Juneteenth, celebrated with my family in Roxbury, a historic black neighborhood in Boston, is a cherished memory for me. It stands out in my childhood memories of instability, loss, and conflict. Juneteenth was (and still is) a big block party called Roxbury Homecoming. Juneteenth commemorates the day when blacks who were once slaves learned they were free and celebrated their newfound emancipation. As I look back over the last year, I reflect on what the next wave of black emancipation should look like. Blacks have come so far, but still have a long way to go.

Black families are still less well-off than white families. Regardless of education, the unemployment rate for blacks is twice that of whites. A little over a year after the murder of George Floyd, black lives are still being lost to police violence and an unjust criminal legal system: blacks are three times more likely than whites to be killed by police and five times more likely to be imprisoned. Personally, I think about 16-year-old Makia Bryant, who tragically met her end when she was shot by a police officer who rushed to her sister's aid. Despite tremendous anxiety and trauma and moving from one relative's home to another and from one foster care system to another, Macia remained an excellent student and sister.

My siblings grew up in public housing, often receiving food stamps and bouncing between foster and relative homes. This instability began when I was only 8 months old when my mother was killed in a car accident on her way to visit my father in prison. Every day I think about the many Black girls and boys, just like us, growing up in and out of foster care, in families affected by incarceration and loss. These are, sadly, generational chains of poverty and trauma perpetuated by systemic inequality.

Children in foster care face a disproportionate risk of incarceration. A quarter of foster care graduates will become involved in the criminal legal system within two years of leaving foster care. And if you are a black youth in foster care, your situation is compounded by the fact that black youth are subject to school discipline and crime at a disproportionate rate: black students make up 15% of the national K-12 student population, but 31% of law enforcement referrals and school and 26% of all arrests at school. According to several studies, Black youth are four times more likely to be suspended from school than White youth. As a result of these suspensions, Black youth are more likely to fail to graduate from high school, increasing the likelihood of incarceration, also known as the school-to-prison pipeline.

By the grace of God and the opportunity provided by the City of Boston and Boston Public Schools to overcome the long odds, I am now serving my third term on the Boston City Council and running to be the first black woman elected mayor of Boston. But my twin brother Andre did not, and he passed away nine years ago, at the young age of only 29, as a pretrial detainee in the custody of the Department of Corrections.

For me, my work as a public servant has always been driven by one question: to break the cycle of trauma, poverty, criminalization, and inequality. My brother Andre was funny, compassionate, sensitive, and incredibly smart. We were inseparable. Andre, like many black boys, was not. He was disciplined and often removed from school along with his peers for "behavioral problems." I was accepted to the Boston Latin School, then to Princeton University, and finally to UCLA Law School. Andre would graduate from high school with far fewer resources and opportunities. He would bounce in and out of the criminal legal system, unable to find his footing, and eventually died in a state prison without adequate treatment for his scleroderma.

Now, as a mother, I look at my two young black boys (ages 1.5 and 3) and want them to be given every opportunity. More than that, I want their humanity to be valued. To make that happen, we need systemic reform and leaders who understand these disparities firsthand. Boston is a reflection of this country, with shocking disparities in wealth between racial groups. The median net worth of a white family is $250,000, while the median net worth of a black family is $8 (opens in new tab). In Boston, blacks accounted for 70% of stop-and-frisk cases in one year, even though they make up only a quarter of the city's population (opens in new tab). Half of Boston Public Schools students do not graduate from college (opens in new tab). We know that when our ancestors celebrated the first Juneteenth, they hoped for a better outcome and a brighter future for themselves and their families, but instead, many were greeted with policies that were intentionally racist and exclusionary.

Since being elected in 2015, I have used my lived experience to develop policies that confront these inequities and promote systemic reform. I have also successfully advocated for city investments in youth employment and youth development programs to break the cycle of crime, and fought to reallocate funds from policing to community-based programs and other strategies that address the root causes of violent behavior.

The Mayor has the power to change many things with the stroke of a pen. We need an executive who will use that power to truly and finally eradicate the systemic and racial inequalities that I and black people across this country have known and lived with for generations. Then we can truly be free from the cycle of violence and crime in communities of color that build wealth and ownership, excellent education, good jobs, affordable housing, mental health services, addiction treatment, youth programs and jobs, community-based violence prevention and intervention programs, interrupted by expanding access to initiatives. The cycle of criminalization that begins in our schools will be exacerbated by eliminating School Resource Officers, who studies show exacerbate existing excessive disciplinary practices against black and brown children, and by increasing the number of school counselors, mental health clinicians, and social workers Restorative Justice approach can be destroyed by implementing.

If only a fraction of these efforts had been available to Andre, he might still be alive today, watching my sons grow up, or starting a family of his own. This Juneteenth, we need to not only celebrate emancipation, but also boldly think about and lead the next steps for racial justice and liberation. We must break the cycle of poverty, trauma, criminalization, and intergenerational injustice, and ensure that no more young black lives like Macias and Andre's are cut short.

Andrea Campbell is a city councilor for Boston's 4th District and a candidate for mayor of Boston.