By Candace Moore
This year’s annual celebration of Juneteenth, in contrast with the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, challenges us to consider the difference between a promise for freedom and the power required to actually realize it.

Credit: AFRO Illustration / Kofi Tyus
Juneteenth is a reminder that our country’s founding promises have never been brought to life for people of color by declaration alone.
Despite the 1776 founding promise of our country that “all men are created equal” and have a divine right by their creator to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” even the smallest glimmer of that reality for most Black people in this country took hundreds of years of resilience in the face of tremendous violence. It took winning landmark cases in the courts and passing foundational legislation like the Civil Rights Act and Voting Rights Act, none of which could be possible without the tireless organizing, mobilization and racial solidarity of millions across space and time.
And now in 2026, as we find ourselves fighting against the greatest destruction of our civil rights and liberties in modern history, many people are asking whether the promise of democracy has in reality failed? In answering this question it is important that we get clear on what we are really fighting for: is it new promises or a new kind of power?
The promise of a multiracial democracy that works for all of us cannot be achieved through electoral or institutional representation alone. We need to consider new ways that people of color can build power. We will never elect the perfect candidates who make all the right decisions to the challenges that face our communities. We will never produce enough homegrown CEOs that can provide the kind of economic prosperity that ensures everyone in our communities can thrive. Having representative leaders of our governing institutions does not mean that we should completely give up our power and hope for the best. Instead electing and choosing leaders should be about identifying people who we can trust to be our partners and work collaboratively to shape our lives.
Our shared history has shown us time and again that communities of color across this nation have long faced structural barriers that have attempted to diminish their power to shape decisions that govern their lives. But history also teaches us there is a different way we can consider building and growing our power. Co-governance is a strategy that focuses on creating structures that support community and government coming together into genuine partnership and making shared-decisions to co-create policy and practical solutions. This strategy builds on the power of both community and government and fosters a collective power that produces more impactful and sustainable results.
Co-governance has its roots in indigenous communities who have long embodied the values of shared-decision making and collective accountability. Today this continues to be a part of indigenous governance practices in places like New Mexico, where tribal nations have set up co-management agreements with federal and state agencies over ancestral land.
The principles of shared governance are also deeply rooted in the Black freedom struggles. Leaders like Fannie Lou Hamer, whose organizing efforts are most famously known for driving the passage of the Civil Rights Act and Voting Rights Act, were simultaneously organizing for economic justice rooted in shared power to reach shared opportunity. In 1967, Hamer started the Pig Bank (aka Pig Project) which was a community-rooted strategy for loaning pigs to families for breeding and food, and in return those families would give their first pair of piglets back to the Pig Bank to support other families. This would be the precursor to the Freedom Farm Cooperative that she later formed in 1969, which grew into a cooperative farm of about 700 acres, a collection of small businesses, and about 200 units of low-income housing, many of which still exist today in Ruleville, Miss.
Both of these examples demonstrate a connected history of communities of color understanding that the key to building sustainable protection and prosperity for their people is rooted in shared decision-making power of the land and resources that shaped their lives.
These are lessons that still live on today as communities tap into the power of co-governance strategies to face some of the most wicked problems emerging across the nation. Perhaps one of the most wicked challenges we have faced in modern history is the COVID-19 pandemic that had devastating impacts worldwide. During this time, I served in the Mayor’s Office of Equity and Racial Justices as Chicago’s first chief equity officer and would get one of my greatest lessons on the power and potential of co-governance, even before I knew what it was.
During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, then Mayor Lori Lightfoot stood up a Racial Equity Rapid Response team, composed of city officials, hospital and university executives, and leaders from Black and Latino neighborhoods most impacted by the crisis. The challenge faced collectively by this new group was to produce meaningful actions that would reduce the rapidly growing disparities in infections and death rates caused by the virus. As a collaboration, we shared information and resources to help all partners better understand how systems worked and the needs communities were facing. We made shared decisions on what strategies we would advance, and we shared accountability for both the failures and successes of our work. Together, we were able to deploy targeted and customized emergency resources to communities most impacted by the pandemic, including thousands of units of PPE, food and personal supplies, and financial assistance. We were also able to use our insights to help shape the citywide strategy for an equitable vaccination deployment and influenced the city health department in building more long-term strategies and investments for building community power in addressing public health challenges. Taken all in, I know because we worked together, we were able to save more lives than any of us could have alone.
At the time, I understood that there was something unique in what we were doing, but didn’t have the language of co-governance to describe it. I understood that we were concretely building power for communities most impacted by harm. I understood that this was a powerful way to deliver real resources and solutions.
As I would go on to be introduced to the concept of co-governance, I learned that it is a strategy that provides a unique alternative to top-down systems of government as the best and only way to solve problems. Co-governance invites communities to be experts in their own experience, co-creators of solutions, and evaluators of success. It builds institutional knowledge and capacity in those who have been systematically denied power. At its core, it is about changing the relationship more broadly for communities that have historically been failed by government and democracy. And although it is not the singular antidote to all the challenges of our democracy, it does hold a bold promise of a different kind of power we can build moving forward. This will allow us to realize something that can work better for us all. Isn’t that the point?
The opinions expressed in this commentary are those of the writer and not necessarily those of the AFRO.

