Many locals know that for many years, the pedestrian overpasses above Interstate 80 in west Berkeley have been the site of numerous protests.
But since January, a new group of activists been gathering on one such concrete bridge – captivating commuters with fun and family-friendly Friday night dance parties (opens in new tab), replete with glow sticks and whimsical inflatable costumes. They call it the “Overpass Visibility Dance Party.”
This gathering is a new weekly collaboration between Indivisible (opens in new tab), a nationwide progressive organization and others who call themselves “NICE” agents, as in “Not ICE.” (opens in new tab)
“The idea of going to protest is really intimidating to a lot of people, even if people feel strongly about the encroachment of tyranny,” Jennifer Quinn, one of the organizers of NICE.
The overpass party is more approachable, and arguably, more fun, than a conventional protest.
“I see joy as an important element in resistance,” Quinn added, noting that she’s been inspired by Days Like This (opens in new tab), a weekly community dance party at Lake Merritt in Oakland.
A person dances in front of a peace sign at the Overpass Visibility Dance Party on Feb. 13, 2026. | Source: Jungho Kim for The Standard
At a recent gathering, dozens of attendees, ranging in age from babies to seniors, were decked out in frog and unicorn outfits, which first became an anti-ICE trope during protests last year in Portland, Ore (opens in new tab).
The overpass scene was celebratory and eclectic (opens in new tab): some people brought their own lights, chairs and speakers, with others joining to dance.
Kids blew soap bubbles while dogs ran around in neon collars. Teenagers in inflatable cat and axolotl costumes danced to Chappel Roan and Ke$ha, while a lone speaker blasted Muse next to an animated protester in dark sunglasses and a beaming heart necklace.
The idea came together earlier this year, when Quinn first encountered Maria Shanle, a volunteer with Indivisible East Bay – they met on the very same overpass during a daytime protest following Renee Good’s death.
On that day, when the sun was going down and people were slowly phasing out, the two struck up a conversation. Soon, they had dreamt up a new way to activate the location which, when night falls, is normally just filled with the endless drone of cars zooming below.
Tess Daingle, 14, dances with friends on the University Ave. overpass in Berkeley on Friday, Feb. 13, 2026. | Source: Jungho Kim for The Standard
While the same overpass is a common gathering spot for quotidian activism, the nighttime party takes the vibes to a new level.
“[The party] is something new and fresh for the drivers,” Shanle said. “[It’s] a very positive, open, welcoming and family-friendly environment.”
Last Friday, she personally greeted partygoers with Valentine’s-themed cupcakes, Costco Pizza and portable strobe lights.
Throughout the bridge, partygoers were invited to support the various entities supporting the party, including the Immigrant Defense Network (opens in new tab).
Vera Chang (opens in new tab), a professor of environmental justice at St. Mary’s College, brought her whole family. Her husband, in comical inflatable pants, kept an eye on their toddler in a stroller, who observed the lights with awe.
Chang, who went to college in Minnesota, said many of her friends live in the neighborhoods where the latest violent incidents had occurred.
“There’s an interesting confluence of energy that’s taking place here,” she said, while wearing a baby carrier. “People are reaching deep inside themselves for reasons to have hope and to generate change.”
A person waves an American flag next to banners in Berkeley on Friday, Feb. 13, 2026. | Source: Jungho Kim for The Standard
That sentiment was pervasive among nearly everyone who came out.
While wearing a floor-length flowery dress and foam goggles, one attendee who gave her name as “V-Mama,” said she was finally ready to head home, having danced to the entire latest Bad Bunny album while on the overpass.
“I felt so helpless with everything that’s been happening over the last few weeks, so much division and meanness,” she said. “Dance is my happy place. I wanted to move the energy, to make a statement. I love the idea of joyful resistance.”
While the cacophony of music definitely adds to the vibe, Quinn, the organizer, noted that she’s now looking for a “mainstream DJ who knows how to make teenagers dance.”
Hopefully, she mused, getting young people to spur connections and interactions would embolden them to take action in the future.
“If you don’t know anyone to go to a protest with, you just might meet someone on the overpass,” she said.