Juneteenth in MN
Juneteenth in the Twin Cities is bound in my mind to the murder of George Floyd and the persistence of Marc Johnigan and the Twin Cities Recovery Project — to celebrate when everything is bleak.
It’s a wild dialectic:
The world is full of evil, injustice, and malignant indifference
We should celebrate the hell out of the rest of it
Poster of first annual TCRP Juneteenth celebration
The uprising was on TCRP’s doorstep. The 3rd precinct burned a little less than a mile down Lake Street. The morning after that long night, some of us gathered at the club. The alarm at the Walgreens across the street was blaring as people walked through the busted-out doors. The next morning, the store was rubble — burnt.
I think a lot of people felt close to Marc — he had that effect on people. We would talk about the steady onslaught of trauma that his community experienced. The abuse he experienced as a child, his experiences in prison, the loss of his son Shamari to gun violence, and the wave after wave of injustices — they seemed to be compounding during this time.
Boots on the Ground. That’s what Marc would talk about. What to do about it?
When things felt absolutely overwhelming, he did what he always would do. Back to basics. He mobilized his team to create a safe place for those who needed sanctuary. Simple things. Community. Food. Music. He struggled to celebrate himself or his wins, but he was able to offer that to others effortlessly.
TCRP from May to July hosted mothers who had lost children to police violence. They continued services and outreach. He led grief and trauma groups. And, he put together a celebration of Juneteenth at the club. Real stuff. No “stakeholders.” Just community and hope. Naloxone. Food. Dancing. Cards. He worked to celebrate while the rest of the world — and I — struggled to do anything but admire the problem. There was a revolutionary power in his celebrating despite it all.
Today, things continue to feel overwhelming. Marc’s absence is loud. Fentanyl continues its ruthless work. Our city isn’t literally burning, but the underlying conditions remain. We should acknowledge the rage-inducing disparities — every individual and institutional failure from Jim Crow to Daunte Wright.
And, on Monday we celebrate. Tuesday, we’re back to work.