Atlanta was unusually full of awareness during a recent Spring weekend. A group of Jewish teens had gathered in the suburbs from all regions of the country. The purpose of this convention was to emphasize awareness concerning religion, culture, and other popular, current issues. Black college students had migrated into the city by the thousands to celebrate their unity, to revel in it, and to find the boundaries to which they could take a non-stop, weekend-long party. The city of Atlanta was aware that this traditionally rowdy version of spring break, dubbed Freaknik, was coming to town, and had asked the participants not to. However, in turn, the students were also aware of their constitutional rights, and came anyway. The American theme has been awareness for some time now, and that theme would underscore the entire weekend.

I was part of the Jewish contingent, mainly there with some of my friends for the basketball tournament which was part of the convention. None of us had heard of Freaknik before, but we were soon told its story. We learned that some of the locations for our event had been changed, so that we wouldn't have to travel through the potentially dangerous, grid-locked city. This other, unofficial but seemingly organized gathering had forced us to change our plans. Although that was the only tangible effect it had on us, Freaknik would continue to creep into our thoughts.

My friends and I sat in our bus outside the MARTA (Atlanta Public Transportation) station before the convention began, waiting for other groups to arrive from other states. Then we would all drive out to the houses we were staying in. As I watched the people walking by, I was well aware of the varying cultures that surrounded me. Most of those that had come for Freaknik were easily recognizable. We inferred that few, probably zero, non-blacks partook in this event, but, similarly, it was obvious that not every black person in Atlanta was going. Everyone must be wary of stereotyping, and with this in mind, I still hazarded guesses as to which people stepping off the MARTA were rushing into the city for Freaknik, and which were on their way to work. If the girls had on bikini tops and shorts that dripped youthful flesh, they were probably ready to party. If the men had wild dreadlocks and ragged or flashy clothing, they too were likely headed for the city. Anyone over fifty probably wasn't headed that way, and usually didn't fit the clothing requirements either. If a group of white teens, decked out in preppy outfits, skater rags, or jeans and t-shirts walked off the train, they weren't there for Freaknik. They were with us.

Of course it was more than clothing and color. There was an attitude of confidence and enthusiasm in certain groups of people who paraded through the parking lots. The freakniks, as we called them, had come to spend time and have fun with people they felt comfortable with, and had something in common with. I inevitably noticed that these were the same reasons that I had decided to spend my weekend a couple hundred miles south of home.

Nobody can say for sure how many Jews had caravanned into the city for Freaknik, but I doubt that anybody's guess could be too low. On the other hand, of the two-hundred-and-some teens gathered at our convention in a suburban high-school, there was not one black kid. This was not surprising, and I'm not sure how many others besides myself consciously noticed. What was surprising, and curiously unsettling, was that although we were having our good times separate from those in the city, we didn't forget them.

In our imagination, Freaknik became a symbol of hedonism. The kids from Atlanta supposedly knew what went on there, and described it as a weekend with a control deficiency. As far as I could figure out, these black college students, or whoever else invited themselves, got drunk early on and cruised up and down the main downtown streets, with no end in sight. Its purpose was defined by itself. Like the carnival ride that sweeps you in vertical circles at ludicrous speeds, it's fun even though you haven't moved a net inch when you get out.

None of us ever got a firsthand look at Freaknik, so these images were the ones we went home with. Every now and then, there would be a rumor or report of news from the city. A big traffic jam, a broken store-front window, a body count. All attributed to the freaknik mob in attendance there. The first night I heard three were dead, but by Sunday it was down to one. The lightness with which my peers took the news of shootings was not strange because of the violent state the world is currently in. But it did ask the bleak and lasting question, how we have allowed the murder of those we do not know to become trivial news?

Though we took the this news lightly, we still considered Freaknik too violent to actually visit. Late each night we were left with free time, and we spent it driving around in packs or sitting in a Waffle House. If things became dull, someone would suggest that we go to Freaknik, and everyone would laugh. It was fun to think how a group of white, Jewish teenagers would fare among the ŇotherÓ crowd. The following summer, millions of people from around the globe would fill the streets during the Olympic Summer Games, and though even the Americans might feel lost then, all would feel welcome. But this weekend, downtown Atlanta was dominated, not by a nationality, but by a culture. Thousands and thousands of black college students ruled the city, and I don't think any at my convention would have felt safe there.

It's odd that we found so much to laugh and talk about regarding the other, specially united group this weekend. I'm sure that the freakniks were not talking about us, and didn't know that our convention was even in town. Of course the size of our respective groups and the publicity given to each logically explains this, but doesn't dismiss it. We were constantly aware of Freaknik.

On Friday night, we had our religious service, and then some students put on a performance for the rest of us. It was called Project Impact Theater, and was a series of skits that related the motives and events of the Holocaust to modern life and its discriminations. As a Jew, I am continually remembering the Holocaust, probably reminded of it and told about it more than non-Jews. The Jewish people have vowed to remember the Holocaust, and to be aware of the surrounding world so that there will not be another. I wondered if the students partying downtown had seen this performance, or were aware of its message. With the issues of racial discrimination and affirmative action in the news daily, it is certain that the minorities of America are aware of the existing, discriminatory ideas of some groups and individuals that work against them. But have they expanded that awareness to include the modern and historical aspects of discrimination against other peoples? Have I, and Jews like me, done the same to expand our awareness? Nobody has to answer that question, as long as everybody works to make sure the answer would be yes.

This weekend, like most, was about relaxing. Both assemblies of people in Atlanta that weekend were there to have fun. The Jews and the blacks came to have fun, but they didn't come together. That doesn't mean Jews and blacks aren't friendly, or don't sometimes hang out together, but that weekend was symbolic. I don't think my friends or I really knew about or understood the Friday night rituals of Freaknik, and I don't think those at Freaknik knew much about our Friday night rituals. Each group believed it was necessary to gather together to unify themselves, and each group was right. It was only for a weekend though, wasn't it?

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