read time: 8 minutes

Although the exact date of his birth is unknown, February is the birth month for Frederick Douglass. Word has it, he chose February 14th as his birthday because his mother called him “her little Valentine.” 

Happy birthday, Freddie D.

A few years ago, I started a new 4th of July tradition. Before the fireworks and the cookouts, I spend time reading Frederick Douglass’ “The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro” more aptly referred to by it’s most infamous bar, “What To The Slave Is the Fourth of July?” 

It is a “scathing speech” on American life in the 1800s and arguably one of the greatest speeches in American History. 

For those who haven’t yet taken the time  – the speech is over 20 pages/10,000+ words, so I get it  – indulge me if you will because I have an idea.

I present to you, my cliff notes version of What To The Slave Is The Fourth of July? (in AAVE)

*cue Beyonce’s American Requiem*

Today marks the beginning of another year of your national life. 

(hold for applause) 

It is the birthday of America’s independence and freedom; and, the announcements say that I am here to deliver a speech about the 4th of July. 

Me. 

Frederick Douglass. 

A formerly enslaved black man.

(I’m just gonna let y’all sit with that for a minute)

Now, if I come off looking calm, I promise you, you most certainly got me fucked up because whoever could stand here (in a room full of whites) and not be nervous is a better man than me. 

My business, if I have any here today, is to pay my respects (and get a little lick back; for the culture, of course).

Becoming a nation, under any circumstance, is an interesting event. 76 years ago, the people of this country were subjects under the British Crown; and, we all know it: England was wildin out back then and ya'll caught some strays.

Your forefathers, being the peaceful men that they were, attempted to handle this in a civil manner with twitter fingers and respectful discourse. They believed in order; but not in the order of tyranny. Now that I think about it, it’s actually rare that so much greatness could be in the same place at the same time. That's Dream Team type shit.

(Their solid manhood stands out more as we contrast it with these degenerate times)

But, the Crown wasn’t tryna hear all that.

Your forefathers knew the odds were stacked against them, yet firmly believing in the rightness of their cause, these great men realized that they needed to switch it up. They decided it’d be better to knuck if you buck rather than live under the Crown’s rule; and, they was not the type of men to hold back. 

So, they told the Crown it's on sight. Pull up. 

Thankfully, they succeeded and today, you reap the fruits of that success, which has risen and still rises in grandeur around you. The freedom gained is yours; and you, therefore, may properly celebrate this 4th of July, the first great fact in your nation's history.

But here’s the thing Fellow citizens, the blessings in which you may rejoice are yours, and yours alone – I am not included within the pale of this glorious anniversary (you see what I did there?) 

On my momma, the way I see it, I declare with all my soul that the character and conduct of this nation never looked blacker to me than on this 4th of July!

Above your national, tumultuous joy, I hear the mournful wail of millions!

Cast one glance, if you please, upon a young mother, whose shoulders are bare to the scorching sun, her briny tears falling on the brow of the baby in her arms. Heat and sorrow have nearly consumed their strength. Suddenly you hear a quick snap, like the discharge of a rifle  – the sound of the whip; your ears are saluted with a scream that seems to have torn its way to the centre of your soul! Her speed had faltered under the weight of her child and her chains! that gash on her shoulder tells her to move on.

(Is freedom in the room with us today?)

I was born amid such sights and scenes. I lived on Philpot Street, Fell's Point, Baltimore. In the still darkness of midnight, the dead heavy footsteps and the piteous cries of the chained gangs that passed our door woke me up out my sleep. I watched the ships, anchored from the shore, with their cargoes of human flesh, waiting for favorable winds to send them down the Chesapeake. My soul sickens at the sight.

I think it goes without saying that the obstacles that I have overcome to be here are by no means slight. The distance between the plantation that I escaped from and this stage is very much giving started from the bottom. And, that I am here today is, to me, a matter of astonishment as well as of gratitude. 

Your high independence only reveals the immeasurable distance between us.

And I stand ten toes down on that shyt. 

What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer: a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your national greatness is vanity; your celebration is a joke; your boasting, your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless – a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation on earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than the United States at this very hour. Do we really gotta argue whether a system marked with blood and stained with pollution, a system begun in avarice, supported in pride, and perpetuated in cruelty is wrong? Nah, the fuck I won’t. I’m tryna protect my peace these days. (bitch don't kill my vibe)

But that ain’t even the worst of it. Y’all got the nerve to palm off this horrible blasphemy on the world as “Christianity”, a religion which favors the rich against the poor; which exalts the proud above the humble; which divides mankind into two classes: tyrants and slaves; which says to the man in chains, stay there; and to the oppressor, oppress on. 

You declare, before the world, and are understood by the world to declare, that you “hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal; and are endowed by their Creator with certain, inalienable rights; and that, among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”; and yet, you hold ya own people securely in bondage; and you cling to that shyt, as if it were the sheet anchor of all your hopes. 

(Need I remind you that a similar thing is being done all over this country today?)

Even though y’all got shyt looking crazy rn, I ain’t worried.  

You still got some growing up to do, America. You’re only in the beginning of your national career, still in the impressionable stage of your existence, still acting childish. There is consolation in the thought that America is young. I repeat, I am glad this is so. There is hope in the thought, and hope is much needed. 

One thing is for certain, and two are fa sho: No nation can cut itself off from the outside world and act like they can continue the same long established evil shyt and nasty work that they fathers was on with impunity and without interference. Knowledge that was once enjoyed by the privileged few, with the multitude walking on in mental darkness, has now come to light; and intelligence is penetrating the darkest corners of the affairs of mankind. The past only matters if we can make it useful, for all the inspiring motives and noble deeds which can be gained from it. Now is the time for the glow up. 

I, therefore, leave off with hope. My hope is that high lessons of wisdom, of justice and of truth will yet give direction to America’s destiny.

Whate'er the peril or the cost, stand on business and be driven.

P.S. You should read the original at some point though. 

– N