By: Gina Dewar
As a proud Latina, I’ve attended countless cultural events throughout my life—each one teaching me something new about identity, resilience, and the power of community. But this year’s Juneteenth celebration at the University Club atop Symphony Towers in San Diego was different. It wasn’t just a celebration; it was an invitation—to listen, to connect, and to stand in solidarity.
The panoramic views from the 34th floor were stunning, but what truly elevated the evening was the warmth and strength of the people gathered to honor such a historic moment. Juneteenth—the day that commemorates the emancipation of enslaved African Americans in the United States—is a powerful reminder of freedom deferred and the ongoing struggle for justice. And while I am not Black, as a Latina, I understand deeply what it feels like to navigate systems that weren’t built for us, to fight for visibility, dignity, and equity (especially now in 2025).
The moment I walked into the event, I felt it wasn’t just a formal gathering or an obligatory program. There was joy, there was elegance, and most importantly, there was intention. The room was filled with Black excellence and allies alike, united not just to celebrate a date in history, but to continue the legacy of resistance and hope.
And then Marla Marshall greeted us, not just as La Revista Binacional, but as the good friends we have become.
Marla, who welcomed everyone with a presence that felt both regal and inviting, changed the tone of the evening as she initiated the program. Her words were simple but impactful. She said, “You being here matters.”
And in that moment, I felt the weight of that truth. Showing up does matter. Our presence in each other’s stories matters. As communities of color, our liberation is intertwined. Our histories are different, but the roots of our struggles often grow from the same soil—colonialism, racism, erasure.
Marla’s greeting became symbolic of the broader experience of the evening: a celebration not only of Black history but of shared purpose and mutual uplift. I was reminded that allyship isn’t a performance, it’s a choice we make repeatedly, in big and small ways, to stand with one another. It’s showing up, listening deeply, and amplifying voices that need to be heard. It’s essential to understand that justice for one group is never at the expense of another: it’s a step toward justice for all.
Throughout the evening, Black Excellence panelists shared their stories. They honored the legacy of Juneteenth with powerful words, thoughts, and perspectives that stirred the soul. It felt like we were all standing at the intersection of pain and progress. (A big hug to all of them: Dr. Debra McLaren, Judge Euketa Oliver, Jordan Harrison, Judge Sharon Majors-Lewis, and Al Aboallah. You made me smile but also reflect on a lot of things we have in common).
I thought of Latinos, who crossed borders in search of better lives, who endured exploitation and prejudice but still managed to build joy and community even with the pain of leaving their natal country. And I thought of how many parallels exist in the Black and Latino experience in this country—of how much stronger we are when we recognize each other’s fights and stand shoulder to shoulder.
As the sun dipped below the skyline, casting a warm glow across the glass walls of the University Club, I realized I wasn’t leaving the same way I had entered. I carried something new—a renewed sense of responsibility, of solidarity, and of hope.
This Juneteenth celebration wasn’t about looking back—it was about forging forward. About creating space for voices that have been silent for too long. About making room at the table, not just for inclusion but for true belonging.
And as a Latina, I left feeling honored to be part of it. I am grateful for the stories I heard, the history I learned, and the hands I held in solidarity.
To THE UNIVERSITY CLUB ATOP SYMPHONY TOWERS: Thank you for your inclusivity and for always making us feel like we belong to your amazing club.
To Marla Marshall—thank you. Your kindness was more than a welcome; it was a lesson. One thing I won’t forget.
Because freedom, in its truest form, is something we build together.