More Than Just a DEI Hire. Navigating White Spaces as a Black DJ

I’ve just unloaded my gear from my truck. As I lug it toward the venue, I hear the usual remarks—comments about my hair, my look, my presence.

I started DJing back in 1999. Back then, my audiences were diverse, mostly people of color, because many of the events I played were rooted in community: birthdays, block parties, and cultural celebrations.

I became more conscious of the spaces after my move to Fort McMurray, Alberta. I remember standing behind my decks at one of my first gigs there, looking out into a sea of unfamiliar, mostly White faces. There’s a feeling that comes when you’re Black in predominantly White spaces—you don’t just walk in, you become a living point of interest. Every movement, every track selection feels magnified.

It’s like that feeling in high school when all eyes are locked onto you. The weight of anticipation—or judgment—is real. Even when I’d spot another person of color in the crowd, I’d hesitate to approach them, not wanting to “implicate” them in my outsider status.

But I don’t resent standing out. I enjoy it. I embrace the stares, the whispers about favorite Black celebrities, the awkward compliments. It puts me in a mindset that says, “Include me among the greats.”

Larry Levan in the DJ booth at Paradise Garage in 1979. This pioneering Black DJ transformed club culture in many predominantly White spaces.

This complicated dance between acceptance and alienation isn’t unique to me. Black artists have long navigated these spaces. DJs like Larry Levan, who transformed New York’s Paradise Garage in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, created spaces where diverse crowds learned to trust the Black DJ behind the booth. Frankie Knuckles, the “Godfather of House Music,” also built bridges between Black queer culture and wider audiences—spaces that are now celebrated but were once sites of tension.

Frankie Knuckles, often referred to as the ‘Godfather of House Music,’ performing during the 20th anniversary of Def Mix Productions. Knuckles broke barriers and built bridges across diverse audiences, leaving an indelible mark on global dance music culture.

Still, the negativity can be exhausting. I’ve had nights where people groaned as I carried in my gear. Others cheered at the idea of a DJ taking the stage. The duality is constant.

The Navigator of the Seas. Performing here challenged me to adapt and thrive, delivering high-energy sets that resonated with a global crowd.

The first time I encountered the complexity of these spaces was when I took a job on the Navigator of the Seas, one of the world’s largest cruise ships. Over a six-month tour, I played for Floridians, Puerto Ricans, Black travelers from across the U.S., Irish tourists, Californians, and Mexican guests. Every week brought a new demographic—and a new challenge to connect across cultural lines.

QuestLove, legendary drummer, producer, and DJ, known for his encyclopedic knowledge of music and passion for genre-blending. His career exemplifies how Black artists have navigated and reshaped predominantly White spaces through authenticity and mastery.

It forced me to break my own musical biases. Like the legendary QuestLove, who once said, “If you only listen to one genre, you’re missing half the story,” I began weaving 80s rock, Caribbean soca, country, and hip-hop into seamless narratives. I learned that comfort music—whether it’s Bon Jovi or Bob Marley—opens doors. People don’t care about your skin color once they’re singing along.

Today, when I step into predominantly White spaces, I do it consciously. I know that my presence disrupts expectations. I know that some will view me as a “diversity hire.” But I also know the truth: I am a DJ who earned my spot.

I’m not just a checkbox. I’m the person trusted to soundtrack a memory, one beat at a time.

Remember, you are loved!

- JONQPiD