(2 of 2) My maternal side is deeply rooted in Louisiana, in the heart of central Louisiana an area full of plantations along the Red River and Cane River. What I’ve been able to witness and learn is how I descend from early celebrators of Juneteenth on my maternal side in Louisiana. I’ve been able to interview elders from different plantations along the Cane River and Red River areas in Natchitoches parish to learn how sharecroppers observed and honored Juneteenth in the area. The celebrations were big for folks on the plantations, they stopped working on Juneteenth. They gathered, played music, prayed, ate goat for the special occasion, and even got a gumbo pot going.
They had one day to just *be* to celebrate, under the Louisiana humid hot sun, the emancipation of their ancestors, often ones who had labored on the same plantation just a couple of generations earlier under forced labor. After that day, they went back to laboring and life on a plantation, to a life similar to that of their elders who were bought and sold to plantations around the area. I, too, am a descendant of these folks, the ones who labored on some of the oldest plantations in the state of Louisiana and who also carried Juneteenth as a day of honor and remembrance, but with a Louisiana flare.
In this clip, I interviewed Elvin Shields, who grew up sharecropping on Oakland Plantation along the Cane River in Natchitoches, and he recalls how Juneteenth was celebrated in his home parish of Louisiana.
Followed by a photo of my ancestors at a nearby plantation across the parish along the Red River.
#blackhistory #history #blackhistoryfacts #Juneteenth #caneriver
Growing up learning about Juneteenth through my family’s stories, I’ve come to deeply appreciate how this day embodies both remembrance and resilience. In Louisiana, especially in areas like Natchitoches Parish along the Cane and Red Rivers, Juneteenth wasn’t just a holiday; it was a vital tradition passed down through generations. The sharecroppers and their families, despite facing hard labor and ongoing challenges, took this day to truly stop and celebrate freedom. From the oral histories I’ve heard, there was something profoundly unifying about gathering to play music, pray, and share traditional foods like goat and gumbo. These meals were communal and symbolized strength and togetherness. The humid Louisiana sun might have been intense, but the spirit of Juneteenth provided a day of relief, reflection, and joy amidst a backdrop of hardship. Listening to elders like Elvin Shields describe these moments, I’ve realized how important it is to honor these practices and remember the ancestors who endured slavery and sharecropping. For anyone interested in the cultural heritage of Black history in Louisiana, visiting these plantation areas and engaging with local stories brings a new level of understanding. It highlights how Juneteenth’s celebration in plantation regions carries unique flavors and traditions that differ from other parts of the country. In this way, Juneteenth is not only a historic milestone but also a living, breathing cultural event that continues to knit communities together and keep the memory of ancestors alive with dignity and pride.
