My grandfather was a proud graduate of Hampton Institute, now known as Hampton University. When he completed his studies, it wasn’t assumed that a Black man would then move on to work in corporate America, even with a college degree.

Instead of putting on a suit and tie, he wore a United States Postal Service uniform. Yep, my grandfather was the mailman in Hampton, VA. There was no car or curbside delivery, and the neighborhood homes all had mailboxes at the front door. My grandfather delivered all of his mail by foot for decades.  

I remember when he retired; my family threw him a big celebration. The United States Postal Service bronzed the shoes that he walked thousands of miles in during his career — and then mounted them on a plaque. He cried that day, not just because he was going to miss his job but because he was overwhelmed with pride. My grandmother (who was an educator) and my grandfather took pride in taking care of their family and setting up opportunities for my father, aunt, and uncle.

Home ownership was never something he believed he could achieve, but he did it. My grandfather came from humble beginnings, his parents and grandparents not far removed from slavery. Learning to read was a privilege that wasn’t taken for granted. I think that’s why my grandmother always made us read books during visits and sent us money for making A’s on our report cards.

Here’s what my grandparents set up for their children.  All three of their children went to college and put on those “suits and ties” in corporate America and medicine. All of their children’s children also went to college. Between my sister and my cousins, most of us have a master’s degree; we hold MBAs, PhDs, and degrees in law. To my grandparents, education was Black pride.   

For my parents, aunts, and uncles who were raised during segregation, Black pride included marching, serving in the military, wearing afros, and integrating public institutions.    

As I digest the long, unfolding story of my family’s legacy, I realize it’s like the story of Juneteenth. At first, it was a celebration of emancipation but, over time, it became a celebration of overcoming hardship, fighting for civil rights, and building communities. Juneteenth finally became a federal holiday in 2021 after a long, hard-fought battle with lawmakers in Washington D.C. — this is also Black pride.

So, now I think about my generation and what Black pride means to us. I think it encompasses it all. From seeing the first Black First Family in the White House; to witnessing the first Black woman to serve on the U.S. Supreme Court; to how Black creators are shaping film, television, music, and literature. Today, just like those who came before us, we are fighting the same battles for social justice and civil rights. We’re even embracing a natural hair movement — again!     

However you define Black pride, it’s amazing to see it in action. All of the parades, cookouts, and concerts are more than just having a good time — they are a celebration of us because . . . look how far we’ve come in such little time. In honor of Juneteenth, award-winning restaurants serve chicken and waffles, mac and cheese, and collard greens — who would’ve thought that would happen!

Juneteenth is a reminder that our work is not done; we have to keep that wave of pride moving. Black pride can look different through the years but the goal remains the same — loving ourselves and championing our community. Like the great James Brown told us all, “Say it loud — I’m Black and I’m proud!”

I challenge everyone, look back at your lineage and explore what Black pride looked like for your family — and what it looks like for you today.  Then, share in the comments below and tell us how you’re celebrating Juneteenth and Black pride!