Karizma Greene, ’25
TW: Mentions of r*pe and sexual violence
Image source: https://yonamariemusic.com/yona/blog/370/what-is-freaknik-the-sad-truth-behind-the-festival
Picture this. The year is 1983. Spring has sprung in Atlanta, Georgia and most college students are heading for the nearest beach. Suns out, buns out. Toes in the sand. That’s the vibe. However, not everyone had plans. At the Atlanta University Center, the DC Metro Club, a coalition of students from the DMV (Washington D.C., Maryland, and Virginia) area decided to host a wholesome picnic. There was good food, good people, and good music. “Super Freak” by Rick James was one of the songs people vibed to the most. Rico Brown, one of the club’s organizers had combined the words freak and picnic to coin the term Freaknik. Rick James, Rico Brown, and his peers forever changed Black spring break as we know it.
Freaknik was a space for the Black youth of the South to express and explore their bodily autonomy. If you look back at pictures of your aunties and uncles at this time, you’ll most likely see them decked down in flashy jewelry, the gold tooth in particular. You might also see some of the most famous hairstyles of the 90’s such as the Missy Elliot finger waves, the Halle Berry pixie cut, and the T-Boz mushroom. The men could be seen rocking the Fresh Prince high top, a ramp fade, or waves amongst many other styles. People, men in particular, also took the time to flaunt their cars or “whips.”
Speaking of cars, “I remember me and three of my homeboys with me driving down I-85 approaching the baseball stadium, and some girls from North Carolina were honking their horn trying to get us to pull over. We pulled over at a gas station, exchanged numbers, and ended up hooking up that night! It was a wild time,” says Chris Williams, a Tuskegee University alum, in an interview with Atlanta Magazine. Aside from the fashion and flashing, Black southern youth also practiced their agency when it came to sexuality. They engaged in a dance called “The Freak” that involved two bodies, usually female and male, grinding against each other. This opened the streets of Atlanta up to so much more.
Historically, outward expressions of Black sexuality were stifled. It was to be made private, and in most cases unaddressed, in order to keep up with respectability politics of white America. But Freaknik made it public and this is a good thing. Conversation surrounding this aspect of Black living makes room for more productive self discovery, a fundamental stage in everyone’s life. But it also had its faults. “Walking down the streets in a thong? You’re taking it a little bit too far! You’re walking around in public, having sex against a tree? Okay! People were being exhibitionists,” Adina Howard, famous singer-songwriter, said in an interview with Complex News. Though Black sexuality was something to be embraced and loved, it was ultimately on display to be wrongfully judged, bound, and mistreated, particularly for Black women.
“When individuals say they want to come to Freaknik, they come with a mentality that it is an open season on women,” said George Hawthorne, who led the welcoming committee for Freaknik, “Their main intent is to come for some lewd and sexual experience.” What started as a space for collective Black fun, quickly turned into a vile scene for Black women. They were being assaulted and abused at rapid rates with little to no protection. One year, Hawthorne recorded “four r*pes, six sexual assaults, and four shootings.”
In writing about Freaknik, I wanted to capture both sides of its realness to the best of my ability. This event was made for Black students, by Black students. Another example of the undeniable comradery that we practice daily. On the flip side, the event put our lives in danger. This prompts me to think of us today. There is always an innate fear that something will pop off, or that one of our girls – or anyone for that matter – will have their body violated. I want us to think about our spaces differently. I encourage us to curate and approach them with care. Because we all just want to have fun and be freaks…to an extent.
