Close-up of unrecognizable black woman inserting twenty dollar bills into her wallet

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Juneteenth is a celebration of freedom, but it is also a reminder that freedom without economic security is incomplete. In a country where inflation is at a three year high — 4.2 percent year over year in May, according to the latest Consumer Price Index — too many Americans are feeling the squeeze in their grocery bills, gas, utility costs and every other line item that now seems to cost more than it did just a few months ago.

That pressure is part of a broader affordability crisis that has been building for years. Housing costs remain out of reach for too many families, with the median price of a new home out of the reach of most Americans. Even when wages inch upward, they often fail to keep pace with the actual cost of living. For many households, the result is a constant tradeoff between the essentials that keep life moving and the stability that makes life feel livable.

For Black women, that squeeze is not abstract. New polling from the Highland Project and brilliant corners Research and Strategies in collaboration with Springboard to Opportunities shows that 90 percent of Black women surveyed say economic conditions are getting worse, and more than half say their income is not keeping pace with the cost of living. That should be a wake-up call for anyone serious about opportunity, because Black women are not describing a temporary frustration — they are naming a structural problem that millions of Americans are currently feeling the strain of.

What makes this moment especially important is that the conversation about affordability is often too narrow. We talk about jobs, wages and price indices, but not enough about what it means to live with dignity when everything costs more and the systems meant to help are too hard to use. In the survey, having enough money to live comfortably scored higher for joy than for success, which tells us something profound: for many Black women, financial stability is not about status. It is about peace, relief and the ability to breathe.

That distinction, particularly on the occasion of Juneteenth meant to honor Black liberation, matters because the stakes go far beyond economics. When money is always tight, people are forced to choose between groceries and rent, between childcare and gas, between paying a bill and taking a needed break. The burden is not just financial. It is emotional, physical and spiritual — and it falls hardest on those who are already carrying the work of caring for families and communities.

Black women have long been the architects of solutions in this country, even when they have not been centered in the rooms where decisions are made. Yet more than two-thirds of those polled said lawmakers do not listen to Black women when designing assistance programs. That disconnect helps explain why so many policies fail to meet the moment: they are built around assumptions about what people need rather than the reality of how people live.

Too often, the public debate still treats poverty as an individual failure instead of a policy failure. But a woman working full time at low wages cannot budget her way out of rents that outpace pay, or childcare costs that swallow a paycheck, or food prices that keep climbing. Black women are giving us a roadmap for an economy that would benefit us all: fair wages, direct support, affordable childcare and systems that trust rather than punish.

The data makes clear that too many women feel harmed by our current systems of support. Forty percent said they felt disrespected if they’d had the experience of navigating the social safety net, a figure that should trouble anyone who believes public programs should serve people effectively. Any other system with a “D” grade would be considered a failure, and our leaders should be paying close attention to the lived experience of those who actually use public benefits as opposed to those who just design them.

There are antidotes to the problem of our status quo’s ineffective and punitive safety net. My organization runs the Magnolia Mother’s Trust, the country’s longest-running guaranteed income program that gives monthly cash payments to low-income Black mothers with no strings attached, along with support for planning and connection to community resources. It is a powerful example of the kind of economic policy Black women are asking for because it starts from the simple premise that mothers know best what their families need, and they should be trusted to use resources in the ways that make the most sense for their lives and create the conditions for joy.

Black women understand that success is holistic. It is spiritual. It is relational. It is grounded in family, faith and the ability to live without constant financial strain. That is not a narrow definition of well-being. It is a fuller one than many of our public policies are designed to recognize.

If policymakers are serious about helping families thrive, they need to start by listening. Listen to Black women when they say financial stability creates joy. Listen when they say the safety net should not feel degrading. Listen when they say economic policy is not just about survival, but about the right to rest, to care, to hope and to enjoy life.

This Juneteenth, that is the definition of freedom we should be focused on. True liberation should mean more than endurance. It should mean a fair shot at security, rest and a life that is not perpetually one unexpected bill away from crisis.