5. NABJ convention
Oh, you didn’t know? The National Association of Black Journalists (NABJ) is more than just a group of people who write things that make White people call us bad names on the internet. No, this is a squad of Black folks who come together once a year every summer and get down, gathering among family and preparing our minds, bodies, and souls for the next year of journalistic chicanery. The weekend is full of parties, networking, and just straight-up getting our lives with people who look like us. And get this: This year, it was slated to take place in Chocolate City. Washington, D.C. Home to Howard University. Sure, the convention went down virtually, but without the IRL shenanigans, it just wasn’t the same.
4. Gettin’ these fits off
Want to hear the most superficially sad byproduct of Covid-19? Early this year, I copped a whole-ass wardrobe — all of which arrived amid shelter-in-place orders that swept the nation. If you’ve been following social distancing guidelines, you know that your ass should’ve been sitting at the damn house all summer. Wasn’t shit to do outside anyway, unless you were walking to the mailbox, running point-A-to-point-B errands, or leaving the crib wearing essential worker uniform. Which means your chances to get fresh were about as slim as those thigh-exposing shorts and Jonathan Majors-fitting shirts still hanging in your closet, tags intact. Pour one out for the lewks.
3. Music festival season
The Roots Picnic. Something in the Water. Broccoli City. Dreamville Festival. And so on. There’s nothing quite like music festival season, and it’s gone. We just haven’t been able to get our fix of live music — or portly performers inexplicably stage diving onto concertgoers’ puny wrists — and it sucks.
2. Carnival season
It’s absolutely unfair that Adele is the only person who gets to enjoy the season. Carnival season is one of the greatest times of the year. Aside from the IG posts of Black people looking their sexiest-ass selves, carnival is a time to connect with Black folks across the diaspora in a series of celebratory days of dance and frivolity. Having to forego the entire season is a culturally depressing moment as well as a financial disaster. On the bright side, just imagine how epic it’s going to be next year… or, uhh, 2022.
1. Essence Fest
The ’rona’s denial of this year’s Essence Fest — the festival of all festivals — is a direct affront to Blackness. As a matter of fact, our reparations should include 40 acres, a mule, and two Essence Fests whenever we can go outside and mingle freely once again.