AFRAM, one of the largest festivals on the East Coast that celebrates Black culture turned 50 this weekend, but on its last day, news highlighting the worst parts almost outweighs the good.

During the second day of the festival, I stood on a grassy hill overlooking the main stage and wrote on my Instagram story “AFRAM truly is a love letter to Black Baltimore.”

And I meant it, but less than 20 minutes later, a new narrative about the beloved festival unfolded.

As people waited for The Lox to perform, the foxtrot flew incredibly low and groups of what seemed to be young people snaked through the crowds near the main stage and started running to a corner of the over 700-acre Druid Hill Park.

Adults sitting near my family on the hillside started leaving. At one point, a Black woman with box braids, sunglasses and a floral dress turned to me and asked, “Are we going to be okay over here?”

My nod of reassurance came with a bit of uncertainty, but I was confident these incidents wouldn’t ruin the rest of the night.

To some, maybe it did.

Mayor Brandon Scott issued an age restriction for the remainder of AFRAM, instructing those who are under 18 years old to be accompanied by an adult.

Views were split on social media.

Some said this should be the protocol for all festivals in the city going forward. Others believe young people are once again being pushed out of a space they should be able to enjoy too.

I can’t villainize groups of Black teenagers. My son will be one someday, but I also don’t condone causing hysteria for fun, disturbing the peace and ruining a festival that’s a hallmark of Black culture in Baltimore.

This kind of behavior distracts people from the true purpose of AFRAM.

We spoke to people throughout the weekend who came for the culture and vibe. Families who for years have made AFRAM an annual affair. First-timers who couldn’t understand how they had gone so long without coming to the festival. How they often fed into the rumors that AFRAM wasn’t a safe or fun event to attend.

Last night’s events, sadly, embodied those rumors.

I was excited and comfortable enough to bring my family this year, including my 2-year-old son, even though a similar situation happened last year at AFRAM.

In 2025, right before Juvenile performed, I handed my son to my sister and turned my back for what I thought seemed like just a second.

Suddenly, a huge group of kids hysterically started running toward us and through the crowds in all directions.

I’m a millennial. I immediately thought there was an active shooter and tried not to panic.

My sister walked backward into a closet with my son and Baltimore City Recreation and Park staff quickly shut the door for her.

I caught a quick glimpse of my son’s face before my husband grabbed me so we could hide behind a porta potty. Even if we weren’t safe, at least our son was.

Why did we fear for our life at a festival that celebrates identity and culture? Our identity and culture.

It turned out to be nothing, a social media prank, so I heard.

Nonetheless, it didn’t deter me from celebrating this year. I don’t know what the remedy is to ensure that AFRAM remains a family friendly event that doesn’t invite chaos.

AFRAM can’t become a gathering where unsafety is anticipated. That’s not what celebrating Black culture is nor should it be miscategorized as such.

The festival brings top notch, nationally recognized and local talent to Baltimore stages for free. All people have to do is come and enjoy.

AFRAM truly is a love letter to Black Baltimore, but we can’t allow it to be rewritten so much so that it loses its meaning.