“The people of Texas are informed that, in accordance with a proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free. This involves an absolute equality of personal rights…”


I’ve just arrived in Los Angeles, and the jasmine-and jacaranda-scented streets are all leading to City Hall. I arrived Monday, the 16, the day of the first same-sex/equal marriages in California. The historic declaration is surging through the city, and celebrants dined all around me at El Coyote on Beverly Boulevard as my family celebrated my niece's tenth birthday that same night. As I love these girls, I dream of a world of more understanding, of more engagement and the freedom for all of us to love each other as we choose. The path that has lead to California’s same sex marriage decision has an important lineage of social movements, of human rights struggles and victories. Yesterday was a day filled with celebration as booths filled West Hollywood Park handing out marriage licenses for same-sex couples. This week is also Juneteenth, and I would like to remember another complex history of the United States and its government and the incomprehensible endorsement (for way too long) of inequality for its members.

Responding to a question about why she and her life partner were getting married at the Beverly Hills courthouse, Robin Tyler said, "This is a civil rights movement. The courthouse is the place where we were turned down."

L. Monique joined me for Trailer Talk in New York. What follows are excerpts from our Juneteenth conversation.

How did you come up with the idea to produce and sponsor this Juneteenth event for the Sullivan County Catskills, NY?
One of my trite mottos is “Don’t fuss about it, be about it.” I moved to Sullivan County with my life and business partner almost six years ago. So, we decided that Juneteenth, being the oldest and grandest African-American holiday, and extremely underexposed, needed to be brought to Sullivan County; and we’ve been doing it ever since.

Did you grow up being aware of it and celebrating it? At what point in your life did you find out what it is and what the celebration is about?
I believe I was a late teenager — and I’m not going to tell you how many years ago that was, but let’s just say a while ago — when I discovered that every slave was not freed on January 1, 1863. Up until that time, I was taught, told and thought that everyone was freed via Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation. It was only later when I learned it took a full two and a half years for the slaves of Galveston, TX, who were the last group, to learn that they were free. And they found out on June 19, 1865. So, the slave dialect coupled with the Texas southern...

Twang.
Yes. “June 19” became “Juneteenth.” And to those who know it well, it’s also affectionately named “Emancipation Day.” Some people call it the “Black Fourth of July.” For me, it’s an inclusive holiday that celebrates freedom and empowerment.

And L. Monique, you are an amazing spoken word artist, and you talk about the focus for you of education with it, that that’s a huge part of what you do in this expression — what brought you to become a poetess, as you’ve been called, and a spoken word artist?
Wow! I’ve been doing poetry for a very, very long time. I was 11 years old writing poems for my friends who actually wanted love letters written to their boyfriends and their girlfriends, and that’s how I started. My mother read to me the first poem I’d ever heard, and it was a poem entitled “In the Morning” by Paul Laurence Dunbar. It’s written in a southern dialect, and she did the whole thing out of her head. So, I was just already taken aback by that.

But when I was about seven years old, I was reared in Park Slope, Brooklyn, and we had a wonderful place there called BAM, the Brooklyn Academy of Music. And on a school trip one day, I had the opportunity to see another poet who reminded me very much of myself — she had a short natural haircut, full-featured black woman — and she went on to become the first African-American poet to win the Pulitzer Prize. Her name is Gwendolyn Brooks. That was probably one of the most empowering and inspiring creative experiences I’ve ever had. And I think, subconsciously at that moment, I knew this is what I wanted to do. I think that a great part of my job is to be the “voice of the voiceless,” because there are so many people out there in so many situations who are not in positions to be able to speak for themselves. And as an artist, if you can do that, then that’s what you need to do. And that’s what I try to do.

L. Monique is now living in Charlotte, NC. If you’re down south, check out her monthly queer poetry bash and her gay pride shows in North and South Carolina and Atlanta.