How do we celebrate the Fourth of July when American freedom disappears? | Deborah Archer, Song Richardson and Susan Sturm

tHis celebration of freedom is empty in April of this year. The contradictions in commemorating our victory and victory feel fresh and dangerous, especially for those so far, relatively safe in the federal government’s commitment to democracy and the rule of law.

But contradictions are far from new. Black, brown and Indigenous communities have always seen the gap between the ideal of American democracy and the reality of being excluded. Frederick Douglass’s address in 1852 arrived at the slave on July 4? Americans are asked to face the hypocrisy of celebrating freedom, while millions are enslaved. Today, these contradictions persist with ongoing racial disparities and policies that enable segregation, second-class citizenship and selective protection of rights.

Just as the country seems to be working on estimation and repairs, we are now witnessing the dangerous rear gliding. Even when it comes to race and racism, our federal government is becoming increasingly hostile, actively dismantling decades of resolute protection. Every day brings new signs of anti-democratic movements – covering up civil rights, stimulating racial divisions and weapons that make the law dissident and deprive communities of weapons. This reversal of democracy – the flow of power upwards rather than outwards – is bold and universal.

The shocking effect of the federal excess touched everyone. People of all races, backgrounds and positions have lost their jobs, funds and trust in the institutions and have been seen as pillars of democracy. This rebound has revealed a familiar truth to marginalized communities: what the US says is not usually matched by its reality.

Still, despair is not a strategy. Democracy is not an audience movement. It is built and rebuilt by people who appear in communities, workplaces, schools and congregations who are determined to make freedom a reality. The most powerful response we see is not top-down, but grass-roots: people choose to act in smaller ways to defend democracy from positions.

We write three legal professionals – with different racial identities, favorable views and judicial approaches – but our understanding of the urgency of this moment is united to ask a question that might be counterintuitive to those who are trained in law: What steps can people do to improve democracy and equity outside the courts?

First, we cannot back down. Instead, we must overcome disillusionment, depression and exhaustion and recognize our connections in race, class, generation, and geographical. Authoritarianism thrives in disengagement and disconnection.

One way to stay connected and vibrant is to recognize that this transitional moment is also an opportunity to change our democracy. We can envision the future we want, which is bound by the limitations of the current moment. Then, from this future vantage point, assuming that this goal has been achieved, we can ask ourselves what we have done today makes this vision a reality. This view avoids asking “what should we do”, which limits our thinking in the current situation Instead, ask “What we did” allows us to go beyond the current challenges and limitations and instead create new opportunities and possibilities.

From a future perspective, we can ask: Where can I connect today? Where can I act today? What kind of change agent would I be today to create the future I envision?

Here are some ideas:

We can participate in decisions that are directly affected by injustice to shape their lives. We must focus on who thrives in our institutions, who are not who, and do the hard work to reimagine our institutions and systems. That is democracy in action.

A model from two Columbia law students that attracted high school students in Harlem and Queens to learn how local government works, the first step towards civic engagement and transformation. Another fold-up map project from artist Tonika Johnson, which pairs Chicago black residents with their white north side “map twins” to explore inequality in Stark’s community. The project promotes authentic relationships, interracial learning and grassroots alliances, while revealing the systemic racism behind the huge differences in infrastructure and investment.

There is also work under the radar. On campuses where prohibited or formal gut efforts are being made, faculty and staff are building informal alliances to maintain equity cooperation and resist institutional amnesia. In several states, even the court system is taking action to build partnerships between judges, attorneys and communities to address racial disparities to achieve judicial disparities.

Sometimes, opportunities for transformation appear in policy windows. In Indianapolis, the state’s plan to rebuild a major highway becomes an opportunity to rethink the alliance, from road engineering to community renewal. What is their vision? When the highway was first built, a process and result focused on repairing the harm to historically black communities. But it is not only ideas, but strategies that make this vision strong. Rethink helps put tools, data and technical expertise directly in the hands of community members so that they can be fully involved in the reshaping project. By democratizing access to program knowledge, they ensure that they will not only consult but also have the right to lead the residents. This is what it means to move towards the future.

It’s the kind of work that roots us in radical hope – a belief that the possibility of a shift in odds. This is the practice of democracy, not just its theory. All of us can use it.

As the attacks become louder, more coordinated, more entrenched, we must be more committed to acting with us with anyone – not only defending the vulnerable, unfinished projects of building multi-ethnic democracy, but also spending time dreaming about what we are stronger democracy and then taking the next best step in that direction in that direction, and the current stage is the moment of today.

If enough of us (who are involved in the differences at all levels, these efforts can add up to reimagine a country. The one that ultimately meets its commitments. One, one day, we can celebrate without conflict.

• Deborah N Archer is president of ACLU, Professor Margaret B. Huoping of New York University School of Law, and author of the Split Line: How Transportation Infrastructure Strengthens Racial Inequality. L Song Richardson is former dean and is currently a law professor at the University of California, Irving School of Law. She previously served as the president of the University of Colorado. Susan Sturm is the professor of law and social responsibility for George M Jaffin and the founding director of the Center for Institutional and Social Change at Columbia Law School, and may also be: With racism changing our institutions.