‘Black Joy’ Is a Form of Currency

Kids on stilts with painted faces showed braces as they smiled. Older men in classic cars with gorgeous paint jobs drove slowly, blasting bass-heavy hip-hop through huge sound systems.

There were line dancers, incense salesmen, roller skaters, photographers, culinary artists and elected officials all present for the 9th annual Black Joy Parade.

Half the world away from the African continent, over 100,000 people from its diaspora made the pilgrimage to downtown Oakland throughout Sunday afternoon. Collectively, the faces ranged from coffee-bean brown to macchiato tan — a marvelously melanated sea of humans.

After spending more than 12 hours at the event, three things became clear to me: Black joy requires work, Black joy costs and Black joy is worth it.

Black Joy requires work

By 8 a.m., the Regulars Only collective and I were standing in a lot on Franklin Street and Thomas L. Berkley Way, reading instructions and drilling screws as we put together a dozen wooden outdoor lounge chairs and a handful of small tables.

The furniture was part of the Exhale Lounge installation, an experience we co-curated with DJs Pee Dot Scott and TheBrandon, as well as The Neighborhood Plant Dealer, Hella Creative and Air Maxine — a group that regularly hosts a series of game nights called Bones, Books & Bingo.

We represented one of over a dozen installations and pop-ups at the event, which included a bunch of food vendors, a kids area and a location for collective mediation. There was a video game truck on one side and a skate park on the other, plus cowboys on horseback, anime action figures, a cigar lounge and more.

As the day started, streets were blocked off for the parade route, and artists took to the stage for soundcheck. From our lot we could hear the warming vocals of R&B royalty Mya, the event’s headlining artist.

Black Joy Parade founder Elisha Greenwell Dargan, executive producer Paige Nicholson and other members of the organization moved about, tirelessly working to ensure a successful day.

Everything that goes into creating and sustaining a gathering of this magnitude can’t be understated. One volunteer told me she started her shift at 6 a.m. And I know for a fact the planning for this celebration started many months prior.

We worked on our installation for a few weeks but still had to run errands the night before the parade. Our goal was to create a backyard kickback in the middle of downtown, complete with games, plants, comfortable chairs and a fire pit. And of course, if you have a fire pit you need to have the ingredients for making s’mores.

Black joy not only requires elbow grease and sweat equity, but financial capital and liquid assets.

Black Joy costs

The parade itself ran from 14th Street down Broadway, all the way to West Grand. The festival portion of the celebration was concentrated to a few blocks in uptown. It’s mind-boggling to even begin wrapping my mind around the total cost of permits for an event of this size, as well as security and the clean-up effort afterwards.

During the celebration, everywhere I turned people were making money. Folks sold fine art and photos, clothing and headwear. There was an area dedicated to Black wines, a beer garden and a Hennessy bar. Topicals, medicines and crystals were sold in one place. At another, a chef was dishing out servings of gumbo next to a stand where a person was selling cannabis.

People made investments before even pulling up to the event— it showed in their fashion. Folks wore high-end designers, custom-made coats and rare fly kicks. Some were in shiny jewelry and bedazzled bags; others rocked fresh haircuts and hairdos.

There wasn’t just money invested: People put in time and energy as well.

The buck for Black joy didn’t stop there. People gambled, risking parking tickets or towed cars as they left their automobiles parked in red zones to attend the celebration.

Some folks missed money as they took the day off from work; others decided to show up late for their jobs. People traveled from across the state, and some came from out of state to be a part of one of the biggest annual African American parades on the West Coast.

Some event-goers even risked running into exes or standing in circles with folks with opposing political views. With all the cost of being in the mix, the value of Black joy still outweighs the fees.

Black Joy is worth it

This year marks 100 years since Carter G. Woodson launched Negro History week in 1926, which has now grown into Black History Month. And for nearly a decade, the Black Joy Parade has provided the Bay Area with a celebratory ending to February.

The parade is a day of radical happiness, with daps and hugs all around. It’s a family reunion on top of a BBQ during a church revival and a hip-hop concert. And as I made my rounds yesterday, I checked in with my tribe.

My former student Askari showed me photos of his six-month old child. An elementary school friend named Jia, pregnant with her second baby, held her first child’s hand as he fell asleep. An old neighborhood friend, Delando, who met his wife at one of our Regulars Only parties, introduced me to their child.

An entrepreneurial photographer shared his plans of moving to Mexico; a pair of OUSD teachers gave me updates on their work in the classroom; and a colleague from college told me about her experience working for the Golden State Warriors.

I moved through the crowds, listening to people utter “excuse mes” after bumping into one another. Toward the end of the event, I got caught in the crosshairs of a small conflict. It taught me a few things, namely that I can’t put out social fires and not expect to catch some smoke.

During the course of the event I missed 13 phone calls, but gave big hugs to everyone I saw — everyone who was within an arm’s reach. Sure, liquor was spilled and the portable toilets were filthy by the end of the night, but the lingering impact of the event is pristine.

Where else can you find this many beautiful people in one place?

At what other event can you share space with elected officials like Congresswoman Lateefah Simon and Oakland Mayor Barbara Lee, as well as hip-hop artists like Richie Rich and StunnaMan02?

Where else can you find DJs spinning Miami bass, Afrobeats and house, only to break into an R&B set honoring the late local luminary D’Wayne Wiggins?

As people roasted marshmallows over the fire pit in our Exhale Lounge, I could hear Mya performing in the distance.

Packing up our installation and picking up trash, I finally had a moment to think. After a full day in downtown Oakland, I gained a new appreciation for the amount of work and costs that go into hosting a festival of this size.

Some people made money selling food or art, and others received funding through brand partnerships. But for many, there’s no paycheck that can offset the amount of time, energy and spirit that goes into holding space.

The only real currency is joy.