It’s the ‘Black Joy Parade’ for me

Last week I gave a guest lecture on travel writing to a college class in Oakland, California. I encouraged students to think expansively about all the ways we travel every day—navigating public and cultural spaces not made for us, translating and codeswitching, summers spent going down south, back east, up north, out west.

Afterwards, a young Black woman who said she had anxiety about leaving the U.S. but was now inspired, stayed behind to ask questions—a lot of them. One, I’ll never forget: “What if I’m so overwhelmed by the beauty of being in a Black country,” she said, “that I fall to the ground crying and can’t get up?”

Later that evening I recounted the encounter to my husband, teary-eyed at the joy and the pain embedded in her question. My husband is from Nigeria, Africa’s most populous nation, one of those Black countries that could drop you to the ground. It felled me when, at age twenty-six, after a lifetime in predominantly white institutions and environments, I visited for the first time and found my family.

“Yeah, that’s something we Nigerians take for granted,” my husband reflected. “And no matter where you travel in the world and what they may think about Africans, you carry your Black homeland inside you.”

One way to get that experience without having to leave the country is by traveling to Black festivals. Serendipitously, Oakland’s very own Annual Black Joy Parade, an example of the overwhelming beauty of a Black nation, was scheduled for just four days after my talk. As the young sistah departed the classroom, I said maybe I’d see her there.

On Sunday I awoke to rain. Sure, the parade is billed as Rain or Shine, but were Blackfolks really going to pour into the streets in the cold and wet, I wondered, especially after last year’s epic celebration with 30,000 attendees cheering 115 parade contingents? As an introvert, I brightened at the possibility of smaller crowds then guiltily pushed the thought away as I pulled on my rainboots.

For six years, the Black Joy Parade (BJP) has been a volunteer-driven community effort based on the simple principle that we all need more Black joy. Too often the community gathers around trauma and loss. What if we came together to “Honor, Celebrate, Amplify”? Founder Elisha Greenwell’s idea for a “hyper-positive, family-friendly turn up” caught on quickly. The inaugural parade, held in 2018 on the final Saturday of Black History Month, drew 14,000 onlookers for a procession approximately five blocks long. By year two, it was attracting brand partners and local and national press.

At this year’s press preview, Peter Gamez, President/CEO of Visit Oakland, reported that BJP, the largest free, family-friendly event of its kind in California, and affiliated events like the cocktail crawl, night market, queer cinema pop-up, open mic and community bike ride have become travel destinations. Black tourists pour into the inspiration for Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, temporarily reversing the displacement that’s been going on for four decades. Black residents currently make up just 20 percent of Oakland’s population, down from 47 percent in 1980, but you couldn’t tell that on Sunday.

There might have been fewer spectators, but the rain didn’t appear to dampen the spirits of performers and participants, many of whom danced in transparent rain slickers and bonnets. There were youth on Scraper Bikes, spokes decorated with tinfoil, candy wrappers and painted cardboard, that originated in Oakland, stilt-walkers and costumed kids from Prescott Circus Theatre, Double Dutch teams, marching bands, drum groups, cheer squads, dance troupes, and organizations like Black teachers and Black book clubs. As usual, members of Oakland’s Black Cowboy Association brought up the rear, horses high-stepping over the rain-splattered asphalt, delighting adults and children alike.

The Black Cultural Zone, a downtown festival area, offered a roller-skating rink, healing village, family-friendly activity area called Lil Joy, and 200 Black vendors in tents and trucks selling refreshments, clothing, and handicrafts. I made a beeline for Black Vines, an entire corridor of vinters and winemakers pouring tastes. Two nearby stages featured musical performances, including the all-volunteer Black Joy Choir, DJs spinning Afropop and headliner Parliament Funkadelic with George Clinton himself.

Other highlights were The Hundreds Unit, a Sacramento-based dance crew of women of all shapes, sizes, ages, and ability levels draped in white. For the second year, they nabbed “Best in Flow,” one of four distinctions honoring locals who bring “the most joy to the streets.” BJP also confers Icons Among Us awards to give local cultural activists their flowers (literally) while they’re still among us.

This year’s Icons—music educator/advocate Dr. Angela Wellman, Black food and wine advocate Aminah “Chef Mimi” Robinson, and dancer/deaf advocate Antoine Hunter—were announced at a flower-filled luncheon. As Hunter spoke about wanting Black folks to see beyond his deafness and embrace him, I found myself moved to tears once again. On Sunday, the Icons Among Float glided through the damp streets, flanked by joyful dancers, mapping the contours of the most beautiful Black country you could visit.

Faith Adiele founded the nation’s first writing workshop for travelers of color through VONA. Her award-winning memoir MEETING FAITH routinely makes travel listicles, and her travel media credits include A WORLD OF CALM (HBO-Max), Sleep Stories (CALM app), and MY JOURNEY HOME (PBS). A member of the Black Travel Alliance, she publishes in HERE MAGAZINE, OFF ASSIGNMENT, BEST WOMEN’S TRAVEL WRITING, OPRAH MAGAZINE, ESSENCE and others. Find her in Oakland, Finland, Nigeria or @meetingfaith.

This story was originally published March 13, 2023 at 10:13 PM with the headline "It’s the ‘Black Joy Parade’ for me."