This story was originally published by CalMatters. Sign up for their newsletters.

Juneteenth is both a mirror and a question, reflecting the unfinished promises of the past and demanding answers about the future we are building now. This Juneteenth, as California faces widening economic pressure, climate instability and intense backlash against equity-centered work, it must be asked: Is California willing to move from celebrations of freedom to building the structural conditions for Black people to permanently thrive?

“Black permanency” is a vision in which Black communities are not simply surviving but firmly established, rooted and anchored by the resources and conditions to thrive for generations. It is also a rejection of the erasure happening across the country, in classrooms, in language, in data, in narratives about American history. It is a declaration that Black communities existed long before enslavement, that we belong in America’s history not merely as victims but as survivors — that our stories deserve to be preserved and told by us, and that our future should not depend on whether institutions deem us worthy of investment.

Over the last 18 months, federal policy has pushed Black women out of the workforce at more than three times the rate of other workers, yet Black-led organizations continue to serve as community first responders, distributing food, providing housing vouchers and filling gaps left by government retrenchment.

Recent disasters, including the Los Angeles wildfires, have exposed what Black communities have long known: Disaster does not hit all communities equally, and neither does recovery. In Altadena, a historic center of Black homeownership, community leaders have raised concerns about whether rebuilding efforts will preserve the community’s historic Black identity and allow families to remain. Who gets to stay, belong and pass stability forward?

At its core, that is the question Black permanency seeks to answer.

The philanthropic sector made sweeping pledges after the murder of George Floyd. Most have not held. Black-led nonprofits, two-thirds of which are run by Black women, remain the most underfunded in the sector. It is more than a gap. It is a pattern. Housing instability, displacement, the loss of cultural institutions and Black-led organizations being forced to continue working beyond their core missions are symptoms of structural underinvestment that philanthropy and policy have reinforced for decades.

The question before California is how to move from temporary progress to enduring transformation — systems that outlast political cycles and institutions that serve generations. That requires civic courage: a willingness to match California’s progressive identity with proof points, not talking points. Durable, community-designed investments. Reparations. Endowments in our institutions. Education that affirms our humanity. Capital that moves to Black founders, innovators and cultural protectors. Pay equity so Black women don’t have to wait until mid-July 2026 to earn the equivalent of what white men earned at the end of 2025.

It also means philanthropy shifting to multi-year general operating support and shared decision-making authority, and government paying nonprofits market rates so they are not subsidizing the safety net on their own balance sheets.

This need goes beyond racial justice. It is an economic and workforce development imperative. California’s Black-led organizations employed more than 4,000 people and generated more than $335 million in salaries in fiscal year 2023 alone. When Black women — who give back to their communities at exceptionally high rates — are economically stable, entire community networks are strengthened.

When Black-led organizations are adequately funded, entire local economies benefit.

Juneteenth marks the moment emancipation became reality, more than two years after the Emancipation Proclamation. That delay between law and lived freedom is the defining story of Black life in America. It must not define the next chapter.

California remains the only state to establish a reparations task force. While parades and picnics are nice, permanency is better. Funders, elected officials and civic leaders must treat Black permanency as a civic commitment and a tool for protecting democracy.

The arc of justice does not bend on its own. It bends because people refuse to let it straighten. On this Juneteenth, California should choose to bend its future toward Black permanency.