What was once dubbed the “cookout of all cookouts” is now facing a wave of criticism from longtime attendees who say the Essence Festival of Culture no longer feels like home.
TikTok creator Deja (@deja.zhane) sparked a viral conversation over the weekend after posting a video questioning whether the iconic festival—founded in 1995 to celebrate Black American heritage—has lost its way. Her video, clocking more than 100,000 views, summarizes what many festivalgoers have been murmuring for years: Essence Fest no longer feels like it’s for us.
“Essence Fest used to be the family reunion created by Black people for Black people,” Deja says in her now-viral clip. “Soul food, gospel, trap, NOLA. It was a culture you felt deep in your chest. But now? Not so much.”
According to Deja and many commenters, the annual event—once a proud showcase of Black American music, fashion, beauty, and political power—has become corporatized, curated, and less connected to the community that birthed it.
Who Is the Festival For?
Critics say this shift stems in part from a leadership change at the top. Caroline A. Wanga, President and CEO of Essence Ventures, is a former DEI executive at Target and Kenyan-born. While her background adds important dimensions to the Black diaspora, some feel her focus on pan-African identity has come at the expense of Black American specificity.
In a resurfaced clip, Wanga is heard saying, “Culture means earth, motherland, Africa, originality… If you’re African, go back to Africa and connect to your source.”
Her comments have struck a nerve with some Black American attendees who believe their own heritage is being overlooked.
“She has not once acknowledged Black American culture,” Deja says. “That’s disheartening, because Essence Festival is specifically for Black Americans.”
Local Voices Left Out?
The concerns aren’t just ideological—they’re also practical. Longtime New Orleans locals and vendors have noticed a drop in participation by homegrown creators, chefs, and businesses. From iconic Creole food stalls to native influencers who once helped make Essence go viral, many now feel pushed out or ignored.
“It’s become a space that uplifts everyone else aside from Black American heritage,” Deja adds. “It’s starting to feel really intentional.”
Others echoed this on social media, citing the absence of New Orleans culture at the heart of the festival. Without local vendors and the authentic flavor of the city, they say Essence is turning into a corporate pop-up rather than a cultural cornerstone.
A Tipping Point?
Essence Festival has long been a cultural touchstone for generations of Black Americans—a celebration of joy, resistance, and shared history. Past lineups have included performances by Prince, Beyoncé, and Aretha Franklin, as well as powerful keynotes from activists and politicians. But now, some wonder if the event’s current direction is eroding its foundation.
“With our experience as Black Americans, we don’t get a lot of opportunities to just celebrate what our ancestors have done and what we are contributing to the future,” one user commented under Deja’s video. “Why are we always the ones expected to make space for everyone else?”
Should We Boycott?
One woman bluntly asked in the comments, “Should we boycott Essence Fest?” It’s a bold question, especially given the event’s storied legacy. But for some, the idea of holding leadership accountable and demanding a return to Black American-centered programming isn’t about cancellation—it’s about reclamation.
While Essence Ventures has yet to formally respond to the backlash, the conversation continues to unfold across TikTok, Twitter (X), and Instagram, where attendees are calling for more transparency, more inclusion of local voices, and above all, a recommitment to Black American culture.
As one commenter put it: “We’re not mad you’re inviting others. We’re mad you forgot who built the house.”
