BLM Minnesota Honors Elders and Revolutionary Sistas at Juneteenth Brunch, Including Valerie Castile and MSR CEO Tracey Williams-Dillard
MSR editor Jasmine McBride reports on Black Lives Matter Minnesota's Juneteenth morning brunch honoring Valerie Castile with a Celebrating Revolutionary Sistas award, Jeweliean Jackson with the Juneteenth Legacy Award and community elders Marquitta Ransom and Dorothy Massey, with MSR CEO and Publisher Tracey Williams-Dillard also recognized and Robert Taliaferro Jr. sharing a remarkable story of incarceration and academic achievement.

On Juneteenth, June 19, Black Lives Matter Minnesota gathered elders, advocates and community members for a morning brunch to honor those who have carried the movement, and to hear what they have seen, survived and still hope for.
Among those honored was Valerie Castile, mother of Philando Castile, who was shot and killed by a St. Anthony police officer in 2016. She received the “Celebrating Revolutionary Sistas” award and accepted it with characteristic directness.
“I want to accept the award in honor of my son, because if he hadn’t been murdered, I don’t think I would be doing this work,” Castile said. “He started something that I continue.”
Ten years after her son’s death, Castile has paid out roughly $350,000 toward school lunch debt through her Philando Feeds the Children program, continuing the work Philando did quietly every day as a school cafeteria worker, learning every child’s name, knowing every allergy, making sure no child went hungry.
“I didn’t know anything about him paying for students’ lunch out of his own pockets,” she said. “But I felt like it was important to continue that, because our future is with our children.”
Castile used her platform to sound an alarm about looming federal funding cuts she said will devastate community organizations that keep Black youth off the streets and out of danger. “We have to do like our ancestors did,” she said. “We have to figure some stuff out. No one is going to save us. We have to save ourselves.”
Also honored was Jeweliean Jackson, who received the Juneteenth Legacy Award as a founding mother of Juneteenth in Minnesota. Jackson, who came to the state as one of the first Black stewardesses at Northwest Airlines and is approaching her 80th birthday, has spent decades as an educator and community builder, and carries the title of Lifetime National Miss Kwanzaa.
“I’ve been in the trenches for a long time, and I’m not used to being recognized,” Jackson said. “That’s not why I do it, but when it comes, it feels very good.”
For Jackson, the work has always been about passing something forward. “Part of what we do is share our skills and knowledgeโฆ pass the baton, and have the good sense to get out the way so y’all can go,” she said. “As you learn from me, I learn from you, and it never stops.”

Marquitta Ransom, 81, was born and raised in St. Paul’s Rondo neighborhood and offered one of the morning’s most vivid accounts of what was lost when I-94 was built through the heart of the community in the 1950s and 60s.
“You could see from St. Anthony all the way up. Nothing but a big hole, dust,” she recalled. “You couldn’t keep your windows open. You’d clean your house, open your windows, and your whole house would be full of dust again. A lot of people had nervous breakdowns. Some had heart attacks and died.”
Yet Ransom and her husband refused to leave. They fought for their land, built their home on Central Avenue and have lived there for more than 50 years. Her message to young people navigating today’s impossible housing market was rooted in that same resilience. “Black people, when they came here from the South, they had nowhere to live, but they doubled up in people’s homes,” she said. “They found jobs, saved their money, and were able to buy homes. That’s what we’re going to have to do.”

Dorothy Massey, also known as Laebai Sackey, was born and raised in Rondo as well and shared Ransom’s grief over what gentrification has taken. “I was born and raised here, and I can’t even afford to live in the city,” she said. “The things that we built hereโฆ they came in afterwards and just took advantage of it.” Even so, she said, “I love Minnesota because we’re still together here.”
Trahern Crews, co-founder of Black Lives Matter Minnesota and one of the event’s organizers, said honoring elders is inseparable from the work of commemoration. “Part of commemorating Juneteenth is honoring our elders and their legacy and what they’ve overcome,” he said.
Crews drew a clear line between civic representation and policy progress. “It’s good to get Black people elected, but actually getting the policies that Black people need: reparations, ending mass incarceration, closing the racial wealth gapโฆ those are the things we still have to fight for,” he said. Juneteenth 2026, he added, represents “resistance, pushing back, and demand of what’s owed to Black Americans.”

Robert Taliaferro Jr. came to the brunch with a story that spans Pittsburgh housing projects, U.S. Army intelligence deployments across Europe, 38 and a half years of incarceration and, now, a doctoral candidacy at St. Cloud State University at age 71.
While incarcerated at Stillwater, Taliaferro says he ran The Prison Mirror newspaper, transforming it into a nationally recognized, award-winning publication. After his release in 2022, he earned a bachelor’s degree from Metropolitan State University, where he received an outstanding student award and delivered the commencement address, followed by two master’s degrees. He is now pursuing his doctorate.
“I’m having a blast,” he said. “I’m having so much fun. It’s got to be illegal.”
For Taliaferro, Juneteenth is less a single day than a daily orientation toward history and survival. He cited W.E.B. Du Bois on what Black Americans have contributed to this country: the music, the art, the color, the ideas. He warns that failing to study history leaves communities blind to the patterns repeating now.
“If we don’t study those histories of what happened 40, 50, 60, 70 years ago, we might miss those same signs and symbols when it happens to our own people,” he said.
Minnesota Spokesman-Recorder Publisher and CEO Tracey Williams-Dillard was also recognized with a “Celebrating Revolutionary Sistas” award at the brunch.
The morning closed with the same urgency that has defined Valerie Castile’s decade of advocacy. The work Philando began in a school cafeteria, and the work these elders have carried for generations, belongs now to everyone in the room and beyond.
“We have to make sure we take care of our children,” Castile said. “That’s going to be on all of us.”
On Juneteenth, June 19, Black Lives Matter Minnesota gathered elders, advocates and community members for a morning brunch to honor those who have carried the movement, and to hear what they have seen, survived and still hope for.
Among those honored was Valerie Castile, mother of Philando Castile, who was shot and killed by a St. Anthony police officer in 2016. She received the “Celebrating Revolutionary Sistas” award and accepted it with characteristic directness.
“I want to accept the award in honor of my son, because if he hadn’t been murdered, I don’t think I would be doing this work,” Castile said. “He started something that I continue.”
Ten years after her son’s death, Castile has paid out roughly $350,000 toward school lunch debt through her Philando Feeds the Children program, continuing the work Philando did quietly every day as a school cafeteria worker, learning every child’s name, knowing every allergy, making sure no child went hungry.
“I didn’t know anything about him paying for students’ lunch out of his own pockets,” she said. “But I felt like it was important to continue that, because our future is with our children.”
Castile used her platform to sound an alarm about looming federal funding cuts she said will devastate community organizations that keep Black youth off the streets and out of danger. “We have to do like our ancestors did,” she said. “We have to figure some stuff out. No one is going to save us. We have to save ourselves.”
Also honored was Jeweliean Jackson, who received the Juneteenth Legacy Award as a founding mother of Juneteenth in Minnesota. Jackson, who came to the state as one of the first Black stewardesses at Northwest Airlines and is approaching her 80th birthday, has spent decades as an educator and community builder, and carries the title of Lifetime National Miss Kwanzaa.
“I’ve been in the trenches for a long time, and I’m not used to being recognized,” Jackson said. “That’s not why I do it, but when it comes, it feels very good.”
For Jackson, the work has always been about passing something forward. “Part of what we do is share our skills and knowledgeโฆ pass the baton, and have the good sense to get out the way so y’all can go,” she said. “As you learn from me, I learn from you, and it never stops.”
Marquitta Ransom, 81, was born and raised in St. Paul’s Rondo neighborhood and offered one of the morning’s most vivid accounts of what was lost when I-94 was built through the heart of the community in the 1950s and 60s.
“You could see from St. Anthony all the way up. Nothing but a big hole, dust,” she recalled. “You couldn’t keep your windows open. You’d clean your house, open your windows, and your whole house would be full of dust again. A lot of people had nervous breakdowns. Some had heart attacks and died.”
Yet Ransom and her husband refused to leave. They fought for their land, built their home on Central Avenue and have lived there for more than 50 years. Her message to young people navigating today’s impossible housing market was rooted in that same resilience. “Black people, when they came here from the South, they had nowhere to live, but they doubled up in people’s homes,” she said. “They found jobs, saved their money, and were able to buy homes. That’s what we’re going to have to do.”
Dorothy Massey, also known as Laebai Sackey, was born and raised in Rondo as well and shared Ransom’s grief over what gentrification has taken. “I was born and raised here, and I can’t even afford to live in the city,” she said. “The things that we built hereโฆ they came in afterwards and just took advantage of it.” Even so, she said, “I love Minnesota because we’re still together here.”
Trahern Crews, co-founder of Black Lives Matter Minnesota and one of the event’s organizers, said honoring elders is inseparable from the work of commemoration. “Part of commemorating Juneteenth is honoring our elders and their legacy and what they’ve overcome,” he said.
Crews drew a clear line between civic representation and policy progress. “It’s good to get Black people elected, but actually getting the policies that Black people need: reparations, ending mass incarceration, closing the racial wealth gapโฆ those are the things we still have to fight for,” he said. Juneteenth 2026, he added, represents “resistance, pushing back, and demand of what’s owed to Black Americans.”
Robert Taliaferro Jr. came to the brunch with a story that spans Pittsburgh housing projects, U.S. Army intelligence deployments across Europe, 38 and a half years of incarceration and, now, a doctoral candidacy at St. Cloud State University at age 71.
While incarcerated at Stillwater, Taliaferro says he ran The Prison Mirror newspaper, transforming it into a nationally recognized, award-winning publication. After his release in 2022, he earned a bachelor’s degree from Metropolitan State University, where he received an outstanding student award and delivered the commencement address, followed by two master’s degrees. He is now pursuing his doctorate.
“I’m having a blast,” he said. “I’m having so much fun. It’s got to be illegal.”
For Taliaferro, Juneteenth is less a single day than a daily orientation toward history and survival. He cited W.E.B. Du Bois on what Black Americans have contributed to this country: the music, the art, the color, the ideas. He warns that failing to study history leaves communities blind to the patterns repeating now.
“If we don’t study those histories of what happened 40, 50, 60, 70 years ago, we might miss those same signs and symbols when it happens to our own people,” he said.
Minnesota Spokesman-Recorder Publisher and CEO Tracey Williams-Dillard was also recognized with a “Celebrating Revolutionary Sistas” award at the brunch.
The morning closed with the same urgency that has defined Valerie Castile’s decade of advocacy. The work Philando began in a school cafeteria, and the work these elders have carried for generations, belongs now to everyone in the room and beyond.
“We have to make sure we take care of our children,” Castile said. “That’s going to be on all of us.”
Jasmine McBride welcomes reader responses at jmcbride@spokesman-recorder.com.
