Madison Mitchell (’27), Staff Writer & Social Media Coordinator
As Black students at a predominantly white institution (PWI), many of us questioned whether attending the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (UNC), would mean missing out on the unique cultural experience offered by historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs). HBCUs offer you a once-in-a-lifetime experience to be surrounded by your own people in a space made for you and by you. But let’s not forget an important aspect – the parties. In no way am I trying to be stereotypical, but parties at an HBCU are completely different than those at a PWI. The most important difference is that the majority, if not all, of the parties, are thrown by fellow Black peers. We don’t have that luxury here. While the White Frat boys throw a rager every weekend, we are lucky to get one once a month. While thinking about this, I was curious to learn more about the history of Black people throwing parties and I was surprised to find such a rich history of partying embedded in our culture. In this article, I will briefly discuss the history of Black parties from enslaved people on plantations to now.
An Air of Freedom: Enslaved Parties
Since the enslavement of Africans, our people have always sought ways to defy the restrictions of the white man and be triumphant, whether it be through explicit or implicit acts of rebellion. As a means of escape, enslaved Africans would gather and go to secluded spaces to express themselves through music and dance. They maintained their African traditions and created new ones while taking ownership of their bodies through movement. To these “parties,” they wore their best clothes and fully embodied who they were, escaping who they were forced to be (NMAAHC, n.d. ). The gatherings would soon evolve, eventually birthing a small form of the juke joint. Enslaved Africans would gather in small sheds on Saturday nights, eat together, socialize, and drink (Caldwell, n.d.).
Evolution of the Juke Joint
Following emancipation, sharecroppers would continue this tradition by gathering at liquor houses or cabins deep in the woods where they could enjoy good music and food outside away from the realities of the world (Wilson, 2024). These social events would soon transform into the juke joint which was often held in shacks or barns. In these spaces, Black people got together at late hours of the night, played blues music, indulged in cheap liquor and good food, and socialized away from the watchful eye of the White man. The risks of gathering in exclusionary White spaces were in no way worth the reward; therefore, Black people had to create a space of their own.
Throwing Parties to Pay Rent
Once again Black Americans were met with prejudice, this time, it was in their own homes. Zooming in on the experience of Black Americans in Harlem in the 1920s and 30s, there was immense housing discrimination. An influx of Black Southerners were fleeing to the North to rewrite their stories. According to an article written by Debra Kamin, “By 1920, 75,000 Black people had made Harlem their permanent stop,” (Kamin, 2024). This surge in Black people caused White flight and in efforts to scare Black tenants away, landlords unfairly raised the price of rent for Black people. This birthed rent parties, parties Black tenants threw to raise money to pay their rent. These parties had music, food, drinks, and a place to escape. It was at these parties that the room exuded Black culture and as the article says, “They were a gasp of freedom in a country that doubled as a chokehold” (Kamin, 2024).
Freaknik and Respectability Politics
Jumping to a more recent period of partying, most of us are aware of Freaknik. When we think of it, we probably imagine Black college students out of control and taking over Atlanta to the point that streets were shut down. What if we reframe this and look at it through a lens of social protest that challenged the idea that Atlanta was “racially progressive” (Stockus, 2012)? What if we reframe it and look at it through a lens of attacking respectability politics that only examined the behavior of Black Americans and never their counterparts? Freaknik was truly a celebration of Black culture and another way of defying the demands of the White man. Although there may have been no whip, explicitly White-only clubs, or housing discrimination, there still existed a racist ideology that undermined the Black American. Freaknik was a way to confront the watchful eye of the White man through a modernized tradition of African American rebellion.
Modern Parties: Still A Form of Resistance
Thinking about our current party culture, we may not immediately see it as a form of rebellion, but when you think about it, it is. How many after-hours spaces do you know that are truly inclusive of African Americans? Let’s put this into perspective of UNC-Chapel Hill. On campus, we have Stilllife and a ton of white fraternities and sororities, yet, we never feel welcomed or wanted in those spaces. Those spaces still look at us as “other” and do not make an effort to include our culture whether it be through music or dance. The single time they did was for Waka Flocka Flame and Travis Scott, but sometimes money and fame can erase skin color. Despite this, we rebel by creating our own spaces, as our ancestors once did; we throw house parties, rent venues, and as each era did, celebrate our Blackness.
Informative and enjoyable article. Thankful that our beloved Black Ink still exists and thrives but wish the current generation had “Great Hall parties” in the student union. Those three words defined our non-academic time at UNC Chapel Hill and I yearn for that opportunity for the current Tar Heels.