If Black businesses close, community ties will be lost

During halftime of Sunday’s football game between the New Orleans Saints and the Atlanta Falcons, I got restless and reminisced how, a year ago, I would have been sitting just a few blocks away from my apartment, watching the game at 2nd Half Sports Lounge with a collection of Black Oaklanders.

The sounds of the NFL games were almost background noise as hiphop and R& B music played through overhead speakers. In the dining room, raucous bursts of laughter happened between bites of barbecue. The lounge felt like a small house party, one where everyone acted like they knew each other, even if they didn’t.

There aren’t many spots like this for me in the Bay Area.

I know how the Bay Area can be an easy place to feel lost in, especially when you’re Black and you aren’t seeing many Black people, and you’re living here without a social circle to serve as a foundation of support. This is how it is for many Black transplants who move here for a job, and it was the case for me when I arrived in Oakland more than four years ago. Businesses like 2nd Half Sports Lounge were my shortcut to not feeling so isolated. They were welcoming spaces where I could connect with folks who look like my brothers, my mom or my cousins, and they in turn would connect me with their friends.

When restaurants were forced to only offer takeout and outdoor dining during the early days of the pandemic, this neighborhood sports bar continued to thrive, it seemed. There was always a contingent of Black folks outside of the place in the evenings, sometimes waiting on orders, but always talking and watching whatever game was visible through the dining room windows. As crazy as the world felt, the space outside of that lounge felt like a happy reprieve from reality.

So, count me among the many Bay Area residents who, because of the latest outdoor dining ban, have an increased concern that their favorite restaurants are going to close due to a lack of business. I think about how these gathering places where Black transplants find a sliver of comfort or home could be gone. I can’t help but wonder, if the few remaining Black neighborhood spots start closing, how will that affect Black culture in the Bay Area moving forward?

I’ll be honest, I was ready to leave the Bay Area after about six months of living here. The region felt less welcoming, less cultured than I expected. The population’s diversity was something everybody talked about, yet when I got here, the interactions I had in public settings with nonBlack people — be it at BART, in an Uber or at a coffee shop — kept me feeling like an outsider. This place, the community here, wasn’t what I thought it was going to be. I was ready to leave it behind.

The only things that kept me here were the local food spots where Black folks would hang out.

The joy exuded by a table of Black folks at a restaurant or bar, laughing over food and cocktails, is contagious. It’s not unusual for us to loop in other tables into our conversations, thus turning what could have been a quiet meal into a setting that feels like a family reunion. This same kind of vibe was present at Black restaurants during the pandemic while outdoor dining was allowed. White people were able to see this. And I think it helped connect the community in a different way. Instead of just driving by places known to be popular among Black folks according to sites like Yelp, and not being able to see the environment inside, outdoor dining provided them a chance to see a Black business’ regulars.

These moments were a nice change of pace in 2020. Not long after the pandemic hit, our country rushed into a racial awakening, at the core of which have been calls for improving the lives of Black people. We’ve had silent marches, rowdy protests and general progress overall during a movement that has felt very big. But at these restaurants, and the outdoor dining they offered, we appeared more as individuals, as neighbors, and less as a monolith demanding change.

The pandemic has stripped many things from our lives that we once loved, but in a unique way, it provided a clearer perspective on the Bay Area’s Black diaspora, however small it might be at this point.

Looking ahead, I wonder how many of these popular Black restaurants and bars are going to be left after the pandemic. If these slices of Black culture never come back, it’s hard to imagine Black folks like myself will want to keep living here.