Oakland, California: A Beautiful, Black Time in the Bay

I finally made it to California! My first trip to the West Coast landed me in the heart and soul of the Bay. Oakland. It was everything I needed. Raw, radical, rooted.

I came for the Annual Convention of the National Coalition of Blacks for Reparations in America (N’COBRA), and while I absolutely came to organize, Oakland pulled me into something deeper. This wasn’t just a trip, it was a full bodied experience. A very beautiful, unapologetically Black time in a city that has never whispered its history. It blasts it from car speakers and mural walls, wrapped in smoke and bass.

This land was Ohlone land long before it was Oakland. The Ohlone people, also called Costanoans, lived here in balance for thousands of years, their story stretching back to at least 2000 B.C.E. Then came the Colonizers, with their flags, their crosses and missions, their sickness, their systems of erasure. By the mid 1800’s, more than two-thirds of the Indigenous population was decimated. The spirit of this land lingers. Stolen, broken and still standing.

This Town has been a testing ground, and testament of racism and resistance alike. Where the 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act made its debut. Where the KKK could openly run the streets, and Klan members would openly run for and sit in the positions of Sheriff and City Commissioner. Where freeways like I-880 were laid down like scalpels, slicing through Black and Brown communities with surgical intent. Relining. Police violence. You name it, Oakland’s lived it.

And yet, this town refuses to die quietly. Oakland is a place that doesn’t just survive. It fight backs. It remembers. It teaches.

It was the heartbeat of the 1946 General Strike. The birthplace of the Black Panther Party (for Self Defense). Oakland has been ground zero for rebellions, riots, occupations, and uprisings. From the Port Chicago Mutiny to the killing of Oscar Grant, from Occupy Oakland to George Floyd protests that turned into hyphy parties on Broadway.

You’ve likely seen the iconic photo of a young Black woman on horseback riding in solidarity, fist in the air, her sign reading “Black Lives Matter”, her horse named Dapper Dan. That’s Oakland!

Protest is muscle memory in this Town.

While renowned scholar’s spoke truth to power on reparations at the Black Panther Party Museum… the sounds of a nearby sideshow start spinning to life. Bass vibrating the windows, burning rubber scoring the moment like it was scripted. A whole rebellion soundtrack. Courtesy of the streets. Backup vocals to our own call to action. That’s Oakland!

Oakland holds history like an open wound and a raised fist.

A final night out in the Town with my fellow activist and organizers, enjoying drinks and conversations that ran deep and spilled over, late night food, and good trouble. That night we ended up at The Ruby Room, an Oakland classic. One of those places where time folds in on itself. Young folks, and elders from the Convention somehow landed in the same dimly lit bar, everyone dancing under low red lights like it was always meant to be. The kind of joy that comes from doing the work and still having something left for yourself.

And when the last call came, and the music finally cut, the room didn’t move. Someone started a chant of “Reparations now!” And the whole bar joined in like a final prayer.

(I heard The Ruby Room closed that December. That night? It felt like a send-off)

And if your visiting, do yourself a favor. Don’t even lock the car. Just leave the windows down, and carry any valuables where they’re most protected, close to your heart. IYKYK.

This photo journal is dedicated to Oakland. For its beauty, its boldness, its refusal to be quiet. To the past that shaped it, the people who defend it, and the future it’s still fighting for. 🖤

“Oakland doesn’t try to charm you. It tells the truth. And if you’re open, it gives you something to carry back.”

Alanna Lamar

Touch Down In The Bay

As Seen In Oakland

🎧 A Soundtrack for Oakland

Music is memory. Music is movement. Music is medicine. So I built this playlist the same way Oakland builds itself, layered, defiant, joy-forward, with a lot of soul. It’s a time capsule. A love letter. A thank you.

Let’s Ride!

✈︎ Next Stop: Colorado

From West Coast resistance to the Rocky Mountains. I’m headed where the air thins and the roots run deep in a different way. Stay close.

♥️ Alanna