Summer isn’t the same, especially for Gen Z and millennials. Communication pulses at our fingertips—emails, texts, DMs—we can hit our friends up for a vibe check on our latest situationship or send a funny video, and just like that—it’s in their hands. It’s our hallmark; we’re the kids of the golden age of socialization. Yet, despite the ease of instant connection, something was missing from my inbox this year…and last. Invite to girls’ night out? Check. Birthday dinner? Got it. Netflix and chill? Declined. Memorial Day cookout, Fourth of July cookout, Labor Day cookout? Not a single one. I could take this personally, but the beauty of social media—where you can read everyone’s updates from every corner of the globe—illuminates a different perspective. Nobody is on the grill, that is—cookouts aren’t happening, underscoring a cultural shift.

Hosting is a lost art. Cherish people who still have cookouts, get togethers. Plan nights out. The ones who don’t need a reason to get people together. We need more of those people.

— Food Heffner (@MoSanks) May 13, 2024

We joke online about who’s invited, but the cookout is more than breaking bread between friends and family. It’s a celebration of Blackness, a time for community, joy, and freedom. We dance, laugh, play cards, stuff our bellies until they feel two sizes too big. But we also hold space for deep conversations, amends, and what might be one last occasion of storytelling from our eldest loved ones. It’s not a matter of habit; it’s a cultural ritual and a vital part of our history.

The proverbial tradition, which originated as a commemoration of Emancipation Day, has always symbolized liberation. It’s a form of connection that is undeniably essential to self, community, and heritage. No matter our age, cookouts stir nostalgia, warmth, and a sense of preservation. From generation to generation, these customs have been the fabric of our lives, woven together like a cherished quilt. We were once the children running through the sprinklers without a worry. Now, we’ve become the adults working the grill, and one day, we will be the elders sitting back and reminiscing. Our grandparents used to host, followed by our aunties, uncles, and parents. Zillennials, however, face a new world that’s making it harder to keep this legacy alive.

Why the Cookout Seems Lost

Today’s Americans feel isolated and weighed down by an economy where costs are rising faster than wages. As the social media generation, we have greater access than ever, often creating superficial connections and an overreliance on parasocial relationships. We may feel more connected online, but this doesn’t always translate IRL. Additionally, people are venturing beyond their hometowns and college areas, moving to new cities, and constantly on the go. Even if we have a strong sense of tangible community, organizing large get-togethers demands more effort and travel than it did for our parents.

Let’s not even start with inflation’s impact on groceries. A couple hamburgers and hot dogs, potato salad, fruit, a pound cake, drinks, cups, utensils, and serving dishes (and that’s just a portion of what goes into a cookout) can rack up to what you might spend on a week of meals. Meanwhile, society’s growing focus on wellness and healthier lifestyles often casts the traditional cookout fare as a guilty pleasure.

And where will these gatherings take place? With more young adults living in apartments, many lack the outdoor spaces for such intimate events. On top of that, changing structures—like having fewer children, delaying marriage, or opting out entirely—reflect a transition from old-fashioned practices.

So, while we feel indebted to some of the traditions ingrained in us, they don’t always package neatly into the modern zeitgeist. This isn’t to say cookout culture is any less enduring; rather, we need to find new ways to create these moments.

Regardless of the myriad of challenges standing in our way, cookout culture remains a vibrant pillar of our communities. As Gen Z and millennials are shaping an unprecedented landscape, our staple gatherings, like game nights, still echo the timeless bliss and revered love that once filled our elders’ backyards. We must persist in seeking each other, sharing our experiences, and reveling in our triumphant moments. It is not about how the festivity unfolds but that it happens.