For one weekend every year, Commodore Barry Park in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, transforms itself from a normal municipal park into a sanctuary for openness and expression as host to the Afropunk festival. For too many years, the very occasion of Black people in America occupying ordinary spaces has been viewed as a threat, a reality captured by cellphones and disseminated on social media in the era of Black Lives Matter as African Americans are confronted by law enforcement after a white person puts a call in to the police. Since Afropunk’s debut in 2005, Commodore Barry Park has provided a space for people of color to be who they choose and find enjoyment in a variety of attractions. For this year’s festival, I was interested in asking attendees what it means for them to be in a space like Afropunk.