My Essence Fest Trip Touched My Soul

I have been on a break from writing because I got caught up in the end of the school year. Then, I got caught up in my summer break and cleaning and gardening and exercising and visiting loved ones. Then, I got caught up in fighting the dread that is infinitely worse than the Sunday Scaries: returning to public school education. I have so much to write about and it is all just sitting in my brain. And although my summer break is shorter than others', I did get space to travel briefly and experience new things--something that getting paid affords me (the ability to travel) but being in schools systems in the Tampa Bay area does not afford me (experiencing new things).

I have heard that there has been a lot of negative commentary about this year's Essence Festival. I have only listened to one YouTuber on the subject matter. But this was my first time attending so I cannot compare it to other years. And I am at a turning point in my life– the type of turning point that requires big actions and not just reflecting.

Essence Fest was part business and part pleasure for me. On the business end, I got to see how businesses operate from set-up to closing. Seeing Black people manage their day-to-day affairs was inspiring because mainstream media (white people and their spaces and their collaborators in oppression) will have us believe:

• that we are terrible at customer service
• that we do not support Black businesses
• that we are not interested in learning
• that we cannot communicate
• that we are violent
• that we are lazy/unmotivated
• that we do not have diverse interests, and
• that we are a monolith.

On the pleasure end, I was absolutely enthused to be surrounded by Black people, Black food, Black vendors, Black products, Black music, Black topics, and the Black city of New Orleans. Too often I have been the only Black person, or one of a few Black people, in spaces in public school education (Even at majority Black or majority minority schools, most staff members are white. At the District level, it is even whiter. My best years were when I was on a team with Black people as the majority or at a school with at least a handful of Black people.) At Essence Fest, Black was everywhere and everything.

When surrounded by Black people, I just get to be a person. I can be as plain or as "exotic" as I feel like being. I can be as reticent or as boisterous as each situation evokes in any given moment. I can speak in lyrics, movie lines, cultural literature, and Ebonicussinqueenglish without stumbling for words and references that would seem more "neutral." I can sit on the wall or dance in a crowd...or sit in a crowd and dance on the wall. I be Black af.

When surrounded by whites, there is this constant pressure to be as they are and do as they do (And there are severe consequences for not acquiescing.). White people enjoy me more when I don't make them feel uncomfortable by being...Black. And I am at my most miserable when I am surrounded by white people and their collaborators who insist on me being...not so me (They say I am "aggressive;" but I like to make things great things happen. They say that I am "resistant;" but I detest group think. They say I like to do my own thing; and I do. I really do.). I can mask (and lie about) various identities on a day-to-day, situation-to-situation basis. But when I walk into the room, I show up unambiguously Black American.

A family member introduced me to one of the speakers at Essence Fest: Bozoma Saint John. Being enmeshed primarily in public school education issues, I did not know of her. However, her speech about showing up as YOU and not assimilating in order to be your best self had me captivated in the way that I see people listening to Passa preach the word. Bozoma took me to church. I could not take my eyes nor ears off her.

Bozoma said [paraphrased] that we need Black people in work spaces. We need us and THEY need us because we think differently...we move differently...we do differently. This resonated with me profoundly. In the 15 or so minutes that she spoke, I was simultaneously able to reflect on my experiences in public school education and something that my Black mother recently said to me:

They hire you to do the job that they themselves cannot do. But then you come in and [try to] do it and they want you to think and behave as THEY do.

And I combined this with what my Black male mentor said to me a few years ago:

They hire you because you look good on paper. You have the credentials that they need. You have the education that they need. And you have the experience that they need. You meet the items on their checklists. But when you get in and try to do shit...to change shit... to problem-solve THEIR shit...they didn't ask you to do all that....because THEY didn't do all that. They couldn't do all that. And they don't want to do all that. And so you make them look bad.

Research in public school education has shown that all students benefit from having Black teachers. Black teachers matter. Black educators at all levels matter. We are in a system not created by us nor for us. We study and follow the theories of the white men (and their collaborators) of yesteryear. White is right. How dare we show up Black! How dare I show up Black!

Bozoma told me to show up uniquely me. She didn't say this directly to me as the message was for everyone but that is what I heard, LOL. And I realized that my problem was not that I was trying to assimilate, not that I was actively trying to be like them. I was just not being me. Public school education--as it exists and has existed in the time and places that I have been in it--just isn't me...And neither was waiting in long lines, giving my personal information to vendors, Mariah the Scientist's vocals, hot ass NOLA crawfish mac n cheese, and unmatched heat at 7 am and still at midnight. But I was able to do things that were very me: patronizing Mahogany Books, faking acting like a groupie for Lloyd, and getting in line multiple times for the same product for free. Balance is me.

I would like to thank my family, mentors, Bozoma, the Essence Festival and Black people ("non-collaborators") for lifting my spirits and touching my soul.