Some Black and Indigenous people say freedom is unfinished business on the 250th Independence Day

In 1852 Frederick Douglass famously asked, “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?”. Now on the cusp of the nation’s 250th birthday, some Philadelphians still question if the holiday is meant for them.

Many Black and Indigenous people say they have complicated feelings about celebrating Independence Day, when the holiday did not represent independence or freedom for their ancestors. And their fight for their rights continues in 2026.

When the nation declared its independence, “people like me, we not only did not have rights, but we were literally relegated [to] property,” said Timothy Welbeck, professor and director of the Center for Anti-Racism at Temple University. “So much of this nation’s history has been marked by the struggle for Black people to have a modicum of liberty and equity.”

“I belong here. But I certainly don’t take part in their celebration,” said Donna Fann-Boyle, a Bucks County resident of Choctaw and Cherokee descent who led the fight to change the name of Neshaminy High School’s mascot.

She said anytime she hears mention of the semiquincentennial celebration on the TV or radio, she reminds herself that this land and its Indigenous people were here long before 250 years ago.

“I think it’s very hypocritical ... only certain people have those freedoms,” she said of the holiday.

It took nearly another hundred years after the Declaration of Independence was signed for slavery to end, and another hundred after that for African Americans to have a say in their nation with the passage of the Civil Rights and Voting Rights acts. And when the new nation announced itself July 4, 1776, Native Americans had already been living on the land for hundreds of years, but were still forcibly displaced from their homes and later confined to reservations.

For some, the holiday is not a day to ignore, but a tool. Rev. Carolyn Cavaness, the pastor of Mother Bethel AME Church in Society Hill, said the Fourth of July is an opportunity to talk about the nation’s contradictions, and to argue Black people should have always been included in its vision of independence.

“We have responsibility to lift up these truths,” she said.

“There is a piece of the brain that says, well you should sit out. But then I also know that when I think about my ancestors, and when I think about the institution that I am called to serve... we have to be out front to show and to celebrate that people of African descent have always been a part of this country,” she said.

When he was growing up in South Dakota, the Fourth of July was mostly just like any other day for Eugene Black Crow. It wasn’t something he or his community ever celebrated, because it wasn’t their holiday. Black Crow, who is of Oglala Lakota descent, learned more about the country’s Independence Day when he was sent off to a boarding school for Native American children.

“We got beaten into speaking English,” Black Crow, 70, said, having only spoken Lakota before then. At the boarding school, he saw Fourth of July fireworks for the first time. He and his classmates learned to recite the Pledge of Allegiance, though they didn’t really understand what the words meant until years later.

Black Crow now lives in the Franklinville section and over the years, he said he’s noticed more Native Americans celebrating the holiday, even in his South Dakota hometown. He used to take his children to watch fireworks when they were young, but there’s been a dissonant feeling to the experience.

“It was always in the back of my mind — why are we natives celebrating this?" he said.

Even in the 18th and 19th centuries, people of color made the Fourth of July into a day of protest, and celebrated alternative independence days from other nations instead, said Morgan Lloyd, programming coordinator for the African American Museum in Philadelphia. She believes today, the holiday is a useful moment to consider and reflect on the whole history of the United States, where Black and Indigenous people have helped shape the country despite their exclusion from its loftiest ideals of freedom.

“It is for me, a conversation starter around what does independence and what does full recognition look like,” she said.

Cavaness thinks about the holiday in a similarly inclusive way, and said she plans to speak with her congregation about the nation’s 250th anniversary representing how freedom is unfinished business.

“There is still freedom not realized. And every generation goes through this notion of what does freedom look like, who is left out, who needs to be brought in,” she said.

From his North Philly home, Black Crow teaches students how to speak Lakota over Zoom. His Lakhota Woglakapo Project is intended to ensure the mostly spoken language doesn’t get lost to time. He plans to visit his old reservation this fall, so he can record other Lakota speakers for posterity.

He attended a pro-immigration rally in Philadelphia this week, just a few days after the U.S. Supreme Court ruled President Donald Trump‘s administration could revoke protected status for Haitian and Syrian immigrants. Black Crow spoke to the crowd filled with immigrants, expressing his solidarity.

“You’re welcome to America,” he told them.