Freaknik was the dawning of a new era, the Black Spring Break. But rather than a raucous beach and bathing suit event in Ft. Lauderdale, this annual right of passage took place in Atlanta which was fast emerging as the Black Mecca.
What began in the third weekend of April in 1983 as a relatively intimate picnic organized by AUC students evolved into a cultural conclave of coeds of color. Then the term or the concept of DEI wasn’t a real thing. Freaknik wasn’t even a matter of countering Spring break for whites, it was a Black icebreaker of monumental proportions and significance.
Atlanta was the ideal location for this lovefest, home to legendary HBCUs, celebrated civil rights advocates and a social scene that rivaled any – and then the party became the perfect storm for fun gone awry.
The power brokers in the city, politicians, business owners and civic leaders for the most part were on board. Players from the Maynard Jackson administration and the tourism and travel industry prepared for the increase in parties and the influx of partiers to make it an especially attractive and supportive destination for promising Black professionals and budding businesses.
And it worked. Freaknik had officially become a game-changer. The spirited and the aspiring flocked to the city, and they came back in droves year after year, although the tide was turning rapidly.
In the beginning it was relatively wholesome, well at least not as raucous as it would become. Probably 5 years into it I was in at my favorite happy hour spot on Spring Street, when the song “Get Off” came on. And when we leaped out of our chairs right in the dining room to do that dance, the manager cut the music and stopped what she must have thought was going to devolve into Sodom and Gomorrah kind of scene.
That was the beginning of the end of the absolute exuberance of that great experiment/event. The soul had gone out of the venue that hosted Bob Marley and Peter Tosh, Gil Scott Heron and Bootsy Collins and exposed millions to the music and the musings
What was even better is at that time we had much better access to those celebrities, matbe because being a celebrity was not their objective, they produced music and Atlanta’s climate of social advancement, HBCUs and great weather were all the elements required for a perfect storm. But the capital of the south, before it officially became the capital of the south – was poised and ready for the national stage. And while there was nothing staged or inauthentic about the Freaknik experience it was raw, true and fun … until it wasn’t.
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