-hoc Query Tool). Discriminatory lending practices, legal loopholes, and government neglect accelerated this loss. The trauma of slavery, the exploitation of sharecropping, and the constant threat of violence made walking away feel like the only path to freedom.
But in that distance, something sacred was nearly lost: our relationship to the land as more than labor. As medicine. As inheritance. As liberation.
Reclaiming the Land, Restoring the Legacy
Today, a new generation of Black farmers is returning to the soil — not out of obligation, but as an act of power. From rural homesteads to urban farms, they are reclaiming agriculture as resistance and healing.
These land stewards are not only growing food; they are restoring ancestral practices, reviving seed lines, and building food sovereignty in their communities. They are challenging the policies and systems that once tried to erase them.
Organizations like the National Black Food & Justice Alliance, Soul Fire Farm, and our very own Farmers of Color Network are planting seeds of justice through training, land access, mentorship, and policy advocacy. They are declaring that the future of food must be just, equitable, and deeply rooted in community.
As farmer and author Leah Penniman writes, “To free ourselves, we must feed ourselves” (Penniman, Leah. Farming While Black: Soul Fire Farm’s Practical Guide to Liberation on the Land. Chelsea Green Publishing, 2018).
Liberation is Rooted in the Land
While Juneteenth is the celebration of liberation for Black Americans, the pursuit of land, food, and freedom is a shared struggle across communities of color. Indigenous, Latinx, Asian, and immigrant farmers have also faced land theft, forced relocation, exploitative labor, and systemic exclusion from agricultural opportunity.
When we fight for Black food sovereignty, we’re also building a framework for collective liberation — a food system in which all communities have the power to feed themselves, steward their land, and pass abundance on to future generations.
Feeding the Future
Juneteenth isn’t just about where we’ve been — it’s about where we’re going.
Our foodways have traveled through the halls of history — from West Africa to the plantations of the Deep South, to Harlem kitchens and Oakland gardens, to farmers markets and cooperative farms blooming in places that were once plagued by food apartheid.
And now, we march forward as stewards of the land and keepers of the earth science that will feed our revolution. The kind of science that isn’t sterile or extractive, but sacred. Science passed down through hands that knew when to plant by the moon and how to compost sorrows into nourishment.
This Juneteenth, we honor the legacy of those who fed us in chains and those who now feed us in freedom. We lift up the farmers of today who choose the land, again and again. Not to repeat the past, but to rewrite the future.
Celebrate freedom. Celebrate farmers. Celebrate the earth beneath our feet.