Venice’s black community gathered in Oakwood Park last week for an event that had all the hallmarks of a typical Juneteenth celebration; soul music, cool clothing, fried chicken, cornbread and bounce houses for the kids.
But they have been referring to Juneteenth as a day of remembrance in recent years since President Biden declared Juneteenth a national holiday in 2021. Celebrate Neighborhood Day, Community Day and Memorial Day on the third Saturday in June.
The holiday, which some residents say marks the first time black people settled in the Venice Oakwood area, was first celebrated more than 100 years ago. Regardless of the name, it is a time for communities to remember loved ones lost too soon and to renew cherished relationships.
“These types of parties have been happening in this park since I was a little girl in the 1960s,” said Venetian, professor and historian Naomi Nightingale.
The word that comes to mind is home. Everyone knows each other well enough to ask each other for the names of their cousins, mothers, and siblings. No one seemed to be able to finish their sentence without being interrupted by new relatives to say hello.
But most of the people I spoke to no longer live in the area and could only point to the house where they grew up. . Hood Day was never about protest, but over the past few years, as gentrification pushes more Oakwood residents out of the neighborhood, the political dimensions of the celebration have become increasingly difficult to ignore.
“We will not stop working to protect the sacrifices our grandparents made in this community,” Nightingale said. She said she gets at least one call a day from a real estate agent trying to buy her house.
Nightingale said there was “protest and resistance” to keep communities alive. She said bringing Oakwood back to life each year is their way of honoring the sacrifices their ancestors made while living in Venice.
Gwen Moseley, 60, remembers the neighborhood as a public space where children who crossed the line could be punished by any mother in the area, and she said everyone worked together to raise their children.
“They say it takes a village, and we certainly are a village,” said Mosley, who now lives in the downtown area.
Like most people I talked to, she pointed out the home where she had lived. It sits on a street where a house is currently listed on Redfin for $5.3 million. Her father owned the family home in Venice, but when he died, her brother inherited the property and decided to sell rather than manage it.
She was a little sad about it, but at least they had Hood Day, she said. Here she can watch the baby she once bounced on her lap grow into a tall college graduate, maintain old friendships, and become part of the old neighborhood.
“We look forward to this day here. We call it Juneteenth now, but we’ve been doing this since before Juneteenth. Besides funerals, this is the only time we all see each other,” Mosley said.
Geraldine Holloway, 67, said all of her best memories and loved ones were in Oakwood. She recalled the excitement among neighborhood kids when the McDonald’s first opened on Lincoln Avenue. The memory of her mother throwing away the Big Mac that she and her siblings pooled their money to buy still makes her laugh.
She said the community really started to change about seven years ago. Her family always rented in Venice, and she spent several years in Palmdale and other places in Los Angeles, but never anywhere like Oakwood. She moved back into the neighborhood to be closer to her grandchildren.
“I never leave. I mean, I leave, but I always come back,” Holloway said.
“Whenever someone dies, the kids sell the property. But my family is still here. There are a lot of families in this park now,” Holloway said, pointing to them one by one.
Clinton Noble is a case manager with the Helper Foundation, a youth anti-violence nonprofit that helped create the festival. He said the event was held to honor late friends and family. In the past, churches, community groups and private individuals have funded the event. Attendees will hang portraits of their lost loved ones on the park’s chain-link fence.
“We were born with the idea of remembrance. Whether you’ve lost someone or are dealing with some kind of tragedy, we all have one common goal and that is to stand up and celebrate,” Noble said.
But describing this holiday as a somber time would be inaccurate. No matter what tragedies and regrets those involved may face, Hood Day is a grand celebration.
After the speeches, attendees, including Nightingale, poured onto the dance floor and danced in unison with steps they all knew by heart. Three cars full of hip-hop dancers dressed as clowns showed up and began krumping, a dance born in South Los Angeles. People pass around appropriately sized plates with their favorite foods.
This day is a powerful testament to the idea that home is more than just property, especially if you come from a group that has historically been denied home ownership due to racist real estate practices such as redlining and racially restrictive covenants.
Sometimes, home is just a feeling you carry with you, or the familiar smell of a cooked meal.
Sometimes it’s that once-a-year get-together, a holiday hidden within a holiday, a time to share secret intimacy with people you grew up with, even if it’s just for a few hours.