Last Sunday afternoon I attended a reading of Frederick Douglass’ epic speech, “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July.”

“This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him to join you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious irony. Do you mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak to-day?”

Frederick Douglass gave his oration at Corinthian Hall in Rochester, New York on July 5, 1852, upon the invitation of the Rochester Ladies Anti-Slavery Society; 76 years after the United States declared its independence, eight years before the outbreak of the Civil War, and two years after Congress passed the Fugitive Slave Act. For those of us with creaky history, the Fugitive Slave Act enabled slaves who had escaped north of the Mason-Dixon line to be apprehended and returned to slavery in the South. Details of this, our nation’s first law that cast the shadow of slavery over the entire country, include the fact that testimony of two people could send a Black person south to slavery, while the accused person was not allowed to testify. Meanwhile, Judges who ruled for the Black person received five dollars for their effort; ten dollars if they determined in favor of slavery.

“There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of these United States, at this very hour.”

Frederick Douglass’ speech is a glorifying salute to our nation’s noble intent, and a chilling recitation of how far we have still yet to come 173 years on. Though it’s true that slavery is illegal, (at the cost of 600,000 American Civil War deaths), we are still a nation mired in the paradox of proclaiming equality while practicing discrimination at an institutional scale. His words speak directly to our here and now.

“{We have created] a religion which favors the rich against the poor; which exalts the proud above the humble; which divides mankind into two classes, tyrants and slaves.”

The event was held under a big tent on the front lawn of the First Baptist Church in Jamaica Plain. My friend Jackie Scott offered the introduction and was the first of nine readers, each of whom read an abridged version of the speech (which still ran to forty minutes). Ah, the attention span of nineteenth century audiences! The event was offered by Mass Humanities, which is sponsoring over fifty readings of this disquieting yet inspiring speech throughout the Commonwealth this summer. Although there is value in reading these important words, there’s magic in sitting still and hearing them delivered with the conviction initially intended. Find a reading near you and go hear the words of a great man who wanted nothing more for himself and his people than all of us want for our own.