By KATHERINE LLOYD
The rumbling of the elevated J train echoes along Brooklyn’s Broadway in the neighborhood where Bedford-Stuyvesant meets Bushwick. A few blocks over from the Halsey Street stop is a brownstone located at the corner of Evergreen Avenue and Weirfield Street, where a little black light shines from the entrance of a basement apartment.
Inside, beyond the corridor painted with black and white striped walls, Macy Rodman sits on her bedroom floor. Her room is located next to an altar that sits in the hallway with occult candles lighting framed pictures of Jesus Christ and Elvira, the black-clad “mistress of the dark” from a 1988 comedy horror film. Buried in a sea of wigs and garments in front of her mirror, she begins her makeup regime for the evening show.
Macy Rodman, a drag persona created by the performer Jacob Mason Chamberlin, is 6 feet, 4 inches tall with a beautiful full face, pouty lips, blue eyes, and a pair of cheekbones capable of cutting glass. She—Chamberlin stays in the character of his drag persona when it comes to gender identification–moved to Brooklyn from Juneau, Alaska six years ago, and in 2013 took the crown at the Mr(s)Williamsburg Drag Pageant.
As Rodman fishes through her extensive collection of makeup, she comments, “If we blew up, I don’t know what that would entail. I don’t know if I’d have to do Carl’s Jr. ads.” She was referring to the possibility of achieving stardom and thus the chance of selling herself to a brand, Carl’s Jr. being a fast-food chain.
Her vehicle would be the weekly Monday night drag show she performs at Don Pedro, a bar located on Manhattan Avenue in East Williamsburg. “Bathsalts: A Drag Show for Fuck-ups,” is a zany event that has been described by Ilise Carter of the New York Times as “an off the wall experience.”
She prepares for her evening in the apartment she shares with Severely Mame (Shane Tenczar), her co-host, who is known in the scene as “New York’s favorite dead girl.” She continues to apply her cosmetics and chooses her look. The costumes are generally mismatched pantsuits from thrift stores, or random hand-me-downs. Occasionally a designer garment will be incorporated into her look. Her size 13 heels are duct-taped to her ankles, which was done originally for function, but has become a signature mark of her wardrobe.
Each week the duo hosts performances that follow a culturally relevant theme, this Monday’s being “Shebola,” mocking the recent Ebola scare in New York. “It becomes a place for people not to be PC, but it’s never been our aim to be underground or unreachable,” Rodman says as she sharpens her lip pencil.
Musician Patti Smith avowed that New York is no longer the place for young artists to go. The performance artist Penny Arcade declared that the city has lost its bohemian scene and turned suburban. Rocketing rents are forcing artists out of artsy neighborhoods, and the lament arises that New York’s cultural underground is deceased.
Yet, somehow with minimal resources, and immense creative drive, misfits like Rodman and Mame keep the essence of subversive New York City alive, and their brand has yet to be commoditized.
For over two years, Don Pedro has been a platform for Rodman and Mame to conduct outlandish avant-garde drag shows along with other live performers such as bands and performance artists. The night usually begins around 11:30 p.m. and opens with their mock talk show “Salty Talk,” in which the two discuss pop cultural hot topics.
They tell a “dad joke of the week,” wholesome humor that a dad would enjoy or express, which come from the audience or the website of Sandra Hill, romance novelist and joke writer. The talk show ends with a segment in which the two hosts have a website projected onto the wall and read poorly written fan fiction about contemporary sitcoms. The bar and its performers have been featured in the New York Times, the Huffington Post, and Out Magazine, yet this particular scene and venue remain exclusive to local outcasts and likeminded artists, drawn to Rodman and her circus.
Rodman and Mame innovated a scene that began to surface in 2011-2012. Other parties such as DRAGnet and Hot Fruit, both at Metropolitan bar in Williamsburg, began around the same time. Both events similarly host drag shows and performance artists. As the popularity of the Brooklyn scene grows, promoters who are predominantly known for their Manhattan parties, like Frankie Sharp, creator of the party Westgay at Westway on Clarkson Street on the West Side, have crossed the bridge to promote. Sharp now throws a Friday night party called Girls at Lovegun on Grand Street in Williamsburg; Rodman is a host. While these parties have created a buzz and added to the notoriety of the scene, none have achieved the cult status that Rodman and Mame have managed with Bathsalts.
“I think we gained our popularity because at the time we began, nobody was doing what we were,” Rodman explained. “Our thing was obviously the super involved themes, which I’ve seen in other places, but ours were more specific, and based on insanity and the fact that we can be as ridiculous as possible.”
Both Rodman and Mame are frequently requested to host parties outside of the bar, working with “nightlife royalty” such as Susanne Bartsch, an event producer and party host who has been introducing them to a broader audience. Bartsch, known for her opulent gowns and regal headdress, was recently re-crowned the “Queen of New York Nightlife” by Village Voice columnist Michael Musto.
“When we get booked, we’ll be a part of it, but this is what it is. We’re not hiding the fact that we’re garbage people,” Rodman said. During her drag shows, Rodman performs her own songs live, or sings popular music with an ironic twist–combining, for example, the music to the Robin Thicke song “Blurred Lines,” which had been criticized as misogynistic, with the lyrics to Nirvana’s “Rape Me.”
Victor P. Corona, a professor of sociology at Hofstra University and New York University, explained that this is the cyclic way that New York nightlife runs. Corona is finishing his book on the lineage of nightlife in New York City from the Warhol Factory to present times, and notes that this could be the beginning of a transformation in persona for Rodman and Mame, since they are being plucked from the underground by Bartsch.
“Bartsch’s strategy for years is that she appropriates them, and I mean that in a good way. She finds interesting kids who are artists and performers and elevates them into a higher light of nightlife. What happens after that is up to the will of the individual,” said Corona. “It’s like she waits at the Port Authority for kids from out of town to exit the bus, as she should be applauded for that. She’s keeping nightlife alive.”
Corona noted that in a broader sense, Rodman and Mame are leaving their mark on nightlife. Their obscure performances and “DIY” (do it yourself) mentality and aesthetic appeal to young New Yorkers, who have little money and great ambitions. “In some ways they inspire kids to come and join in, or one-up them. They inspire people around them, even if those inspired won’t admit it. Inevitably it has an effect. It becomes known and becomes a reference point,” he concluded.
Even though the performers have achieved some notice as nightlife personalities, with references in the media and gigs at larger venues, Don Pedro tends to slip beneath the radar of institutionalized forms of culture and media.
“It’s extremely dive-y and not exclusively gay,” says Severely Mame, sitting at a table in the bar while dressed as a sad clown, waiting to appear at the Wednesday night “Freak Show,” a drag performance followed by a screening of the television program “American Horror Story.” “The bar lets us have it our way. Good staff too.”
Mame is generally quite stylized in handmade garments, mimicking a 1950s pinup girl spliced with a gothic punk. “There are three camps to nightlife–the ‘normal’ people who pay the fabulous people, the ‘club kids’ who are outlandish and over the top, then there’s the glamorous people, like Susanne [Bartsch], who exude money,” she says. “This place kind of defies all of that.”
This defiance is the result of having no budget from the venue for their performances, and no bottle service where liquor is distributed for the guests (compliments of the bar) as higher profile establishments generally offer this to performers or hosts. Rodman and Mame split 10 percent of the bar’s evening earnings and are not charged for drinks. Other performers are paid in cocktails and tips thrown their way on stage. The set and stage are created and orchestrated by what performers bring in, and sometimes guests. Anything goes.
“We’re not exclusively a gay bar, but we’re not exclusively a punk bar. We’re a whatever’s weird bar,” says Randy Mish, bartender at Don Pedro and bar manager.
* * *
Although this stretch of Manhattan Avenue is desolate in the evening, and only lit up by bodegas and streetlights, Don Pedro’s large orange awning and big yellow font seem to magnify the location. The bar is dimly lit with pink and white Christmas lights, and ornamented with novelty signs such as an advertisement for Colt .45 Malt Liquor featuring actor Billy Dee Williams. There’s amateur artwork hanging on the walls that looks like 9th grade interpretations of Keith Haring’s work. A Skee-Ball machine is passed the bar to the right, and the soundstage is on the left.
In front of the soundstage is the main stage, where artists and musicians perform before a lopsided banner that reads “DON PEDRO!” Across from the stage is a photo booth, which doubles as a dressing room for the performers. There is also a burrito stand in the back of the house, called B’klyn Burro, and a “Mystery Train Vintage” thrift store in the basement. When it rains, the already weak ceiling leaks, and at times there are lighting problems during performances. “It’s kind of become a safe space for a lot of people,” Rodman says.
The owner of the building, Medardo Murillo, has little input regarding the comings and goings of the venue, according to Mish, but bar owner Steve Solomon is involved in the bookings. Mish, alongside his counterpart Emily Lesser, says that the staff plays an important role in the activity conducted inside the bar. “This guy, Greg, is our booker, but we refer people too,” Mish said. Lesser then added, in reference to Monday evenings, “It’s Macy, honestly. Both Macy and Mame have an understanding of the world that certain people gravitate toward.”
Rodman said she hadn’t a clue that when she began attending Don Pedro on Monday evenings to watch a screening of RuPaul’s Drag Race, a television reality show about the search for the next drag superstar, she would cultivate such a following. “I never wanted to be ‘a host.’ That world confuses me. I hate promoting myself,” Rodman said. Possessing a certain camp, the bar continues to remain off the radar, but Rodman is frequently asked to host events by the upper tier of New York nightlife, those who fall in the “glamorous” camp that Mame discussed.
“Why does Macy get a lot of attention? She is very tall, very blond, and very beautiful … and I don’t think she cares. She is easily commoditized into what can be mass culture,” says Diane Dwyer, Rodman’s former professor at the Parsons School of Design. “If she cared about that, I think it would ruin Bathsalts.”
The two met about five years ago, and became close after Dwyer attended her first Bathsalts in 2012. Dwyer also said that the low budget trappings, the blurred gender lines of the party, and the feelings of inclusivity all contribute to the ambience of Bathsalts.
“Definitions of gender affect the drag scene. Macy’s drag most of all is duct tape et cetera,” Dywer said. Rodman’s drag is androgynous, and while her face is quite feminine, she mixes her costumes with male and female garments, and tailors her pieces with the use of tape. Both Rodman and Mame identify as males, but when in drag (and sometimes out) use female pronouns.
Gender roles do not apply in this scene. Rodman said that “Macy” was “Jacob” trying to live more comfortably. It so happens that her friends and relatives are accustomed to her drag name; therefore these pronouns persist while she is not in costume. Rodman is referred to as female in the media, but is not opposed to male pronouns. “I’m gender versatile,” she said. “I’m kidding, but I actually just don’t care.”
While Macy may be billed as a mere nightlife persona, her performance is aesthetic. Her ability to satirize anything and her singing voice, which can transform from a whiny soprano to a brash baritone, are her artistic tools. “I know that I will always be able to write something new, style myself differently, or have more insight,” Rodman says. “I am confident in my own capabilities and am not coming from a place of taking ideas from other people. Our goal is not to be contrarian.”
But they stand contrary to the notion that creative souls have stopped coming to New York City to cultivate their madness to further innovation in art and culture.
“If our influence is for people to lighten up and you know, call a spade a spade, then that’s amazing,” says Rodman, now dressed in a tweed women’s blazer and a pencil skirt covering a plastic-wrapped body suit. “If you take away a spirit of lightheartedness, then that’s great.” And then she walks out the door to head for the next show.
Photo and video: Katherine Lloyd.
By ALVARO BLANCO
In the back of a struggling eyeglasses store on Flatbush Avenue, Edgar Henry made call after call as he tried to keep the lid on a rapidly failing business district. For 20 years Henry was the president of the Flatbush Avenue Business Improvement District, leading it through tough times after the fiscal downturn in 2008.
In the last few years, circumstances changed as Flatbush became the focus of millions of dollars of reinvestment. Rents rose, and as a result, Henry’s business, an eyeglass store called E.N.G. Caribbean Vision Center, is set to close in several weeks.
“The rebuilding of Brooklyn with BAM, Atlantic Mall and Barclays Center has caused a lot of closures,” said Henry, feeling the pressure of the new money coming in. “Landlords are greedy. The rent is increasing in this neighborhood, forcing people to move out, leading to the influx of people coming from Manhattan with more money.”
A hub for Caribbean-Americans and other minorities, Flatbush is now attracting young, white, middle-class residents, especially in the areas west of Flatbush Avenue, as the crime rate continues to fall. At the same time, businesses are changing to cater to new tastes, and chain stores are replacing mom-and-pop shops.
Much attention has focused on a renovation project that is changing the landscape of Flatbush Avenue–the rebuilding of the old Loew’s Kings Theatre, which is expected to reopen in 2015.
Kings Theatre, which many consider a Brooklyn landmark, closed in 1977. Once one of the biggest one-screen cinemas of the period, it was forced to close due to competition from new multiplexes and other economic factors.
In 2008, the New York City Economic Development Corp. launched a campaign to restore the theater, with the goal of transforming the unused facility into an economic machine and cultural hub for the neighborhood.
The question for Flatbush is whether the revived Kings Theatre will enhance the local business community or attract chain stores that compete with smaller shops, like the Gap Factory Store going up across the street.
“The reopening of the Kings Theatre will create a new cultural and civic cornerstone for the local community, through the restoration of one of the neighborhood’s most treasured architectural gems,” said Charley Magrew, director of marketing of the Kings Theatre.
A partnership comprised of ACE Theatrical Group, Goldman Sachs Urban Investment Group, United Fund Advisors, and National Development Council says the revived theater will bring in more money to Flatbush through the creation of numerous full-time and part-time jobs. Its plan calls for Kings Theatre to be the venue for more than 200 performances annually.
“We believe the Kings Theatre, along with the continued investment in the community it spurs, will be an asset for everyone here,” Magrew said.
Henry disagrees, seeing it as a contributor to future rent increases for local merchants. “The new theater attracts new business. Gap replaced the Footlocker on the corner. This could be like the new 42nd Street,” he said.
Small business owners feel pushed out by the newcomers, who, they say, will cater to the new arrivals who are buying up houses, not to the people who have lived in the neighborhood for many years.
“Over the last five years rent has increased by 15 percent every year,” said Jamón Martin, owner of a small hair salon on the corner of Tilden and Flatbush avenues.
Commercial rent increases are slowly forcing small business to close and over the last few months about three or four stores have closed per block on Flatbush Avenue , between Church Avenue and Clarendon Road.
In 2013 families making less than $35,000 a year made up 43 percent of Flatbush households, according to U.S. census data. [PM2] Median income is on the decline while median rent increased during the same time. The percentage of income that residents pay for their rent has increased too.
According to Magrew, the rebuilding of the Kings Theatre “has already provided numerous local jobs, and will continue to provide full-time and part-time professional employment opportunities once it opens in January of next year.”
The jobs have been welcomed in the neighborhood, but experts say that the new jobs being created do not necessarily help Flatbush.
“Chain stores keep costs down, pay low wages and have brand-name recognition,” said Alex Vitale, professor of sociology at Brooklyn College “What we have is middle-class business owners being slowly replaced by low-income workers and this only increases inequality.”
As businesses close and homes are bought out, Luis Deschamps, a local resident, said minorities are leaving. “People are moving to the suburbs, like Long Island, where there’s no work and even less money,” he said.
Thomas Angotti, professor of urban affairs at Hunter College, said that small businesses are a bulwark for residents.
“When small businesses are forced to close because of increasing rents, many residents have to travel further to find affordable shopping,” he said.
So how can the community stay together and manage to keep the Flatbush area strong economically?
“People have to go out and vote. They have to sit on community boards, so others don’t come take over,” Henry said. “Community councils collectively with the Business Improvement District have a voice and can control the situation.”
Vitale said that the city has to raise wages in order to protect low-income families from being pushed out.
“The city is taking steps to have a higher minimum wage for contract and city workers. The city could also move subsidies away from Wall Street to more middle-class owned businesses,” he said.
Another way that the city can help the situation is by adding more housing, which will decrease demand and lower residential rent. However, building activity is still substantially lower than before 2008. Rising land prices have made building projects expensive, and only luxury housing is able to afford the upkeep costs, thus reducing the amount of homes low-income families can afford.
“Affordable housing is important. But the federal government has pulled out of the plan leaving the city and state governments to pay the bill and they are simply not able to,” said Vitale.
Policing seems to have improved in the area.
“There has always been a police presence and the BID has its own security too,” Henry said, referring to the Business Improvement District’s services. “That’s why you don’t see graffiti or trash.”
Angotti said the drop in crime, which has continued for the past 20 years, has made Flatbush more appealing to the middle class.
“Before black and Latino neighborhoods gentrify, the police function as occupiers and follow the `broken windows’ approach,” he said. “As a neighborhood gentrifies, they lay back and protect private property.”
Martin says that since the area has changed, drug dealers have moved out and things seem safer.
Those are the changes that make longtime residents want to stay if they can afford to. But Henry notes other changes aren’t welcome—he just hopes the Business Improvement District he labored over for so long will be able to help.
“There’s going to be change I’m not too happy about,” he said. “But the neighborhood will stay because of the BID.”
By INEZ SHARABY
It was a breezy fall night in September when 20-year-old Lorraine Dana was walking to her older sister’s house, ready to enjoy a Jewish new year’s meal with those she loves. She was appreciating the beautiful weather as she waited to cross the street on the corner of Ocean Parkway and Avenue O in Brooklyn when a man in a car stopped, rolled down his window, and began cursing at her.
“Go back to Israel you low-life Jew. Go back to Israel so that Hamas can destroy every last one of you pigs!” Dana said the man, who wore a turban, yelled at her.
Scared and alone, she crossed quickly only to find that the car was following her.
“Because it was Rosh Hashanah I didn’t have my phone on me,” she said. “I couldn’t call the police or anyone for help. I was shaking. It was dark and there weren’t many cars on the street at the time. I was scared for my life.”
Dana realized the smart thing to do would be to run down a one-way street since the man in his car would not be able to follow her there. She ran as fast as she could, hid behind a car and watched as the man made a U-turn. Before he drove off the man yelled, “You will get it one day! Every last one of you!”
Over the past year, the intensifying Israeli-Palestinian conflict in the Middle East has led to more such vitriol on the streets of Brooklyn and other places around the world where Jews and Muslims mingle. The discovery that three Israeli teens were abducted and murdered by members of Hamas; the rockets Hamas fired into Israel from Gaza; the invasion of Gaza that Israel launched in response: All these events sharpened emotions. Anti-Semitic crimes in New York increased sharply, as did bias crimes aimed at Muslims.
Anti-Semitism is a word that describes hostility towards the Jewish people. It was coined by Wilhelm Marr in Berlin in 1879. “Marr invented this word when he was an unemployed journalist,” said Robert Shapiro, a professor of Judaic Studies at Brooklyn College. “He wanted to make a name for opposing Jews, hating Jews, and accusing Jews for all kinds of terrible things but not on a religious basis. So, he decided it should be racist. Since Jews by definition are not `white’–they’re Semites–anything the Jewish people were involved in was considered ‘Semitic.’”
Nearly two-thirds of the the anti-religious hate crimes reported nationally are against Jews, according to the FBI data for 2012, the most recent year available. In New York, the Police Department reports that hate crimes against Jewish people increased as of Sept. 17 from 64 to 89 over the previous year, and from 7 to 17 for Muslims. Assaults against Jews more than doubled from three to eight, and assaults against Muslims shot up from one to six.
According to a study by the Jewish Community Relations Council, as of Sept. 18, 40 percent of all reported hate crimes in the city were anti-Semitic. The study, based on police data, noted that anti-Muslim attacks rose dramatically in 2014, which coincides with ISIS becoming a major news story during July and August. Anti-Muslim incidents made up 8 percent of the reported hate crimes as of Sept. 18. and had increased 143 percent over the previous year. Overall, police counted 17 percent more hate crimes citywide than for the same period in 2013.
Chart from Jewish Community Relations Council shows rise in reported hate crimes.
The Islamic Center of Bay Ridge in Brooklyn was attacked twice during a July weekend. On Friday, July 18, eggs were thrown at elderly worshipers from a group riding by in a car near the mosque. The people of the mosque were attacked again on Sunday when a group of cars displaying Israeli flags circled the mosque as the passengers yelled anti-Islamic slurs.
Police detectives probed anti-Muslim attacks that targeted several mosques, leaving them defaced with slurs.
Similarly in August, as the tensions were high and getting higher in the Middle East, there was an incident that occurred on the streets of Manhattan. Several cars displaying Palestinian flags were stuck in traffic on 63rd Street when the people inside the vehicles noticed a man wearing a yarmulke and a woman sitting beside him. At this moment, some anti-Semitic remarks were yelled at the couple. Eventually, one of the men threw a water bottle at the Jewish woman, while another man got out of his car and punched the Jewish man in the side of his head, witnesses told the police.
In late October and early November, Jewish people became the central victims of the “knockout” game, the name for assaults in which an assailant attempts to knock out an unsuspecting victim, often with a single sucker punch, all for the amusement of the attacker and accomplices.
A 34-year-old Jewish mother of two, who asked not to be identified, said she experienced this on a shopping trip to Brooklyn’s Kings Plaza Mall in October.
Returning to her car in the mall parking lot, she was confronted by three teenagers.
“Out of nowhere these three boys started yelling out racist comments,” she said. “I was the only one around so I knew these anti-Jewish comments were meant for me. They were using such vulgar language it made me turn my head around to see who these people were.”
The woman said that she didn’t know how they knew she was a Jewish woman or why they were screaming at her that way. “I am a trainer and since I came straight from work, I was wearing sweatpants, my leather jacket and my favorite big scarf. I had nothing of value on me,” she said. “I wasn’t even carrying my bag. I didn’t know why they wanted to start with.”
She opened the door to the parking lot and started heading for her car when she noticed it got very silent.
“It was so quiet you would have been able to hear a pin drop. At that moment I knew something was wrong,” she said. “I looked in back of me and I saw those boys were gone, but still something didn’t feel right. I thought to myself, if my intuition is correct and these boys are following me and are ready to attack, if I lead them to my car, that’s it I’m automatically done for.”
She decided the best thing to do was for her to turn around, head back into the mall, and get a security guard to walk her to her car. At the instant she turned around, she was punched so hard in the face that she was knocked to the ground.
“I had a laceration in my head, a broken nose and bruised ribs. When I got back up, I’m not sure how long I was knocked out for, I couldn’t think, the world was spinning,” the woman said. “I looked around to see if those boys were still there but they weren’t. Could their purpose really have been just to punch me in the face and leave?”
Since she was one of the first victims of these attacks, there was no explanation for what had happened that day. She went to the 63rd Precinct to file a report. The police took her back to the place where she had been attacked.
“Just arriving at the mall was giving me a panic attack,” she said. “I didn’t think I could do it and the police couldn’t make any sense out of what had happened to me.”
After a few minutes of standing in the spot where she had been knocked out, she began to have a panic attack and had to leave immediately. The woman went through a voice recognition lineup the following week, but to her dismay, had no luck. She was told that there would be cameras added to the parking lot, to ensure customer safety but it has been confirmed by the mall that no cameras have been added.
“I cannot sleep, I cannot go into parking lots, and I have short term memory loss. I have been a physical trainer for many years but now when I teach my classes I need to do it with the book open. Something I never had to do before,” the woman said. “ When my students tell me certain things I tell them, ‘You’re going to have to remind me again soon because I’m going to forget.’ They think I’m joking with them, and truth is, I wish I was, but I am not. It’s a very difficult thing to live with.”
The woman was not the last victim of this cruel “game.” Two weeks later, seven Jewish people in Crown Heights became victims of it. The victims’ ages varied; one was a 12-year-old boy. After this boy was knocked unconscious and pushed across the sidewalk, “the two attackers ran back to their group and yelled ‘We got him!’ and received a roaring cheer,” said the executive director of the Jewish Future Alliance, Rabbi Yaacov Behrman. “These knockouts were not provoked and nothing was taken from the victims. We are extremely disappointed that no arrests have been made in any of these seven incidents.”
One week after this incident, another occurred. This time the attacker, Amrit Marajh, 28, was caught and charged with a hate crime after he allegedly knocked out a 24-year-old Orthodox Jewish man.
Assemblyman Jim Tedisco (R-Glenville) proposed a bill that would classify the knockout game attacks as gang assaults, and would require that youths who participate in such attacks be tried as adults, facing prison terms of up to 25 years.
“These twisted and cowardly thugs are preying on innocent bystanders and they don’t care if the victims are young, old, a man or woman,” Tedisco said when he announced the bill. “Life isn’t a video game. These are real people whose lives are not only being put in jeopardy but in many cases destroyed.”
Among these violent acts of Jewish hate crimes, other forms of anti-Semitism took place as well. Last May, a former police officer, Michael Setiawan, was charged with an anti-Semitic hate crime. The ex-officer was accused of putting vulgar graffiti messages throughout Borough Park, home to a large Orthodox Jewish community. Setiawan allegedly sprayed swastikas and hate-filled words on the walls of a Jewish school, three other buildings and 15 cars.
Another incident similar to this one occurred to 35-year-old Rini Braha. This past spring Braha woke up one Thursday morning and was ready to drive her kids to school when she discovered that the driver’s side of her car was keyed with swastikas. She called the police and Shomrim, a safety patrol in the Jewish community, to report this case.
“You hear about this in the news and you read about these cases in the newspapers but you never think it can happen to you. I felt violated. My car was parked in my driveway, which means that in order to get to my car whoever did this trespassed onto my property,” she said. “My biggest concern was my four children I had inside.”
Shomrim stayed outside Braha’s house for a month to make sure whoever keyed her car would not come back to do anymore damage. They wanted Braha and her children to feel safe again within the confines of their own home.
Braha said this happened around the same time a swastika was spray painted onto the walls one of the community’s synagogues.
The Jewish people called for protection from these acts of hatred. On Sept. 18, a group of 25 city and state lawmakers and Jewish community leaders urged the de Blasio administration to take stronger action to prevent rising anti-Semitic attacks against the Jewish community and to punish the perpetrators. They spoke at a rally held on the steps of City Hall, where they released police data on hate crimes.
Among these leaders were state Sen. Daniel Squadron (D-Brooklyn Heights), Michael Miller from the Jewish Community Relations Council, Jeff Leb from the Orthodox Union, Comptroller Scott Stringer, Council Speaker Melissa Mark-Viverito (D-Manhattan) and Council members David Greenfield, Mark Treyger, Stephen Levin and Jumaane Williams, all Brooklyn Democrats.
Tempers continued to flare. On Oct. 7, the head of the Brooklyn Young Men’s Hebrew Association was viciously attacked outside the Barclays Center after a game and celebration honoring the Israel Defense Forces. Leonard Petlakh, 42, was inside the arena with his children and friends for the Nets vs. Maccabi Tel Aviv basketball game, when a group tried to disrupt the event by unfurling the Palestinian flag. Nerdeen Kiswani, the Muslim Hunter College student who was holding the flag, asserted that she was punched in the stomach and that her flag was taken away. A video of the incident shows a man snatch the flag and Kiswani say, “He punched me in the stomach.” But no punch is apparent in the video. Petlakh touted the video as proof that he was not involved in the flag-snatching and that the supposed assault on Kiswani didn’t happen.
Ultimately, security kicked both groups out, and the face-off continued outside, according to police. As Petlakh was walking out with his children, video captured several protesters shouting, “Free Palestine,” and “Your people are murderers.” This is when police say Shawn Schraeder allegedly punched Petlakh, who was taken to New York Methodist Hospital in Park Slope for treatment of a broken nose and eight stitches for cuts beneath his eye. Schraeder was charged with assault and harassment.
Faced with the rising number of hate crimes against Jewish and Muslim New Yorkers, Public Advocate Letitia James announced the creation of a task force to investigate the problem further. Comprised of leaders from the Jewish, Muslim, and other faith communities, it will aim to make short term and long-term policy recommendations to prevent hate crimes in New York, especially those targeting the Jewish and Muslim communities.
“Our city belongs to all New Yorkers regardless of which religion they adhere to or whether they affiliate with any religion at all,” James said when she created the task force on Sept. 23. “We stand united in supporting every community in New York and creating a climate that fosters acceptance. The Public Advocate’s Taskforce on Hate Crimes will examine and advance specific action items to address the rise in hate crimes against Muslim and Jewish New Yorkers.”
James said, “New Yorkers will rise above and come together as we always do.”
Photo, top: Rini Braha’s car was defaced with swastikas, one of a growing number of anti-Semitic crimes in Brooklyn this year.
By KACIAH BAILEY
The theme song “Moving On Up” from the Jefferson’s blares through the speakers and resonates throughout the dance studio in the Brooklyn College West Quad building. Its 9:00am on a Monday morning the students are in position and their teacher stands in front of the mirror lined studio, microphone in hand, coaching them through a sequence of twirling and stepping. The students are all laughs and awkward steps as they follow along with the professor who every few minutes stops the music grabs a partner and executes the move correctly as they try to catch on.
This is ballroom dance class, led by Sergei Nabatov, 59, ex-military officer and engineer, turned world-renowned ballroom dancer.
This may seem like an unlikely jump in profession to most, but for Nabatov, now ballroom dance professor at Brooklyn College, that was exactly the turn his career took back in the Ukraine many years ago.
He discovered his love for the art form when at 21 years old, joined a dance club while planning to work in the civil aviation engineering.
“It was the only way to meet some girls,” he said with a laugh. But more than girls he found a passion he would spend the rest of his life pursuing. Although he graduated with a master’s degree in Civil Aviation Engineering from the University of Kiev, he continued to dance and enter competitions, winning his first competition just three years after he first started dancing.
Although at heart he is a dancer he credits his engineer experience as well as his life as a military officer to his success as a ballroom dancer.
“I am blessed to be from a military family.” he says with pride. nike kobe 9 His father was a military officer, and following in their footsteps, his eighteen year old daughter, a freshman at the University of Pittsburgh, is a navy enlisted officer as well. He says the military gave him the discipline and the focus to persevere as a world-renowned dancer. “Ballroom dancing is a hard job,” he says “If you are talented and want to prove it, it will take the rest of your life, practicing at least 6 hours a day to make people like your performance.”
Nabatov acknowledges that ballroom dancing is quite a stretch from engineering, but, for him, the two work together, as his engineering background has contributed to greatly to his ballroom dancing career.
“Half of my brain is an engineer and half is a ballroom dancer,” he said, his slightly Russian accented voice always carrying a hint of laughter. “Many choreographers don’t know how to switch the loud speaker on or the amplifier. But I know. So it helps.”
Not only has his engineer experience helped with his dancing career but it has helped him as a professor as well. He helped design and develop the Apple I Book application for his ballroom course called Dancesport. On the I book app that is required for the class, students can read the related material, hear notes play videos and music, and the lessons for the entire course can be found in the I book.
For Nabatov the change in career move wasn’t a hard choice to make. He says the moment he joined dance club he was sucked in and that is the passion he tries to get his students to feel. His love of dance lead him to choreographing and naturally to teaching the art form which he says gives students the opportunity, like him, to meet different people and connect with others with the same passion.
“Many of my students have found not only dancing, but marriage and kids,” he tells during a sit down in one of his classes on a recent Monday morning. “They meet on the dance floor and get married in the wild,” he added with a laugh.
He created the first ever ballroom dance school in Ukraine, from where famous US Dancesport Champion, Maria Manusova graduated. Then in 2001 he was contacted by a colleague from Fred Astaire’s Dance studio and invited to work in the United States as a dancer and choreographer. He then joined the Brooklyn College teaching staff where he created the first ever ballroom dance course in the college.
Some of his students from Brooklyn college include well known dancers Dmitry Chaplin top ten finalist from So You Think You Can Dance and Maksim Chmerkovsiy professional dancer and finalist on Dancing With the Stars.
Watching Nabatov in action it is not hard to see how his very disparate career moves have culminated in the classroom. He stands in the front of the dance studio, dressed in all black, cotton pants, t-shirt and dance shoes, microphone in hand chanting instructions like ” one.. two.. three.. twirl” or “quick.. quick.. slow arms up two three” to which the students follow suit, reminiscent of a military line drill if one were to ignore all the giggling from the students. He controls the music and equipment while demonstrating dance moves simultaneously yet so effortlessly. And when the giggles and chatter among the students persist or some become distracted, a firm “Listen to me now” gets them all at immediate attention.
He is a balanced combination of discipline and fun, while he knows how to keep the students in line, his rapport with them is affable and comedic. He is hands on with them. He holds them by the shoulders to guide them along, he holds their legs to show them which way to turn, nike kobe 9 elite gs and he holds their hands as he explains the moves to them. And after dancing with them he hugs and thanks them. It is not hard to see his love of ballroom dancing reflected in the way he teaches his students the art of dancing.
From the front of the room he surveys each dance couple. He spots one student not keeping up with the steps and Nabatov playfully yells to the student’s partner “Can you kick him?” the class erupts in laughter as Nabatov runs to the student, fists in the air as if to engage him in a fist fight. Then he shows him to accurately perform the move. Here he is less militaristic, less mechanical and his obvious love of what deems to be an amazing art form prevails.
“He’s very patient and he really teaches you,” says Jean Vernon, a physical education major who enrolled in the class as a requirement for her major. “He makes it so simple, the way he breaks down the steps. If I can do it, you know he’s good,” she adds with a laugh.
Another student Toni Figueroa, a theater major, echoes the same sentiment. “It’s a pretty fun class. And he’s very funny and eccentric. He makes it fun.”
Yet in a melancholy tone he reveals this may possibly be his last semester as a Professor at Brooklyn College after 13 years. “The number 13 is an unlucky number in many countries and it looks like it is. . . this could be it,” Nabatov said. The Physical Education program removed ballroom dancing as a mandatory course and all courses that are not mandatory will be cancelled due to budget constraints. But he remains hopeful that the course will continue under the Liberal Arts department but as of now, that is yet to be decided.
Regardless of the fate of ballroom dancing at Brooklyn College, Nabatov will continue in his work as a professional dancer and adjudicator where he organizes competitions, nationally and internationally for both children and adults. “I’m proud of what I did in Brooklyn College from scratch to this level.” he said.
“Ballroom dancing gave me the chance to be an unbelievably international man in every aspect, ” he said, reflecting on his experience over the years.
Nabatov says dancing has changed his life and is still changing lives all over the world. As proof, he referenced the documentary Hot Mad Ballroom, that depicts the lives of New York pre-teens who turned from gangs and street violence after being introduced to ballroom dance.
And what more proof that it does change lives than his own life–from a career in aviation engineering to professional ballroom dancer and professor.
As if on cue the music comes back on drowning out all chatter in the studio. Nabatov signals to the front of the studio indicating that it its time to resume his dance training. “That’s it,” he says smiling as he waltzes hurriedly to the front of the studio to join his students.
When the music comes on duty, or destiny calls and Nabatov always answers.
By LOVASHNI KHALIKAPRASAD
Cricket, which was first played in New York City in 1844, has now become a growing sport here. As immigrants from the English-speaking Caribbean, Pakistan and India have settled in New York City, cricket games are popping up in parks on warm sunny days in Brooklyn and Queens, where people gather on weekends to play the game, while their families sit back and cheer on their favorite players. If you look closely in neighborhoods like South Ozone Park, Richmond Hill and Hillside in Queens, you will notice two dozen players dressed in uniforms playing the game. For those unfamiliar with the sport, it is eye-catching to see so many people competing in a sport that is not well-known in New York.
Cricket is a bat and ball game, like baseball, played between two teams. But that is where the similarity ends. Each team has 11 players. It is played on an oval field with a rectangular expanse of grass in the center about 66 feet long called “a pitch”. One team bats, while the other team bowls (pitches) and fields. The batting team has two players up at a time, one at each end of the pitch. Both players work in unison to score runs for their teams. A batsman scores a run by hitting the ball with the bat and running towards the opposite end of the pitch and touching the crease (one of several lines dividing up the pitch) with the bat.
The other team has all 11 players on the field. Ten of them field, that is, try to catch the ball before it touches the ground after it is hit by the batsman which strikes him out. Another important way to strike the batsman out is to toss the ball against the wicket, three sticks about 2½ feet tall which stand behind the batsman and which hold two rods (bails) in between them. If the wicket is hit, the bails are dislodged or the batsman knocks against it by mistake, he’s out. The wicket is the like the goalpost in soccer—that’s how important it is.
Every run made by the batting team counts in cricket. It is a chasing game. The goal is to make the most runs in an inning.
“There are more than a hundred cricket teams in New York,” said Sudesh Dhaniram, a professional cricketer who represented the U.S cricket team from 2009-2012. There are seven cricket leagues and each one is diverse, drawing on players from all over the world, particularly from countries that were former British colonies. Dhaniram plays the game both on Saturdays and Sundays. As a former West Indies (international cricketer) batsman, He led Richmond Hill Cricket Team, which plays on Sunday, to its first victory in 2013. On Saturdays he plays for Global Cricket Club, an Indian team based in New Jersey.
“It’s a major entertainment for the Caribbean and Asian people,” said Anil Beharry, the vice president of the Berbice Cricket Board and bank manager of New Building Society in Guyana. Beharry frequently comes to New York to play cricket during the summers.
“The game builds bridges beyond race, culture and creed,” Beharry continued. He said that from his experience, the game is expanding in Brooklyn, Queens, Nassau and Bronx.
“I think the game is becoming popular,” said Mohammad Nazu, captain of the Commonwealth league. “Every year there is a new league,” Nazu, 26 continued. He said that it is a major sport among different groups of people. “It’s slowly getting the attention it needs,” Nazu said.
A number of New York City high schools now have cricket teams, including John Adams, Long Island City, Martin Van Buren, and the High School for Architecture, Engineering and Construction, among others. Last year, the top schools vied for a spot for a chance to be named the ‘Best in the City’ at the third annual NYC Mayor’s Cup Cricket All-Star Games. The NYC Mayor’s Cup series features 11 sporting events. Athletes of all ages from all five boroughs compete year round to prove that they are the city’s best baseball, lacrosse, outdoor track and field, basketball, softball, soccer, wrestling, chess, table tennis, cross country–and cricket players.
New York City has long been an epicenter of sports history. In 1844, the city hosted its first international cricket match between Canada and the U.S. In May, it made its mark in the world’s sports history book by hosting the New York T20 Bash Cricket Tournament.
The tournament lasted from May 2-4. Sixteen teams along with international, national and local players participated in the event. The teams competed for the first prize of $15,000 and the Championship Trophy, sponsored by CricketZone. Competitions that are not as big are usually sponsored by local businesses. For, the Richmond Hill Cricket team, mostly Guyanese businessmen sponsor the players.
“Mostly everybody that plays in the team contributes money to buy gear,” said Nazu in a phone interview. “It’s 80% the individuals who play put money into the game,” he said. Dhaniram added that friends and families support them also. But for competitions that involve prizes over $5,000, the league takes a $2,500 membership fee from each team to buy the awards and uniforms and pay the ground fees.
New York City draws players from all over the world and almost anyone who enjoys the sport can be part of the game. Nazu, born in Bangladesh migrated in 2001 and started to play in 2007. He and his friends started their own team and ended up playing for the Commonwealth League.
After years of playing, he became the captain of his team. “A lot of leadership is involved,” Nazu said. He has to make sure everybody is on the ground on time, guides his players and places the batting and bowling line up. “I like the responsibility,” Nazu said. He was proud to speak of his accomplishments in the game. He was awarded the “man of the match” for one game, best bowler, fielder of the match for another, won trophies and even prize money. On the weekends he plays cricket in New Jersey and Queens and he just graduated from John Jay College with a degree in Criminal Justice.
On Sundays, cricketers play in Baisely Park in Queens and at Flushing Meadows, and sometimes at other parks. The games have been attracting more but not as many as some would like.
“I’ve been playing for a while and the game hasn’t gone anywhere,” said Dhaniram,47, who used to tour with the West Indies to the U.S. since 1995.
But, Nazu would disagree, saying the game is slowly getting there. In Lauderhill, Florida, there is a cricket stadium, called the Central Broward Regional Park and Stadium which hosts cricket games especially 20/20 games, a shorter and more exciting version of cricket. And then there are the burgeoning games here in New York City. So, maybe cricket is making headway in the U.S. after all, and particularly in Brooklyn and Queens.
“I play with different people from different countries, as opposed to Bangladesh where I play with people only from my area,” Nazu said. “It’s a friendly environment,” he added.
By TIFFANY THOMAS
Pushing a shopping cart filled with loads of laundry below the No. 3 elevated train tracks in Brooklyn’s Brownsville section, Anastacia Stanley recalled the first time she saw Bethesda Healing Center, a church designed in the shape of an ark with its name written in bold green letters. Outside the double doors, a line of people stood, waiting to obtain a hot meal and bags of groceries from the church’s monthly food pantry.
“Bethesda has given back to the community in various ways and I’m happy to be a recipient of the greatness that they offer my community,” said Stanley, an 18-year-old student at New York City College of Technology who is pursuing a fashion marketing degree and a resident of Brownsville, one of the city‘s poorest neighborhoods.
Bethesda Healing Center is one of the many churches in Brownsville, nike zoom hyperrev a mostly African- and Caribbean-American community which has 58 churches in 14 denominations, according to Faith-Street, a New York-based organization that helps link people up with a house of worship. A visit to the three churches shows how deeply connected they are to their community, serving as a rock of refuge for many local residents.
In various ways, the three churches on Clarkson Avenue between Remsen Avenue and Rockaway Parkway and others in the neighborhood have played a significant role in efforts to stabilize a troubled community. The churches serve as an incubator for charities, recreation, political organizing, schools and businesses. They have done outreach in hospitals and prisons and donate clothes and food for the indigent.
“People see churches as a refuge both spiritually and physically. They serve as homeless shelters, host soup kitchens and they even take in undocumented immigrants, and politicians use them as platforms to get votes,” said Ken Estey, assistant professor of political science at Brooklyn College and an expert on religion in Brooklyn.
Gail Gilkes, the dean of B.I.B.L.E. College, which is located in Brownsville, said church leaders go to great lengths to assist the marginalized. “Pastors are known to accompany their parishioners on hospital visits, to court cases, graduations and give support during tragedies,” she said. “They provide family services, promote health and well-being and encourage academic excellence.”
With a population of 55,043, Brownsville, in central Brooklyn, is faced with many social problems associated with poverty, including drug addiction and high levels of crime. The neighborhood still has a disturbing number of shootings despite a drop in the crime rate. Frequently, the shootings take place in or near housing projects. Brownsville has the largest concentration of public housing in the nation, comprising one square mile of public housing.
Residents look to their churches for guidance. “It’s nothing but life-changing truths that is taught here by our bishop Dr. Rose,” said Nicola Paige, 26, a member of Bethesda since childhood. “It’s a place of healing and outpouring of love.” During Christmas and Thanksgiving, members of the community are served with a hot meal and are given free clothes and toys, all donated from the church members and local businesses.
Sandwiched between a laundry and an abandoned, gated church on Clarkson Avenue is All Saints Pentecostal Church. In the process of beginning morning worship on a recent Sunday, congregants intermittently entered the pews.
With fewer than 20 people present, the female pastor, clothed in a white dress accessorized with beading, shouted praise as her short body jolted with each statement she made.
All Saints has been serving the community for over 25 years and has a membership of 35. “I think Brooklyn is God-fearing. We fear God and keep his commandments,” Yvonne Salmon, the director of missions affairs, said with a grin on her face as the background music overpowered her soft-spoken voice.
“What we usually do is go out and invite the people of the community to come,” Salmon said. It is an effort her closely knit church family does to help and give back to the community of Brownsville.
“We sometimes get food from outsiders and we package and give them out, we visit the elderly and find out what we can do for them,” Salmon said.
A couple of doors down from All Saints Pentecostal is Clarkson Avenue Church of God, with a mostly Haitian congregation. Its name is written in bold red letters that are above the entrance to the narrow sanctuary, which was secured by white gates. powerlins ii The loud music and the shouts of the occupants bleed through the doors of the red brick building.
“Our mission is to help the church members and the community to transition, mostly immigrants from Haiti,” said Emma Lapointe, the ministries coordinator. The Clarkson Avenue church has seen a growth spurt in its attendance and membership since the 2010 earthquake in Haiti. As a result of that tragedy, a lot of Haitians migrated to the United States.
Clarkson Avenue Church of God was established in 1977 and has a membership of 150 to 200. With a vigorous community outreach, Lapointe and members of the church provide immigration services; identifications, especially for those who migrated to America after the earthquake in Haiti; job assistance; hospital services and translators.
“We have been to the shelters and jails to reach out to the people because the mission of the church is to show God’s love to those that do not normally hear it,” Lapointe said. The ministries coordinator draws to the conclusion that “churches are needed” and that is why there are so many. “People need a place to belong to, it’s a family, we have to be open for them, the church is basically for the community,” Lapointe said as her eyes widened and her curly afro moved in harmony with her gestures.
She recalled periods when the church gave refuge to Haitians who came to America with no place to lodge. “The people gravitate to where suits them, whether it’s immigration, employment or housing,” Lapointe said.
For these small churches, there is a balance. They are devoted to the spiritual enrichment of their membership, sharing their resources with the community through social and moral enlistment.
“Churches have taken the holistic approach to ministry by offering a plethora of services to the community,” Gilkes said. “It is now the norm to find churches offering GED classes, health screening, legal consultations and immigration services.”
Photo: All Saints Pentecostal Church is one of three small churches on one block in Brownsville. (Tiffany Thomas)
Empty bookshelves line the walls at Shakespeare & Co.’s store on Hillel Place and Campus Road. The long-time bookseller found it’s impossible to compete with the digital world. Online retailers like Amazon cut into profits, and E-readers like the Kindle Fire stole eyeballs. Store managers tell Christian Colon, they could not hang on any longer.
The new softball broadcast team at Brooklyn College, organized by Carlos Montanez, hit snags when it went on the air this spring. But volunteers struggled to keep the broadcast team in the game. Marcus Lloyd and Faraz Toor found out why.
Change comes to Franklin Avenue in Brooklyn. It’s not all good. Some think the Crown Heights neighborhood is getting too pricey for long-time African American residents and even newcomers. Gentrification brought real estate speculators, high rents and the disappearance of traditional businesses. Even people at the trendy Franklin Park bar worry. Solmaz Sharif reports.
Egg creams were once a popular drink in New York’s Jewish immigrant communities in candy store soda fountains. But what’s an egg cream? Steve Loffredo investigates what goes into making an egg cream. He says its U-bet syrup, seltzer and milk. He examines why the egg cream is a vanishing drink.
