I still remember my first time performing in the Black History Month fashion show. It had been a very chaotic day of juggling essays, assignments, and social obligations. By the time I got to rehearsal I was bubbling with excitement. I slipped into my dress for the first time and gazed at myself in the mirror, admiring the way the blue ball gown sparkled under the light. When I emerged on the stage the crowd erupted in applause, whoops, and hollers. My friends waved me down from the crowd, screaming my name as I strutted down the runway. I beamed. I had never felt so beautiful. As this Black History Month comes to a close, I find myself missing the experience. Its absence has left a mark on me, prompting me to ponder why it was so important and why it should come back. 

For those who are unaware, the Black History Month fashion show had been a staple of Oberlin’s Black History Month programming for many years. The event was a massive undertaking, requiring some students to stay during Winter Term to help coordinate the event and create the looks. The lead up to the event was filled with fittings, placements, alterations, and assignments, where the models get their first look at their outfits. Rehearsals would take up the weekend, with every participant working for hours each day perfecting their walks and ensuring the show stays within the time allotted. The process is extensive, but the efforts pay off on the big day when students from across campus cheer and scream at this display of Black joy.

In predominantly white institutions, like Oberlin, it can be hard at times to engage in pure, unbridled Black joy. Black joy is just that, joy exhibited by Black people that is seen as radical due to the history of Black oppression which results in external barriers to happiness. In many of the conversations we have about Blackness and oppression we fail to look at the joy, and the fashion show is a fun way to invite the campus community to engage with that. 

The fashion show also provides Black students with an opportunity to show off their talents. Many of the outfits showcased on the stage are sewn by students, but that’s not where the talent ends. The decorations are created by the students, with models and coordinators alike collaborating to craft the elaborate sets showcased every year. The show includes breaks where Black musicians showcase their craft and dazzle the audience with their performances. Finally, much of the lighting and construction is done by students, making the production a high effort talent showcase.

With the widespread reach of the show, Black people from all across campus are invited to participate. For me personally, this event introduced me to much of the Black community in my first year, and I know I’m far from the only one with that experience. There are so many Black people who are scattered across so many parts of campus that are invited to come together for this one event, even last year I met people I had never seen before. This show provides us spaces to bond with one another and a safe space for our community.

In my opinion, the most important aspect of the show was its devotion to giving back to the community. Each year the committee would choose a charity to partner with, selling the clothing showcased and donating the proceeds. My first year the charity chosen targeted sickle cell research, a condition that predominantly impacts Black people, including members of my own family. It was so wonderful to contribute to something that I knew would help preserve the lives of those I love. The event’s wide reach combined with the Oberlin thrift culture generated much needed donations to help Black people around the world.

Ultimately, the show’s absence is more than just the lack of a big display; it is the disappearance of a major opportunity for Obies to make a difference in our community. Although I understand that the show takes so much effort to put together, I believe that its preservation is vital in preserving Black Obie culture.