AFJ’s Tea with the ED: The Gap Between Promised and Delivered

There are days when I can feel the tank hitting empty. The fluorescent hum of the Manhattan Criminal Court. The paperwork. The policies. The slow grind of systems that were never built with our young people in mind. Yet, when I head to Harlem or the Lower East Side, my gas meter changes. The moment I walk through the doors of one of our community centers, something shifts. The laughter, the joy, the energy, the bright faces, the safety of our young people -- it fills me back up every single time.

As we approach Juneteenth, I've been sitting with its significance: it marks the day in 1865 when enslaved people in Galveston, TX finally learned they were free. Two and a half years after the Emancipation Proclamation had already been signed.

Freedom delayed. Freedom withheld. That gap between what was promised and what was delivered is not just a historical footnote.

It is a pattern. And it is one we are still living through.

Within months of emancipation, Black Codes swept across the South, effectively re-enslaving Black people through the criminal legal system. The 13th Amendment, which abolished slavery, contained an exception: except as punishment for crime. That exception became a blueprint.

Fast forward to the War on Drugs in the 1970s and 80s. Mandatory minimums. Three-strikes laws. Stop and frisk. Each policy wave disproportionately sweeping Black and Brown people, particularly young people.

Absolute Equality by Sam Collins III (2021, Galveston, Texas). Inspired by the words of General Order No. 3, the artwork reflects the distance between the promise of freedom and the reality of justice. It reminds us that while emancipation marked a beginning, the pursuit of true equality remains unfinished.

Today, the United States incarcerates more people than any other nation. Black Americans are incarcerated at nearly five times the rate of white Americans. And the young people we serve at Avenues for Justice (AFJ) are not abstractions in these statistics. They are the living consequence of decisions made generations before they were born.

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it means to lead at this particular moment. We are living through a time when there are real, organized efforts to erase this history, to silence conversations about race, about systems, about the truth of how we got here.

And I've had to ask myself: what does leadership look like when the ground keeps shifting? What do I owe to the young people I've spent two decades walking alongside?

The answer I keep coming back to is: honesty. We must be willing to tell the truth, even when it's uncomfortable. Especially when it’s uncomfortable.

That's why this month we're talking about The True History of Mass Incarceration in America. I want you to read our latest VOICES Blog, not because it's easy, but because it's necessary. Because you can't build something better on a foundation you're unwilling to look at clearly.

I often think about a young man named Aaron. Eighteen years old. Entrepreneur. Intern. Leader. Father. Aaron is the kind of person who makes you understand, in your bones, why this work matters. He has faced more than most adults I know, legal system involvement, real responsibilities, real stakes, and yet he shows up every single day with maturity and grace that honestly humbles me.

Aaron is not an exception. He is the rule. Our centers are full of Aarons. And every single one of them is navigating systems that were shaped long before they were born, systems built on disinvestment and inequity that has been passed down like an inheritance nobody asked for.

Next week, we'll share Aaron's story in full. I hope you'll read it.

That's the history we need to reckon with. Not to stay stuck in it, but because Aaron, and every young person like him, deserves a future built on something honest.

Justice in Action is the framework we've chosen for this next chapter of our work. It means we're willing to go deeper, into the history, into the hard conversations, into the systemic realities that shape daily life for young Black and Brown people across this country. It means we're not just intervening in a moment; we're trying to change what the moment is made of.

So, pour yourself something. Might be too warm for tea. Read the VOICES blog. And stay with us this month as we do this work together.

Because Juneteenth isn't just a celebration. It's a reminder that freedom on paper and freedom in practice are not the same thing. And until they are, this is Justice in Action.

P.S. Go Knicks!!! What an epic comeback, phenomenal win, and important lesson that a 29-point deficit does not mean that it is game over!

Liz Frederick

Executive Director

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