You Can’t Push the People Who Built It to the Margins.

Let me be clear: this isn’t about ego. It’s about principle.

When we fought to bring Juneteenth to the City of Sandy Springs, it wasn’t because it was popular — it was because it was right. It was time to honor our ancestors, uplift our culture, and celebrate freedom the way it was always meant to be: by the people, for the people.

And for a while, it felt like the message got through.

But last year, something changed.

The very city we partnered with — the city where we helped build Juneteenth from the ground up — tried to take the holiday we fought for and sideline the very people who gave it life. They tried to strip it of its roots and repackage it without the voices that made it meaningful.

Let’s not rewrite history.

Juneteenth wasn’t born in boardrooms. It wasn’t sparked by city councils or press releases. It was forged through pain, struggle, and ultimately, triumph. Some of us have been celebrating this holiday for decades — long before it became a federal holiday. We didn’t have to look it up in 2020. We lived it.

So when I was told that my advocacy was “dividing the city,” I had to laugh — because what really divides a city is erasure. What divides a city is when those in power co-opt the work of Black organizers and community leaders, then try to push them out once the cameras start rolling. That’s not unity — it’s disrespect.

And the receipts don’t lie.

Thanks to an open records request, we saw the emails — the paper trail. And honestly? I just wish they had been smart enough not to leave one. Because what we saw confirmed what so many of us already knew: the erasure wasn’t accidental. It was calculated.

But here’s the deeper truth: what happened around Juneteenth is just a snapshot of a larger problem — a microcosm of how this city treats its marginalized residents, its workers, and anyone passionate about progress.

For years, Sandy Springs has stalled — bouncing between bringing services in-house or outsourcing them, with no clear vision for measured, sustainable growth. It shouldn’t take someone running for office to force action on basic issues like police pay. If we truly value public safety, then invest in it.

Yes, the city has over 50 acres dedicated to parks and trails. But ask the people — especially young families — what they really want: affordable housing, accessible resources, and a rec center. These aren’t luxuries. These are building blocks for strong communities.

And let’s be real: this city runs because working families show up every day. But those same families are often overlooked. Ignored. Pushed aside.

Sixty-five percent of our community are renters. That’s the majority — and they still don’t have a meaningful seat at the table. That group is diverse. That group is vital. And just like what happened with Juneteenth, they deserve a voice that isn’t appropriated. They deserve to be seen. Heard. Valued.

And this isn’t just about me. It’s about us — the people. The ones this nation was built for.

“We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice...”

Justice is equity.
Justice is fairness.
Justice is what we will keep fighting for, no matter the obstacles.

God didn’t send me to point fingers. God sent me to give our kids hope. Hope that their voices matter. Hope that they can build something lasting. Hope that their future can’t be stolen or silenced.

This isn’t just an event. It’s a movement. And the community showed up — not for titles, not for credit, but for truth. For dignity. For power.

And while some tried to box us out, the work speaks for itself.

You don’t need a title. You don’t need permission. All you need is conviction, clarity, and the courage to stand for what’s right.

This isn’t about dividing the city.
This is about unifying the people.
And if you’re tired of performative politics, tired of being told to wait your turn, tired of being unseen — you’re not alone.

The true fight is not with each other. It’s with those who benefit from keeping us divided.

But not anymore.

We’re here. We’re ready. And we’re not going back.