An LGBTQ Love Story in ‘Public Obscenities’

By Christine Stoddard | cstoddard@queensledger.com

The following ran in the Feb. 8, 2024 print edition of the newspaper:

Abrar Haque (Choton) and Tashnuva Anan (Shou). Photo by Hollis King for TFANA.

A slow burn, Public Obscenities is a touching story about a Queer Studies PhD candidate who returns to his family home in Kolkata with his African-American boyfriend, a director of photography. Over the course of this 2-hour-and-40-minute play, the couple leans into many layers of pleasure and affect, discussing identity and exploring both the troubles and beauties of translation. This bilingual play, written and directed by Shayok Misha Chowdhury, is performed in English and Bangla. The run, which began on Jan. 17, continues through Feb. 18.

Theatre for a New Audience (TFANA) is the producer and presenter of this show. The venue is the Polonsky Shakespeare Center, which TFANA calls home, and is located at 262 Ashland Pl. in Fort Greene.

Remaining Show Dates:

Feb. 8, 7:30pm

Feb. 9, 7:30pm

Feb. 10, 2 & 7:30pm

Feb. 11, 2 & 7:30pm

Feb. 13, 7:30pm

Feb. 14, 7:30pm

Feb. 15, 7:30pm

Feb. 16, 7:30pm

Feb. 17, 2 & 7:30pm

Feb. 18, 2 & 7:30pm

Letter from the Editor (Feb. 8, 2024 edition)

By Christine Stoddard | cstoddard@queensledger.com

The following appeared in the Feb. 8, 2024 print edition of the paper:

Dear readers,

On the cover of this issue, you will find a photo of a man named Francis. I met him in 2018 while living in Crown Heights and he was one of many neighbors whose photo I took. There is something so intimate about taking someone’s portrait: asking for a few moments of their time, maybe longer, and trying to capture something about essence. Maybe it is their essence. Maybe it is the essence of an era or a mood. The objectives can change from portrait to portrait, assignment to assignment, project to project. I do not know anything about Francis and his life now. I know that our paths crossed in late winter a few years ago, when I was still finding my footing in Brooklyn as a hopeful transplant. I also know that he is a Black man and that representing people of color and marginalized groups in our borough is part of my duty as community editor. There is no one way to be a Brooklynite. I am proud to wish you all a happy Black History Month. In last week’s issue, the love in honor of this annual observance began and in this week’s issue, the love continues.

One person I am excited to profile for Black History Month is Jada Bennett of Bay Ridge. Jada and I met in the theater world while working on a production together in 2022. It was through that relationship that I learned that Jada is not only an actress but a dancer, singer, beauty pageant queen, and an invaluable member of the Brooklyn Cyclones staff. This Minor League Baseball team plays out of Maimonides Park in Coney Island. Jada is captain of the team’s Surf Squad, sings the National Anthem at their games, and more. I interviewed her for “Badass Lady-Folk,” my Manhattan Neighborhood Network TV show, and transcribed part of the episode here for you to read.

Speaking of contacts from the theater world, I am also thrilled to introduce you to Laurence C. Schwartz, a director I have worked with since 2021. He wrote a book about his experiences as an adjunct professor. One of the many institutions whose classrooms he has graced is Kingsborough Community College, part of the CUNY system. An excerpt about his time there appears in this issue.

Now, onto reading!

Yours in all things BK,

Christine Stoddard

Brooklyn Community Editor

‘Believe the Hype’ Column: Revering African Artifacts and New Mexican Fare

By Christine Stoddard | cstoddard@queensledger.com

I stand corrected. In my previous column, I cited statistics about Brooklyn’s Black population using numbers provided by Brooklyn.org. While there was nothing wrong about those numbers (to my current knowledge), Matt Sollars, vice president of the non-profit communications firm Anat, sent me an email about Brooklyn.org. In my column, I wrote that Brooklyn.org was run by the Brooklyn Community Foundation. This was because, at time of press, the website’s footer, Brooklyn.org lists this: “© 2024 Brooklyn Community Foundation DBA Brooklyn Org.” But notice that there is no period between “Brooklyn” and “Org”–and if you didn’t know, DBA stands for “doing business as.” Sollars explained that last fall, the organization underwent a name change. Thus, Brooklyn Community Foundation became Brooklyn Org, and still runs the website Brooklyn.org. In his message, Sollars wrote: “The name change is driven by the org’s mission to engage with all of the borough’s communities and to open up philanthropy to all of its people. Brooklyn Org wants to be a platform and hub for Brooklynites to organize and support efforts to help each other and build the borough.”

It is exciting to receive emails like this for a few reasons: 1. I see that people are reading the column. 2. I get the chance to correct or clarify statements to better serve readers. 3. I learn more about our borough. 4. I feel invited to improve upon future columns.

An Overdue Museum Visit

Since the last edition of “Believe the Hype,” I have stopped by the Cultural Museum of African Art – The Eric Edwards Collection. Or at least “stopping by” was my intention. It ended up being a full-fledged visit, cut short only by other appointments. Every day for months, I have walked past this museum. The grand opening took place on November 18, 2023 only a couple of blocks from my home. This event happened prior to my coming on as community editor of the Brooklyn Downtown Star and Greenpoint Star. Had that not been the case, I might have joined some of the illustrious folks in attendance: Dr. Eric Edwards, founder and executive director of CMAAEEC; Stefani Zinerman, NYS Assemblymember, District 56; Rodney Leon, architect of the African Burial Ground National Monument, the “Ark of Return” at the United Nations, and CMAAEEC; Ambassador Sidique Abou-Bakarr Wai of Sierra Leone; Dr. Mohammed Nurhussein, chairman of the United African Congress; and others. Opening a museum is a political game that requires funding, which Eddie Gajadar, strategic project manager for CMAAEEC, told me has been a process for the institution.

A view of artifacts on display at CMAAEEC. Photo by Christine Stoddard.

By the numbers, CMAAEEC is an impressive collection (re-read last week’s edition for the stats), but, more importantly to me, it is a moving one. I am more likely to be swayed by art than data. The confusing jaunt around Restoration Plaza and to the office space above the Applebee’s was all worth the trouble when I saw the exhibition. African sculptures, masks, and objects of veneration that have been collected with care from across the continent are a rarity. As Gajadar mentioned, much of the African art at The Metropolitan Museum of Art is from East Africa, not spanning the whole continent. Yet Dr. Edwards, founder of the collection, which originated from his home in the 1970s, has taken great care to give these pieces a respectful public resting place. Gajadar told me that Dr. Edwards was a successful AT&T engineer and global salesman, achieving results that were largely unthinkable for an African-American man in the 1960s. African art became his investment—and obsession.

The CMAAEEC space is minimal, quiet, and full of light, allowing for reverence, reflection, and joy. That is the power of intentional design. I personally felt very peaceful looking at the works and then out the windows (yes, all of them), onto the bustling Fulton Street, one of the many arteries where Brooklyn street life pulses. It is fitting that CMAAEEC, a tribute to African ancestors, exists in Bedford-Stuyvesant, the capital of Brooklyn’s Black cultures.

Santa Fe BK

Another place that recently brought me joy and evidenced intentional design was Santa Fe BK in Williamsburg. John Watterberg, who owns the New Mexican restaurant with his wife, Melissa Klein, told me that what he hopes patrons most feel at their establishment is love. Watterberg, a native of Albuquerque, and Klein, a native of Milwaukee, first met in Brooklyn while working as a bartender and waitress, respectively. “We fell so in love in Summer 2007,” he said. And that love infuses the restaurant, which is warm and evocative of Southwestern aesthetics and hospitality.

My partner and I ordered (and highly recommend) the following: the Watterburger, Taco Salad, Chicken Flautas, and Chips & Queso. For drinks, we shared three cocktails: A Good Margarita (which is more than good), Queensmoot, and The Dornishman’s Wife. For a future visit, I am curious about the Enchiladas, as well breakfast burrito options available from 8am to 3pm, or “until they’re gone.” Note: I capitalized the names of the aforementioned dishes to indicate their exact names on the menu so you can order those specific things should you wander over to Santa Fe BK. Maybe for, say, Valentine’s Day.

Melissa (left) and John (right), the married couple behind Santa Fe BK.

While the restaurant has romantic vibes, Watterberg assured me they have a high chair and do serve families, with many dining before 7pm. Watterberg and Klein are parents themselves, with a 9-year-old boy and 5-year-old girl. Their children’s favorite item on the menu is the Bacon Burrito, without the Green Chile so beloved by many adult patrons.

One of my favorite touches at Santa Fe BK? Complimentary Sopapillas with honey. The fried pastries reminded me of the family-style restaurants of my Northern Virginia childhood—Uncle Julio’s in Arlington and Anita’s in Fairfax, for any other NoVa transplants reading this.

‘Badass Lady-Folk TV’: Jada Bennett of the Brooklyn Cyclones

The following is an excerpt from an episode of the TV talk show “Badass Lady-Folk,” featuring guest Jada Bennett, a dancer, singer, actress, and Brooklyn Cyclones entertainment coordinator based in Bay Ridge. Hosted by Christine Stoddard and filmed at Manhattan Neighborhood Network, “Badass Lady-Folk” is a feminist talk show that originated on Radio Free Brooklyn, where it airs on Fridays at 9am.

This transcript has been edited and condensed for print purposes:

Christine: You’re  watching  “Badass  Lady  Folk.”  I’m  your  host,  Christine  Stoddard  and  this  episode,  my  guest  is  Jada  Bennett.  Hi,  Jada!

Jada: Hi,  Christine!

Christine: It’s  so  wonderful  to  have  you, Jada.  Actress,  singer,  Brooklyn  Cyclones–what  is  your  title  there?

Jada: [I’d put it as Entertainment Coordinator and Captain of the Surf Squad.]

Christine: Yeah,  so  we  met  at  “The White  Blacks” [at Theater for a New City]  which  is  a  production  that  has  come  up  on  this  show  a  couple  different  times  because  I  had  Melanie  Goodreaux, the  writer-director  on.  When  I  met  you  at  that  production,  I  was  immediately  struck  by  your  range  because  you  played  a  couple  different  characters and you  also  sang  beautifully in  it.

Jada: Thank you.

Christine: No  one else  really  sang in that show,  so  it’s  nice  to  have  some  singing.

Jada: Yeah,  I  had  to  sing  in  the  audition  for  that  show.

Christine: Were  you  told  you’d  be  singing?

Jada: No,  not  initially. I  auditioned  for  that  show  [in 2022],  and  I  came  in–I  knew  that  the  show  had  already  been  done  before  and  that  I  was  coming  in  and  I  wasn’t  sure  how  many  people  had  done  the  show  before  that  were  coming back.  I  wasn’t  sure how  everything  was  gonna  work  but  I  went  in  and  I  knew  that  I  would  be  playing  a  couple  of  characters,  but  I  also  didn’t  know  the  extent  of  all  of  that. So  I  read  for  both  Raunika–no,  Raunika  doesn’t  have  lines–I  read  for  Gladys  and  Patricia,  only  one  scene  for  each  one, and  they  were  very  different  from  each  other,  and  I  was  like,  “Okay,  all  right,  let’s  roll  with  this.”  That show definitely  tested  how  much  I  could  do  at  once.

Christine: Yeah.  (laughs)

Jada: Because  even  though  I  had  smaller, shorter  time  on  stage,  I  knew  that  I  had  a  lot  to  convey  in  that  short  amount  of  time.  So  I  was  just  making  sure  that  when  I  was  in  that  character, I  was  in  that  character  just  living  in  that  person’s  world  and  making  that  world  as  big  as  I  possibly  could,  so  that  the  words  that  I  was  saying  still  had  the  story  behind  them.  Yeah,  that  was  a  lot  of  fun. I  would  do  that  show  again  in  the  heartbeat.

Christine: Yeah,  that  was  a  beautiful  show.  So  then  during  the  audition,  they  were  just  like,  “Hey,  can  you  sing?”

Jada: Yeah,  so  I  was  reading  for  Patricia  and  there’s  a  story– you  and  I  are  in  the  scene  together,

Christine: I’m the mean  white  girl.

Jada: You  were  a  passé  blanc  in  the  street  and  I  knew  you  and  knew  who  you  were. So I  had  to  read  that  in  the  audition.  And  it  said,  “The  hills  are  alive”  because  I  was  singing  “The Sound of Music.” And  so  I  just  went  for  it  and  sang  it, and  they’re  like,  “Fantastic,  great.  So  you’re  gonna  really  sing  this then.” She  was  like,  “Can  you  sing  it?  Can  you  do  it?” So  I  just,  I  sang  it, and  I  went  for  it,  and  she’s  like,  “That  really  did  it  for  us.  So  now  you’re  doing  this  on  the  show.”  I  was  like,  “Sounds  great.”

Christine: So  how  did  you  get  into  acting?

Jada: Oh,  I  mean,  I  have always  been  doing  it  since  I  was  little.  I  was  always  that  kid  that  was,  like,  doing  performances  for  my  stuffed  animals  and  for  my  family. Like,  I  did  it  all  the  time.  I  made  my  little  brother  do  it.  So  I’ve  always  been  around  art.  I  started  as  a  dancer  first.  And  then,  when  I  really  got  into  acting  and  shows  would  have  been  my  fifth  grade  year. I  had  just  moved  to  a  new  town  and  I  met  some  people  and  they  were  doing  the  school  musical  and  so  I  decided  to  do  it  as  well.

Christine: Aw,  so  you  would  have  friends?

Jada: Yeah,  correct. It  was  “Cinderella”  and  I  got  the  fairy  godmother. Ever  since  then,  I  did  every  school  musical,  like,  from  then  on  till  I  graduated. In sophomore  year  of high  school,  I  was  doing  “Hairspray” and  decided  that  I  just  wanted  to  do  it  forever.  So  here  we  are.

Christine: Aw.  So  what  kind  of  dancing  did  you  start  doing?

Jada: I  did  what  every  little  girl  who  did  dance  as  a  little  kid did.  I  started  at  like  two,  three  years  old,  and did  the  same  tap /ballet  combo  class: half  of  the  class  is  tap  and  half  of  the  class  is  ballet.

That’s the end of the excerpt! Watch the full episode at Youtube.com/@badassladyfolk or below. Find out more about Badass Lady-Folk at BadassLadyFolk.com.

‘Badass Lady-Folk TV’: Clinton Hill Comedian Hollie Harper

By Christine Stoddard | cstoddard@queensledger.com

The following is an excerpt from an episode of the TV talk show Badass Lady-Folk, featuring guest Hollie Harper, a comedian and actress based in Clinton Hill. Hosted by Christine Stoddard and filmed at Manhattan Neighborhood Network, Badass Lady-Folk is a feminist talk show that originated on Radio Free Brooklyn, where it airs on Fridays at 9am. This transcript has been edited and condensed for print purposes:

Badass Lady-Folk talk show

Badass Lady-Folk talk show episode featuring guest Hollie Harper and host Christine Stoddard.

Christine: Hello there, you’re watching or listening to Badass Lady Folk. I’m your host, Christine Stoddard. And this episode, my guest is Hollie Harper. Welcome, Hollie.

Hollie: Hi, thank you. Thank you for having me.

Christine: Yeah, of course. I had the director, who you know, Melanie Goodreaux on the show.

Hollie: Yes, yes.

Christine: She was our first guest.

Hollie: Oh!

Christine: And that, dear listeners, is how Hollie and I met working on this production, [“The White Blacks” at Theater for the New City]. But Hollie is really just a brilliant all-around actress.

Hollie: Thank you.

Christine: Comedian especially.

Hollie: Thank you. I’m silly. You are silly. I say inappropriate things and then I realize that’s my strength.

Christine: I like how everywhere on your branding it’s comedy nerd.

Hollie: Yes.

Christine: So tell me, what is that about? A comedy nerd.

Hollie: Okay. It took me a long time to realize I was a comedy nerd. But, okay, it started when I was like eight or nine, nine years old with Mad Magazine. And I was like,

Christine: R .I .P.

Hollie: Yes. (laughing) And then it was Cracked, you know what I mean? But I felt like, I remember when I saw it the first time I was like, “Is this real?” I was like, “Oh my God, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Like, and then Cracked was like a shoot off of Mad. I just, I was religious with it. And then any kind of comedy sitcom, any kind of comedy movie. And I love funny songs, I love sketch shows, I love sitcoms, I love funny moments on talk shows. And I realized you’re, you’re a freaking comedy nerd. Like I love stand-up, I love to do funny plays. So, I am just a nerd, a nerd for things that are comedic.

Christine: Yeah, what were some of–besides Mad and besides Cracked–what were some of the early references, some of the sitcoms and movies and whatever else you just adored as a kid?

Hollie: Okay, this is so great: Three’s Company. That stuff was trash, it was trash. But it was high art trash. And I realized, I started getting to the point. where I started keeping a journal. I kept a diary from five to 25. It’s the strangest thing, to go back, I kept a consistent diary for 20 years. From kindergarten until the second year out of theater school.

Christine: Did your parents read it?

Hollie: They’ve read a couple things. I got grounded a few times. I was like, why y’all reading my stuff? Like, what’s wrong with you? But I was not a bad kid. I was just like, damn. (chuckles) Guess I thought I could write here but it was not a safe space. Why are you–just to get intel, but I would keep a diary and I would watch sitcoms and I would start listing different types of jokes and I didn’t realize that I was really just breaking down what comedy was to the point where I’d be watching Three’s Company and I remember realizing when there were double entendres, telling things that meant two things. Like, I remember Jack and Chrissy were, like, moving a couch, moving a mattress in the bedroom, and Janet would be in the living room and they’d be like, “It’s too big !” And she’d be like, “So, it’s too big.”

Christine: Yeah.

Hollie: So that just, yo.

Christine: That show was not for children.

Hollie: It was not.

Christine: But so many people watched it as little kids.

Hollie: Okay, my son is in the sixth grade, right, and let me tell you something, when you have kids, you get these crazy flashbacks of things you did when you see them at that age you long forgot. So my son had a science project (and I went through this with my 16-year-old, too). I went through this last night. BS they do. It’ll be like 10 o ‘clock at night, they be like. “I got a science project.”

Christine: Oh no.

Hollie: You’re like, what? Look, I got to rush. You got to come up with a hypothesis and like, remember that [three-sided presentation board].

Christine: They’re so big.

Hollie: It was a nightmare. They’re huge, and they still do it. They still do it. You know, just once, I want to do adult science projects with comedians.[When I was a kid], I had some science project. I don’t even know what it was, but I waited. And all of a sudden I was like, “Oh my God, I’m just gonna have to dazzle them with a performance.” And my dad was like, “No, like you need–”

Christine: This is middle or high school?

Hollie: I was 11, in sixth grade. And everyone had to go up and present this project. And I don’t know what I was thinking, but I just came up in front of the class and they’re all just sitting there ‘cause they knew I was a little silly They’re like, “What is this girl gonna do?” And all of a sudden I just said, “Hit the lights,” and I had a friend, he was on the lights, and the lights went out and the teacher was like, “What’s going on?” And the lights came on and it went poof! This big, like, baby powder and then came on Herbie Hancock’s “Rockit,” and I started, like, moonwalking and, like, doing this whole dance. And I was just something like, “Oh, the clouds, really, the clouds.” But it was ridiculous. I got, like, an A for presentation and then, like, a D for my report.

Christine: Was the teacher laughing during all that?

Hollie: The teacher was dying. The teacher was like 28 years old and like, “What is happening?” I was like dancing all around, I felt the desk, I was like leaping over the desk…oh my God, it was ridiculous. I changed, I had an outfit and I went on the hallway and I put an outfit on and came back in.

Christine: Wow.

Hollie: They were just like, “Why’d you do all that?” And I was just like, “I had nothing prepared.” And I was like, “I think if I could just razzle -bazzle them, they would just…” And it worked. All of the teachers looked at me for a week. Like, “You’re the kid with the baby powder?” And the janitor’s like, “I had to clean that sh*t out.” Janitor was pissed.

Christine:  Early improv, right?

Hollie: I think back on it, I’m like, “If my son did that now, I’d be so pissed.” I told him that, and he was like, “You didn’t…why didn’t you do your project?” I was like, “No, I danced it out and had sound effects. It was ridiculous.”

Christine: So let’s fast forward to theater school. What made you decide to do that? well it was crazy to

Hollie: When I was a little kid, I got into acting in Philly. I was Tinkerbell at a community theater in a suburb of Philadelphia. My  mom  got  remarried and we moved to South  Jersey.  I  had  a  teacher  who  really  hated  me  in  the  sixth  grade.  But  I  tried  out  for  the  play.  and  I  hadn’t  done  any  acting  since  I  left  Philly  when  I  was  nine.  So  I  was  like  11.  And  I  was  like,  I  auditioned  for  this  play,  but  my  mom  had  a  dentist  appointment. She’s  gonna  pick  me  up  and  the  callback  sheet  wasn’t  going  up  to  the  end  of  the  day.  So  I  was  like,  “Mr.  Dixon,  did  I  make  it  in  the  callback?”  And  she  goes,  “No,  and  you  aren’t  very  good.”

Christine: (gasps) No!

Hollie: Yo. She,  like,  crushed  the  acting  me  for  years.

Christine: How  could  she  crush  a  child  like  that?

Hollie: Evil -hearted  woman.

Christine: Yeah,  when  I  hear  people  say,  “Oh,  anyone  can  be  a  teacher,”  that  is  not  true.

Hollie: No,  they  can  pass  the  test, but  you  actually  being…no,  she  was  horrible.  She  hated  me.

Christine: I’m  so  sorry.

Hollie: That’s  okay. It  wasn’t  till  I  was  almost  17  that  I  started  acting  again.  And  then  I  was  at  a  boarding  school  and  this  girl  on my  cheerleading  squad  was  like, “You  know,  my  mom’s  a  director  and  she’s  going  to  be  directing  the  play  here.  Why  don’t  you  just  try  out  for  it?”  And  I  was  like,  “Oh, no.”

Christine: Did you tell  that  friend  about  what  happened  to  you?

Hollie: No,  I  didn’t.

Christine: But  she  sensed.

Hollie: Yeah,  ‘cause  I  was  like,  we  talked  about  movies  all  time.  And  she  was  a  Broadway  actress,  a  child  Broadway  actress  that  was  just  in  our  boarding  school. And  so  I  auditioned  for  the  play.  I  got  the  lead  in  the  play  and  her  mother  and  then  the  new  acting  teacher  at  our  school  were  all “Gung  ho,  Hollie Harper.” They  changed  the  trajectory  of  my  life.  They  taught  me  what  theater school was. And  so  they  found  the  auditions,  they  were  like,  this  is  where  you  need  to  go,  this  is  what  you  need  to  do.  They  helped  me  do  everything.  They  really  changed  the  path  of  my  life.  And  that  director,  I  still  talk  to  her  on  Facebook  at  least  once  a  month.  This  is  like  30  years  later.  I  still  talk  to  her.  It  was  precious. She’s  just  a  really  good  person.

Christine: So  you  went  to  DePaul.

Hollie: Yeah,  I  went  to  DePaul  Theatre  School.

Christine: Okay,  you’re  gonna  talk  sh*t  or  sing  your  praises or was it both?

Hollie: Okay,  it  was  a  horrible  time  in  my  life  and  it  was  a beautiful  time  in  my  life.  I  had  to  really  sort  this  out  in  2020  with  the  racial  reckoning  because  I  saw   something  with  Jon  Baptiste  and  all  these  different  black  actors  and  musicians  were  talking  about  what  it’s  like  to  be  Black  at  music  and  theater  conservatories  and  I  was  like,   I  don’t  think  a  lot  people  really  understand. But  the  actual  instruction  I  got I  think  is  second  to  nothing.  Okay,  ‘cause my  mom  got  remarried, I  got  new  siblings.  They’re  awesome,  but  I  went  from  being  in  Philly,  which  was  like  Brooklyn, very  multicultural,  to  being  like  in  a  Trump  pants  land in  South  Jersey. I was the only  black  kid  in  the  class.   I  remember  being  in  the  first  day  of  school,  like  getting  on  a  school  bus  and  there  were,  you  know,  all  white  kids  and  me,  and  like  nobody  even  wanna  sit  next  to  me.

Christine: Gross.

Hollie: I  dealt  with  a  lot  of  racism  when  I  was  little  and  it was  crazy.  What’s crazy  is  the  fact  that  I  see  these  people  now  and  we’re  adults  and  we’re  like,  “Hey,  how  are  you?”  I  don’t  think  they  really  processed  how  they  affected  a  kid.  Do  you  know  what  I  mean?  I  went  there  and  then  I  went  to  boarding  school.  My  favorite  place  on  earth  is  my  boarding  school.  Like,  when  I  go  back  to  my  boarding  school  now,  I   lay  on  the  grass  and  I  cry.  Like  I  wanna  be  buried  there. Like  I  love  that  place.

Christine: How  many  years  were  you  there?

Hollie:  I  was  there  for  three  years.

Christine: Okay,  wow.

Hollie: I  went  back  and  I  taught  sketch  comedy  this  past  January.  I  love  that  place, they  changed  my  life.  But  it  was  mostly  a  white  space.  And  then  by  the  time  I  got  to  theater  school, there  was  a  part  in  me  that  was  just  burnt  out  from  being  in  white  spaces.  Like,  it  was  funny  how  there  was  like  the  racial  reckoning  in  2020. That  sh*t  happened  for  me  in  1988.  I  was  a  teenager,  that  happened  for  me.  All  of  a  sudden  I  just  started  really  looking  around  at  power  structures,  class, gender,  race,  just  capitalism,  just  being  an  American.  ‘Cause our school was  a  Quaker  boarding  school.  All  you  do  is  talk  about  ideas. And  you  live  there, so  there’s  no  off  button.  You  know  what  I  mean?  And you  either fit  in  or  you  don’t.  You  know  what  I  mean?  If  you’re  like,  I  just  think  America’s  cool,  you’re  not  gonna  fit  in.  You  know  what  I  mean?  They’re  gonna  be  like,  uh,  you  don’t  have  questions?  So  by  the  time I  got  to  theater  school,  racially,  it  was  a  nightmare,  but  for  me,  like  internally,  there  was  nobody  beating  me  down.  There  was  nobody  mean, you  know  what  I  mean?

Watch the full episode at YouTube.com/@badassladyfolk. Find out more about Badass Lady-Folk at BadassLadyFolk.com.

Letter From the Editor – From Feb. 1, 2024 Print Edition

By Christine Stoddard | cstoddard@queensledger.com

The following first appeared in the Feb. 1, 2024 print edition: 

Dear readers,

Happy Black History Month! In this issue, I am excited to introduce you to Black comedian Hollie Harper if you do not know her already. I always find value in creating and reading transcripts of video interviews. After all, “watching a video” is not a universal experience. Somebody who is blind or vision impaired has a different frame of reference for a video interview than someone who has a more standard range of vision. Same goes for the deaf and hearing impaired versus those who are not. Reading a transcript allows us to focus on the content of what is being said, though it does of course limit our ability to observe body language or tone of voice. A transcript privileges the text, which has its pluses and minuses.

This issue also features a submitted essay on Black Land Ownership, a community organization in Greenpoint, from Melissa Hunter Gurney, a poet and fiction writer I have known since before I even moved to Brooklyn. I know reading it made me pause and reconsider what land ownership means for Black folks.

Now for some lighter fare: The letter from Jackie Cavalla on our ‘Dispatch’ page honestly surprised me. A couple of weeks ago, when I whipped out a pigeon doodle and brainstormed ways to make pigeon facts a little silly, I was not expecting any kind of response. Sometimes, we writers come up with content that amuses us or follows our personal interests. We fill a page and hope it brightens someone’s day or makes them chuckle. No further reaction required or anticipated. But it just goes to show that any story can inspire a reply–even a written one! With photos!

I cannot mention personal interests without acknowledging poetry. Your emails and social media comments made it very clear that many of you have been loving the Brooklyn Poetry Feature. Just because the New York Times stopped running poems does not mean we have to do the same! Your enthusiasm convinced me to keep the poetry series running just a tad longer, or at least until the submissions run dry. Keep ‘em coming!

Yours in all things BK,

Christine Stoddard

Brooklyn Community Editor

cstoddard@queensledger.com

‘Believe the Hype’ Column: Black History Month & African Art Museums

By Christine Stoddard | cstoddard@queensledger.com

It is February, which means it is Black History Month, and in Brooklyn of all places, that must be observed. On the website Brooklyn.org, run by the Brooklyn Community Foundation, bold text declares that the borough is home to the second-largest Black population in the United States. Who’s in first place? Chicago. And despite Atlanta having a higher percentage of Black folks (47.6 vs. 38. 8 percent, per Census.gov), Brooklyn has more Black residents than Atlanta and Detroit combined. Brooklyn’s Black population is more than 730,000 people, which is bigger than the entire population of Washington, D.C. How does this compare to the national percentage of Black people? 13.6 percent of the U.S. population self-identifies as Black. Stats—they’re fascinating!

Bedstuyfly

There’s a clothing shop called Bedstuyfly (styled like that, all as one word) that opened when Ralph Ave. was my C stop. It has a second location that I have come to know on Fulton St., closer to the Kingston-Throop stop on the C. The flashy designs, with bright colors and memorable slogans celebrating Brooklyn and Blackness caught my attention from first glance. The style seems to be Hip-Hop Meets Hipster and, when in doubt there’s the aesthetic choice of “put a pigeon on it” à la Portlandia’s “put a bird on it.” One ball cap that especially stands out bears the words “There should be more Black billionaires.”

Side note: If you are curious about which African-American entrepreneurs, athletes, and entertainers are billionaires, don’t worry, I found you the answer: Tyler Perry, LeBron James, Tiger Woods, Tope Awotona, Alexander Karp, Michael Jordan, Jay-Z, Oprah Winfrey, David Steward, and Robert F. Smith. Notice that I specified African-American, not African or Black more broadly.

Black Billionaires

One argument for why there are not more Black billionaires is colonialism and its lasting legacy. The notion of “post” in the pop academic term “post-colonialism” is false if disparities based on race and ethnicity, steeped in colonial hierarchies, still exist. The challenge is, how can Black people build wealth if they are still coping with such socio-economic inequity?

Museums’ Reckoning

When you think of colonialism, it’s natural to turn your mind to museums. Right now museums are undergoing a major reckoning. The Biden administration changed the 1990 Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGRPA), making it so that museums must have consent to display items from Indigenous cultures. This has meant a big upheaval at the American Museum of Natural History, where the admissions of guilt flooded a letter from President Sean Decatur to his museum staff. This letter is publicly available on the AMNH website. In it, the president of the museum admitted that the institution holds remains from five enslaved African-Americans. Their bodies had been extracted from a burial ground in Inwood during a city road construction project in 1903-1904.

In the letter, Decatur writes, “Enslavement was a violent, dehumanizing act; removing these remains from their rightful burial place ensured that the denial of basic human dignity would continue even in death. Identifying a restorative, respectful action in consultation with local communities must be part of our commitment.” You can say that again!

Cultural Museum of African Art

One museum that has piqued my curiosity, though not yet my attendance, is the Cultural Museum of African Art. You will find it in Bedford-Stuyvesant at 1360 Fulton St., 2nd floor. You probably know this shopping complex, which is home to Restoration Plaza, for its Applebee’s and the post office. In 1971, a Brooklynite named Eric Edwards purchased a maternity female statue of Senufo-Bambara origin from Mali; the rest, as they say, was history. I’m skipping a few steps to fast-forward to 2023: Edwards eventually curated more than 3,000 artifacts from all 54 countries of Africa. The museum, which opened in February of last year, houses his collection spanning 4,000 years. The opening was scheduled to coincide with Black History Month. Now you can visit Tuesday through Saturday, 10am to 5:30pm.

Museum of African Art & World Cultures

Being a journalist makes me a naturally inquisitive and observant person, and these qualities have only been strengthened through training and experience. Every time I walk out the door, there is potential for a new discovery. On Bedford Avenue, on the Bed-Stuy/Clinton Hill border, perhaps you, too, have noticed the banner that reads “COMING SOON! Museum of African Art & World Cultures.” You will see it between Madison St. and Putnam Ave.

Now, running errands this past week, the banner caught my eye mainly because I have only recently started sojourning to that area regularly again but also because it was bright white on a gray day. It triggered a memory: a smaller museum called the Bedford Stuyvesant Museum of African Art (BSMAA) from years ago. I had these nagging questions. When was that? Where had this museum been exactly? Was it in this same spot or farther east? The pandemic has blurred my sense of time and place. Besides, I have to be honest: I never stepped inside of that museum.

So I did some Googling. It turns out that the Bedford Stuyvesant Museum of African Art shut down due the pandemic, unsurprisingly, but it did not do so permanently. It has been renamed the Museum of African Art & World Cultures. The address–for when that reopening eventually comes–is 1157 Bedford Ave., Suite 2.

On Oct. 15, 2023, user @path_1873 posted a comment on the museum’s last Instagram post: “Is this museum permanently closed?” So I know I am not the only one who was wondering about it. The Instagram account is called @bedstuymaa, so it has not been updated to reflect the museum’s new name. Maybe that will change. The current account does not have a particularly large following: 474 followers as of Jan. 28, 2024. For comparison, @queensledger, the account for the Queens Ledger, the flagship newspaper of BQE media group, which owns the Brooklyn Star and other hyperlocal titles, has 6.8K followers. (Meanwhile, @brooklynstarweekly has a lowly 525 followers. Trust me, we are working on it! Just started this job.) If you think I’m getting hung up on numbers this column, I really am not. It is important to measure and compare things from time to time. Looking at numbers makes that possible. With the museum’s 474 followers, it may be possible to start fresh without too much hassle.

I have reached out to the Museum of African Art & World Cultures via email and made phone calls to both numbers listed on the website (office and cell) to no avail. Do you have intel? Let me know: cstoddard@queensledger.com. I am eager for updates, as I am sure the community is, too.

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