(OWINGS MILLS – June 12, 2026) – Juneteenth is a week away.
Think about that.
One hundred sixty-one years after Black people learned that freedom delayed is freedom denied, we find ourselves facing another test—not of chains and plantations, but of political power, unity, and self-determination.
And once again, nobody is coming to save us.
We are the cavalry.
We always have been.
Nobody gave us freedom.
Black people fought for freedom.
Nobody gave us voting rights.
Black people fought for voting rights.
Nobody integrated schools because America suddenly developed a conscience.
Black people fought for that, too.
Every inch of progress our people have made in America came because somebody organized, somebody marched, somebody strategized, somebody voted, and somebody refused to quit.
That’s why I find myself shaking my head when I hear some of the conversations taking place in Baltimore County.
“Julian didn’t return my phone call.”
Okay.
And?
Since when did Black political advancement become dependent upon returned phone calls?
Since when did personal feelings outweigh collective interests?
Since when did historic opportunities become secondary to individual grievances?
This moment is bigger than Julian Jones.
This moment is bigger than any one candidate.
For the first time in Baltimore County history, there is a legitimate opportunity to elect a Black County Executive.
The first.
Ever.
Not the second.
Not the third.
The first.
Let that sink in.
Baltimore County has existed for generations.
County Executive after County Executive.
Administration after administration.
White male after white male.
Never a Black County Executive.
Not one.
And where does much of that opportunity reside?
Woodlawn.
Randallstown.
Owings Mills.
Communities that have become centers of Black homeownership, Black entrepreneurship, Black churches, Black civic engagement, and Black political influence.
Communities that help power Baltimore County every single day.
The question is whether they recognize the power they already possess.
Meanwhile, Black people have helped build Baltimore County every step of the way.
We pay taxes here.
We own homes here.
We run businesses here.
We teach in the schools.
We protect neighborhoods.
We serve in government.
We are a major part of the county’s workforce and tax base.
Yet when an opportunity emerges to make history, some of us immediately begin searching for reasons not to.
That’s the part I don’t understand.
And frankly, that’s the part that exhausts me.
Because I keep hearing Black people talk about Black empowerment.
I hear speeches during Black History Month.
I hear speeches during Juneteenth.
I hear speeches about equity, representation, opportunity, and justice.
But when an actual opportunity presents itself to expand Black political power, suddenly everybody becomes neutral.
Suddenly everybody wants to play both sides.
Suddenly everybody has a reason to sit this one out.
That’s not leadership.
That’s avoidance.
And let’s stop pretending otherwise.
Look around.
Other communities understand power.
They understand that power is not a feeling.
Power is not a hashtag.
Power is not a speech.
Power is organization.
Power is discipline.
Power is understanding that collective interests sometimes matter more than individual grievances.
Even now, with State Senator Dalya Attar facing a federal indictment, many of her supporters have not abandoned her.
Agree or disagree with that approach.
That’s not the point.
The point is that they understand the importance of sticking together.
The point is that they understand power.
The point is that they understand a simple truth:
Power fragmented is power surrendered.
Meanwhile, we are still debating phone calls.
We are still debating personalities.
We are still debating feelings.
And while we’re busy arguing with each other, opportunities pass us by.
Nobody gave Black people freedom.
We fought for it.
Nobody gave us voting rights.
We fought for them.
Nobody integrated schools because America suddenly found its conscience.
Black people forced America to confront itself.
Every meaningful advance our people have made has come because somebody was willing to think bigger than themselves.
That’s the challenge before us right now.
Think bigger than yourself.
Think bigger than your ego.
Think bigger than your disappointment.
Think bigger than your personal beefs.
Think bigger than your phone call.
A week from now, there will be Juneteenth celebrations across America.
There will be music.
There will be speeches.
There will be festivals.
There will be declarations about Black excellence and Black progress.
Good.
Celebrate.
But understand this:
The greatest tribute we can pay those who came before us is not another speech.
It is action.
Baltimore County has never elected a Black County Executive.
Not once.
History does not always knock twice.
If not now, when?
If not us, who?
Nobody is coming to save us.
We are the cavalry.
We always have been.
The question is whether we finally believe it.
