We Need To Talk About The Fourth of July
The new film ‘A BLack woman’s declaration of independence’ is The conversation we need to be having about the Fourth of July. Meet the director Jessa Ciel—an artist, changemaker, and unapologetic Black woman.
Artist Jessa Ciel in the film A Black Woman’s Declaration of Independence
A crown is nestled in the beautiful curls of noted artist Jessa Ciel. She is wrapped in the American flag and takes slow yet powerful steps towards an all-white church steeple: A Black Woman’s Declaration of Independence begins. This short film highlights the experience of being Black in America. Jessa’s prose tells the story of the past, present, and future. Her calming voice shares the history of Black America.
According to director Jessa Ciel and producers Tré Borden and Karla Carnewal, the film “amplifies the energy and agency with which many ‘post-2020 African Americans’ now move through the world—particularly as it concerns unburdening themselves of the trauma of white supremacy.” When I previewed the short film, I was immediately moved. It was the moment I did not know I was waiting for. Finally, I was able to experience what I have been feeling for years when it comes to the Fourth of July. I’ve always known that my ancestors were not free on July 4th, 1776. Frederick Douglass told us what that day was to enslaved Black people.
My childhood home had a wall dedicated to him.
A Black Woman’s Declaration of Independence allowed me to hear, feel, and see what America’s independence means to me. I had the honor of previewing this powerful piece. Without going into too much detail I implore you to watch this 10-minute short film. As a Black person, feel the feelings. As a white person, feel the feelings!
Dr. Akilah Cadet, REP CO’s Chief Creative Officer, sat down with Jessa Ciel to discuss the timely and important piece of art.
What does being a Black woman on the Fourth of July mean to you?
JESSA CIEL: Being a Black woman on the 4th of July is expressing my freedom and liberation to the fullest extent possible. This is my flag too. I can tell my own story about what it means to me, what it symbolizes to me, and what I get to do with it.
Can you share the why of this film?
JC: My grandmother says that I was possessed to make this film. It seems plausible that some African ancestor has been waiting to tell this story and waiting to find someone open enough to listen. This is what happens when I'm in quarantine and spend an inordinate amount of time by myself. I was listening to The Read [podcast], and looking at tanks parked two blocks away from my house, and watching protestors gathering peacefully in masks, and reading Trace: Memory, History, Race, and the American Landscape for the third time and having these very expansive deep-dive conversations with my mother, and my friend and co-producer Tre Borden and just internalizing everything. I was then asked to sit for an interview for a local Sacramento publication in October with the impending election. I had such a great conversation with the white journalist, and went to take the photograph for the publication and brought the flag. The photographer emailed me and said that she found out that it was unacceptable to drape the flag on the ground. Then, they published my article in February as a token for Black History Month and didn't include any of my work because it was too provocative. So I thought, you know, this is my flag too. If you thought it was unacceptable for it to be on the ground, wait until you see what's next.
“Being a Black woman on the 4th of July is expressing my freedom and liberation to the fullest extent possible. This is my flag too. I can tell my own story about what it means to me, what it symbolizes to me, and what I get to do with it.”
Your short film shares so much of the Black experience. What do you expect your viewers to receive from it?
JC: I expect viewers to receive recognition if they identify as Black in any way. I think we have so many of these experiences that are completely disorienting to us and our sense of identity. Many of us don't see ourselves as any different from anyone else, and it's so disorienting to feel so othered because of the color of our skin. We react to it in different ways. I talk a lot about those ways: assimilation, anger, disassociation, desperation. Some of us try to get in as close proximity to whiteness as possible. Some of us try to distance ourselves from it as much as possible. Many of us try to navigate it with some form of grace; educating non-Black people, holding space for their feelings, smiling when we're disrespected, denied, misinterpreted. I expect non-Black people to negotiate with the ways in which they both identify and contribute to the othering of Blackness in a white-centered society. I expect everyone to be in emotion because the artwork is designed to hit the gut. It's designed to stimulate an emotional response before an intellectual response. I think the only way for an artwork to really be effective in a society where everyone is moving and fast and has so many judgements about everything already, is to really target an emotional response first before the mind can put up barriers and distance itself with pre-drawn conclusions.
How can white people process your work?
JC: White people can process the work by breathing. Honestly, breath work is incredible and opens up the mind to new information. Deep breaths from the diaphragm, drawn into the heart space, up through the lungs, up through the nostrils, and exhale fully. If you have to lie down, lie down. And then go find a white person that you can listen to who can guide you through challenges. Try Danielle LaPorte or Marie Forleo or Gabby Bernstein. And then stop thinking you know anything about Black people. Honestly, to me, the only way we can rid ourselves of white supremacy is everyone becomes a n*****. Then there's no hierarchy. So white people become n******. When we are all the same, everyone will truly have equality.
“I expect non-Black people to negotiate with the ways in which they both identify and contribute to the othering of Blackness in a white-centered society. I expect everyone to be in emotion because the artwork is designed to hit the gut. It's designed to stimulate an emotional response before an intellectual response.”
In what ways do you see America celebrating Black people?
JC: I don't see America celebrating Black people. I see it highlighting Blackness to make whiteness seem as if it's caring and responsive. I see white people centering themselves in Black movements. I see white people making Black art. I don't see white people coming out in droves to support Black events, Black-led organizations, listening to Black leaders, giving Black people full power within white-led organizations, or actually treating Black people as if they are full humans the same as a white person. It's amazing when you meet a white person who is comfortable in Blackness, not exoticizing Black people, really showing up and listening and unafraid to really deep dive about race without needing their ego to be coddled. This is rare when it should be common. Black people always have to be on edge in white spaces because one of us represents all of us. It's exhausting. America can celebrate Black people by truly giving them a day off, some money in their pocket, and leaving us to do what we feel like doing. Black people are giving, we include everyone when we're doing well. We celebrate ourselves and because of that we can even celebrate raggedy America.
As you celebrate the Fourth of July, take some time to watch this short film. Reflect. Learn. Unlearn. Restart. Follow @blackjuly4th and support Jessa Ciel’s work.