A Monumental Undertaking
“We’re not free because look at how we’re still losing our lives. We’re celebrating our freedom, but are we really free?”
THE PARTY DEMETRIA MCFARLAND’S family throws every Juneteenth is so big they usually need at least three trailer-size smokers to cook enough food for everyone. McFarland’s brother-in-law invites extended family each year to his home in the rural East Texas countryside near Marshall, and it typically takes several days of work to prepare for the gathering. This year, even with many not attending due to the pandemic, more than 100 people showed up. For the cooks in the family, the party often starts the night before, on June 18.
McFarland, 50, says that people at this year’s party were more somber and reflective than usual. “Here we are celebrating this day which is supposedly about freedom for Black people, and yet look at what happened to George Floyd,” she says. “‘We’re not free because look at how we’re still losing our lives.’ That was kind of the conversation at the barbecue that Friday. ‘We’re celebrating our freedom, but are we really free?’” Conversation easily drifted to Floyd’s death in no small part because the following day, McFarland planned to drive across the country to the spot where Minneapolis police killed him the month before.
McFarland, joined by a sister and niece, drove through the night, making few stops. Upon reaching Minneapolis they went directly to the block that mourners from across the country had transformed into a public memorial. McFarland saw the streets full of
