From Barbados to Galveston: Interwoven Histories, Shared Resistance

June holds both Caribbean American Heritage Month and Juneteenth. These observances are born from struggle, rooted in resilience, and carried forward through culture, memory, and joy.

Caribbean American Heritage Month, officially established in 2006, recognizes the contributions of Caribbean people to the history of the United States. As a Caribbean American with family from Barbados, I’ve experienced how Caribbean and African American stories are often separated, yet our legacies are deeply connected. Our communities have both endured colonization, forced migration, systemic racism, and cultural erasure. And yet, both communities have long pushed back against injustice, held onto their cultural pride, and supported one another through generations of change.

Juneteenth, commemorated on June 19, marks the day in 1865 when the last enslaved Black people in Galveston, Texas, were informed of their freedom, more than two years after the Emancipation Proclamation. Juneteenth is a celebration of delayed liberation, but also a solemn reminder that freedom has never been evenly or easily granted in this country. It is a reminder that erasure can take many forms beyond chains. Sometimes, it’s the quiet removal of stories, the reshaping of facts, or the refusal to acknowledge lived experiences.

In today’s climate, that truth feels especially urgent. Across the country, we are witnessing a resurgence of policies and rhetoric that aim to erase or suppress identity through book bans, anti-immigrant measures, and the erosion of Diversity, Equity & Inclusion efforts. Through these policies, our communities are faced with messages that our identities, histories, and expressions don't belong.

That is why, this June, I reclaim joy as protest.

I honor the lives of my ancestors by living mine in full color. I celebrate through storytelling, through music, and the cadence of my family’s voice. I resist through laughter, language, and legacy. Our joy has always been our act of survival. And in a world that tells us to be small, being ourselves, publicly, unapologetically, and joyfully, is an act of defiance.

As coaches, we walk alongside others as they explore identity, purpose, and self-expression. We cannot fully support our clients if we aren’t also acknowledging the systems that shape their experience and ours. Our work is to hold space for authenticity, and that includes recognizing that for some, simply showing up as themselves is a protest.

This month, and every month, may we celebrate joy not as an escape from injustice, but as a powerful response to it.

This article originally appeared in the June 2025 edition of the ICF New England DEIB newsletter. You can read the full edition here.

Thea Charles