When Marz Lovejoy started riding a bike in 2010, she didn’t plan on falling in love with the sport the way she did. Growing up surrounded by skateboarders in Los Angeles, Lovejoy felt disconnected from skating because she rarely saw other black women and girls on boards. She preferred to drive to get around the city. But when she came across a “really cute pink bike” while also missing time outside, she decided it was the perfect vehicle to help her scratch that itch while hanging out with friends who skated.

Lovejoy’s love of cycling followed her move from LA to New York City the same year she fell in love with the sport, but once she arrived on the East Coast, she found herself feeling lonely again, missing the community and connection of others who looked like her. That all began to change in 2020 when the pandemic hit. With new rules about gathering and more people choosing to spend time outdoors, Lovejoy saw more people than ever getting on bikes. After biking across much of the city, Lovejoy wanted to share the physical and mental health benefits with other Black women. That year, Lovejoy started And Still We Ride with her friend and fellow avid cyclist Angie Chavez.

“And Still We Ride is an interpretation of (the Maya Angelou poem) about pushing damn hard,” Lovejoy says. “And we’re literally pedaling, but also figuratively. It’s a reminder that we’re here and we’re coming together.”

Since 2020, And Still We Ride has invited Black women and allies in and around New York City to participate in an annual 20-mile bike ride and related events. Last year’s ride kicked off with a food drive, where volunteers handed out fresh produce to those in need. This year, the organization is holding an awards ceremony the night before the ride to honor Black women who go above and beyond in their communities. While the ride itself is free, monetary donations to Lovejoy’s organization are always distributed to local nonprofits focused on Black women’s well-being, like Mama Glow Foundation, Black Women’s Blueprint, and Gays & Lesbians Living in a Transgender Societ (GLITS). All of these events, including the ride itself, culminate in a large block party in Brooklyn where participants and volunteers are treated to food, music, free wellness services like acupuncture and massage, and free bike tune-ups.

Every year, And Still We Ride brings together hundreds of participants in New York City. While the ride focuses on Black women and Black women’s welfare, anyone is welcome to join. Chavez, for example, is not a Black woman herself, but she continues to stand up as an ally. “(Angie) is Latina, and I think it’s beautiful that she came with me and never wavered,” Lovejoy says. “I think it’s really important for other people to be able to show up and support this thing for this specific cause, because not everything is for everyone, but that doesn’t mean we can’t show up for our brothers, sisters, siblings and their cause.”

On August 3, And Still We Ride will kick off its fifth and largest NYC ride to date, kicking off in Manuel Plaza in NoHo. To celebrate the milestone, Lovejoy and Chavez invited Baltimore-based Program Director and Cultural Producer Diamon Fisher to join their team. “I bring a lot of love and nurturing that I put into my productions,” Fisher says of her contributions to the team. “I’m from Baltimore and this city is a very Black city, 65 percent Black. So I feel like I bring that element of extra cultural spice.”

And Still We Ride is also partnering this year with Black Gotham Experience, a New York-based organization that shines a light on the lesser-known history of Black people’s impact on our daily lives and the world around us. Supported by Black Gotham Experience, the ride will stop at various landmarks around the city for short lessons in Black history.

Reaching five years and continuing to grow this community has been incredibly rewarding, but not always easy for Lovejoy — who splits her time between the Twin Cities and NYC, but continues to bring the ride to NYC. Over the years, Lovejoy considered not hosting the bike ride, given the amount of work it takes. But then she was reminded by friends, family, and community members she met along the way that this space she and her team have curated is incredibly impactful. “The reason I keep doing it is because on the day when everyone shows up, we ride together, the vibes are up, and afterwards everyone is just like, ‘Damn, this was so beautiful. I needed this,’” Lovejoy says.

It’s that collective energy that inspires Fisher, too. “We’re women who make it look really easy and we make it look fly and everything else. And we’re so graceful as we go through the process,” she says of organizing the event. “But I think one of the things I really want people to know about us is that we’re real women trying to shake things up for ourselves, for our families, for our communities.”

Despite the challenges of organizing a massive bike ride with team members spread across the country, And Still We Ride continues to bring Black women and allies together for a space of community building and gathering. “There are things we can and will do alone, but we just need each other. We are so much stronger as a pack. We are literally hundreds deep, and we can cross bridges as a pack,” Lovejoy says. “But when I ride alone, just on my bike, I can’t cross the Williamsburg Bridge where the cars are. And so for me, riding a bike is really spiritual. It’s like it’s an act of resistance, it’s liberation, it’s freedom.”