“Freedom is a road seldom traveled by the multitudes...[w]e would like to invite each of you to come and go with us, and perhaps, you will see a side of life that you’ve never seen before.”

In 1972, Stax Records sponsored Wattstax, a one-day music festival in Los Angeles marking the seven year anniversary of the 1965 Watts riots (a key moment in the evolution of racism as a divisive issue in America). Prior to performing “Son of Shaft” at the event, Larry Dodson, lead singer of the Bar-Kays, paraphrased 19th century abolitionist Frederick Douglass’ quote. As the above quote illustrates, American festival culture has foreshadowed a post-racial (in which racial prejudice and discrimination no longer exist) environment before. Nearly 35 years later, it’s happening once again.

This last year has seen an alarming barrage of racially-charged violence in America, exposing society deeply-entrenched wounds and barriers alike. But, while the country continues to navigate centuries-old racial disharmony, a perfect storm of a different sort has been quietly gathering. As the 21st-century music industry’s financial pillar of record sales have ceded to more lucrative festival appearances as America's music festival renaissance has blossomed in a cultural force of juggernaut proportions. Consequently, the rise of festivals has birthed an unintended yet powerful result: Festivals are where antiquated belief systems are dissolving to give way to possible post-racial solutions for America as a whole.

As we delve into the role of race within festival culture, we thought it best to reveal that both an African-American and Caucasian author collaborated as one voice on this piece. Marcus Dowling is a 37-year-old black festival-goer from Washington, DC who has never attended a camping festival. Matthew Cremer is a 36-year-old Caucasian festival culture devotee from Tulsa, Oklahoma who regularly attends camping festivals. We selected three festivals to examine the dynamic between black and white festival-goers specifically: Transformational festival forefather Burning Man , Arkansas-based Wakarusa Music Festival and Trillectro out of Washington, DC. The deeper we looked at how these three fests deal with the issue of diversity, the more we saw festival culture on the whole as color blind.

Wakarusa, a four-day event now in its 12th year, saw its lineup offerings expand from its traditional jam-band and electronica base into hip-hop culture in 2015 with the additions of Chance The Rapper, The Roots, Dilated Peoples, and others. While addressing a glaring shortage in black attendance is not directly informing bottom-line decisions, an “everyone is welcome” spirit is still the kind of unspoken, yet indispensable value permeating Wakarusa’s business culture.

When Fest300 spoke to festival director Brett Mosiman, he admitted that race was not a factor that was internally discussed. "I don't personally, in my life, come across many people that see only color. I know it exists. I know it existed. But it's just not my reality. Are there law enforcement people like that? Yes. Are there whites like that? Yes. Are there blacks like that? Yes...The vast majority of humans are that [way]...But at the music festivals...there aren't colors. They aren't races and religions. There is just absolute inclusion.”

Quinn Coleman is one-third of the organizing team behind Trillectro Festival, a four-year old, one-day event in Washington, DC. When asked point blank if he’d prefer a festival where there was a balance of races equally represented or to see a sold-out event, he said, “We’d obviously want the sell out. [Then again] we want people at Trillectro who rock with our vision, no matter what race they are.” Given that Trillectro founders Coleman, Modele Oyewole and Marcel Marshall are African-Americans, it’s certainly an intriguing answer that shows a next-level awareness of racial unity above all else as being ultra-important.

Reflecting that relatively nonchalant view on diverse festival attendance, organizers rarely – if ever – track the racial demographics of their attendees. For instance, Bonnaroo conducts a census, but race is still not a tracked demographic. In researching this article, we found only two festivals with racial demographic info: Burning Man (more on that later), and up-and-comer Backwoods Camping & Music Festival out of Oklahoma. Now in its ninth year, the revamped gathering is akin to the “Where Music Meets Mother Nature” experience that Wakarusa sells. Although Backwoods’ racial breakdown unintentionally came by way of a default computation its ticketing outlet generates, the numbers still glean much-needed insight. Even with an expected daily turnout around 10,000 against Wakarusa’s 18,000 or Bonnaroo’s 80,000 people over four days this year, Backwoods can’t exactly be applied in an apples-to-apples conversation. However, its 74% Caucasian attendance does resemble that of a much larger scale event, such as Burning Man's 87% in 2014.

Whether or not booking acts like Chance The Rapper or Dilated Peoples is increasing diversity amongst festival fanbases, outside of Burning Man’s very telling Black Rock Census , few events actually track “race” as a statistic for their attendees. In the case of Wakarusa, even if a slight upturn in racial diversity occurred within the 2015 draw compared to previous years, a definitive answer is unavailable. In fact, whether through key marketing indicators or ticket purchaser databases, the festival does not include race as a demographic.

Beyond similar outlooks on festival diversity, both Wakarusa and Trillectro shared a headliner in Chance The Rapper, a 22-year-old performer from Chicago with a charismatic “man of the people” message.

“[Chance] comes along at a perfect time when people of all races are becoming more comfortable with rap as a genre and supporting rap acts,” said Trillectro's Marshall. Because rap and hip-hop have been known to glorify themes of violence, misogyny and homophobia, you'd think adding acts spouting such negative imagery would possibly bring a divisive energy to an otherwise vibrant, communal festival setting. However, echoing Marshall’s sentiment, Wakarusa’s Mosiman states his rationale. “We very carefully select all of our acts, certainly not just the hip-hop acts, but all of them, to be positive messages...They aren't talking about ‘cappin' cops’ or ‘ho's and bitches’...within hip-hop, it has to be a very positive message, which we felt Chance and The Roots were. Those were fabulous bookings for us.”

As the festival has evolved into a well-rounded smorgasbord of musical tastes (as is seen increasingly at festivals throughout America), 2015 found hip-hop topping the bills of dozens of the most major American music festivals. Although Wakarusa’s impetus (appealing to its “bread-and-butter” college demographic and subsequently black festival-goers) and Trillectro’s motivation to add him (drawing on DC’s urban black demographic) contrasted heavily, Chance’s presence illustrates the way in which hip-hop can serve as a unifying bridge within the festival scene.

To that point, Rakaa, of Wakarusa-booked hip-hop act Dilated Peoples says, “Something like [Wakarusa] was never supposed to be a hip-hop festival. I'm sure 12 years ago, there wasn't a rush to get rappers in here. But as the people talk and as promoters and the talent buyers here start to look at who’s going to bring in people...and really extend the life of it, hip-hop finds a way in.”

Looking deeper into festival culture, Trillectro’s Marshall states,“There’s a significant learning curve regarding race, festivals, and festival attendees. A lot of black people are still used to seeing their favorite acts in concert-style environments. Frankly, I don't know a lot of black people that like to go camping. Most black kids still want to go to the club. It’s up to us, and others running festivals, to show them something different.”

When considering black people and festivals though, Burning Man matters. Though the event can only speak to 1% of its 2014 population of 66,000 being African-American, it’s gaining a higher level of awareness in the black community largely thanks to blogger Caveat Magister's 2012 Burningman.org blog post entitled “Is Burning Man A ‘White People Thing?” His piece interviewed black Burning Man attendees about their culture's conservative views towards the Black Rock City event.

“White people in America have a working assumption that they can go anywhere and be reasonably safe," wrote Magister. "Historically, that has not been a realistic assumption for minorities. For too many of them, for too many generations, it has been essential that they avoid dangerous environments and heed warning signs. ‘White people expect that they’re going to be okay.'" Continuing, Magister wrote, “Black people think that they need to be prepared for something extremely bad to happen...The idea of going out to the middle of the desert and surrounding yourself with naked people playing with fire has plenty of red flags.”

Black people’s tentativeness toward attending festivals may make the idea of considering festivals a post-racial space a hasty notion. However, the idea still holds water if you look at the sustainability of a festival like Wakarusa insofar as attracting black attendees while staying true to their core values. Brett Mosiman explains the lack of a role that race plays in impacting bookings. “It would be kind of a fool's chase from the standpoint of, I can look at the line-up year over year…and say ‘Dang it, we don't have enough women.’ And if you chase some of those things, whether there's no Native American music or whatever, that kind of bends your perspective of being color blind. We're just trying to put together the very best festival possible for the money. The very best experience. To limit our inclusiveness would be counter-intuitive.”

In studying festival culture at present, it appears race is an issue of which many are aware, but that people ultimately attend festivals to escape society for many reasons. For instance, the issue of escapism is covered in Caveat Magister’s blog post as he digs deeper into a historical construct regarding why race versus escapism is a potential rift within festival culture to this day: “To me, Burning Man is a flower-power thing,” the blog’s author was told by a minority non-Burner. “That comes from white history. In the 60’s blacks did civil rights, whites did flower-power. So Burning Man seems like freedom to you, but nothing about Burning Man seems like freedom to us.”

Another minority non-Burner stated, “Minority rebellion in the 60’s saw itself as engaged in a project of claiming and reclaiming recognition as persons and as a people...White rebellion didn’t need to do that: Whites already had that recognition. They were concerned with expressing their individuality. It’s completely different.”

As we stare into a future where post-racialism can develop beyond mere concept and into actuality, the inroads to such a reality may appear to be hopelessly tangled inside a labyrinth of historically exclusionary racial strife. However, even as flash points from Ferguson to Baltimore boil over while #BlackLivesMatter organizers interrupt presidential campaigns, the festival circuit is taking the lead in addressing post-racial solutions.

In speaking to Jonathan Williams of Houston, Texas, an African-American attending his very first Wakarusa, this feeling of inclusivity resonated bright on just the second day of the festival. “You can literally look however you want. Be whoever you want. For the most part, do whatever you want. And everybody just congratulates you on it. I feel no hate out here whatsoever. Whatsoever.” In seeing black attendance on the rise at festivals, perhaps, we’ll see all sides of life embraced and shared by the multitudes. It's unity in dire need of arrival.