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Happy Martin Luther King Jr Day!

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The Battle for 227 Abolitionist Place, part two

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In This Fight to Preserve History, Black Lives and Black Landmarks Matter

READ PART ONE HERE

In mid July, the Landmark Preservation Commission of New York City held a public hearing. It took place over Zoom due to the Coronavirus Pandemic. It it had been in person, it would have been a packed room. For nearly three hours, members of the community gave testimony in support of Item 1 on the docket, LP‐2645, also known as the proposal to give landmark status to 227 Duffield Street.

The battle for 227 Duffield Street has been ongoing (a deeper history is chronicled in part one of this series.) During a virtual Landmark Preservation Commission (LPC) meeting at the end of June, the commission calendared 227 for an official hearing on whether it should be given Landmark Status. They then set that hearing for just two weeks later. It may sound fast-moving for those familiar with NY bureaucracy standards. On the other hand, those who have had a stake in this fight might say it took closer to two decades.

In her testimony during the hearing, the Attorney General for New York, Letitia James, said, “I’ve been involved in this effort to preserve 227 Duffield Street,” before stating that the building is “actually known as 227 Abolitionist Place.” As previously reported, Duffield Street was renamed Abolitionist Place in the Fall of 2007 to commemorate the numerous buildings and people on the block active in the anti-slavery movement during the Civil War era. As for 227, the building was the home of two prominent abolitionists named Harriet and Thomas Truesdell, and is long thought to have been part of the Underground Railroad. That same year, the building was saved from demolition when its owner Joy Chatel (lovingly known as “Mama Joy”), narrowly won a court settlement in which the city agreed the property wouldn’t be taken by eminent domain as part of the Downtown Brooklyn Development Plan. However, the LPC’s decision to not landmark the home left it vulnerable for future developers to try the same thing again. And that’s exactly what’s happening now.

So what’s happened between now and 2007?

In 2014, Joy Chatel passed away. A longtime champion of 227 Duffield’s preservation, Chatel was responsible for drawing many activists and organizations to the cause. Leading up to the 2007 settlement, Chatel and Lewis Greenstein— whose property on Duffield Street was also at risk of being seized and was also thought to be part of the Underground Railroad, formed the Duffield Street Block Association. They also connected with the activist group Families United for Racial and Economic Justice.

Of those who spoke during the recent July hearing, few went without mentioning “Mama Joy” Chatel in their testimonies. “She treated me like a son. Her compassion is why I’m here right now,” said Local activist Raul Rothblatt. In her fight to save 227 Duffield, Chatel created a legacy of her own. “I believe her history should be included in the LPC designation of 227 Duffield,” said Rothblatt.

In 2017, Samiel Hanasab, a developer, brought the property under an entity called 227 Duffield Street Corp. And as feared when the building was initially rejected for Landmark Preservation Status, Hanasab applied for a demolition permit in the summer of 2019, citing plans to replace the two-story building with a 13-story mixed-use structure.

Though Chatel was no longer there, the momentum she helped build had not lost steam. Those still dedicated to 227’s preservation held a rally outside of the Landmarks Commission building on Centre Street in Manhattan in August 2019. In a Facebook event, organizers called it an “Emergency Rally” and provided instructions on how to contact Lisa Kersavage, the LPC’s Executive Director. As it Read:

“Tell her:

– Please do not demolish 227 Duffield Street, located in Downtown Brooklyn
– We need to landmark 227 Duffield, because it is well-documented that it was used as a meeting house for the abolitionist movement as well as a stop on the Underground Railroad.
– We strongly believe that the site needs to be turned into a museum to preserve this important historic contribution to the fight against racism in the US.”

Calendaring a building for consideration is the first official step the LPC takes in granting it Landmark Status. The Buildings Department had approved Hanasab’s demolition permits, and the LPC hadn’t calendared the Duffield home. So the sense of urgency was palpable. And the campaign persevered on. A petition was created, a GoFundMe page was set up, and the marches continued.

On February 22 of this year, during Black History Month, activists organized another rally outside the Barclays Center. Together they held a large sign that read, “Black Landmarks Matter,” with the hashtag #Save227Duffield. On May 25, 2020, almost exactly three months later, George Floyd was killed.

In that June meeting that took place over Zoom, the LPC voted on calendaring 227 Duffield Street. The decision to do so was unanimous.

And that led to the July hearing.

Of the dozens of people who spoke and wrote letters, there was one who testified on behalf of Hanasab: His lawyer, Garfield Heslop. Heslop asserted that “no one is more attuned to historical significance of the building as we are” and that “part of the development of the property was the creation of a museum that would honor the legacy of the building.” Rothblatt, however, disagreed, stating that “the new owners have never reached out to any of the historical advocates.” He added, “We have a vibrant community of people willing to save this history and they have not shown any interest in that…as far as I can tell they’ve had contempt.”

The hearing was a monumental step in this story. And, as the outpouring of support it received made evident, one that many have been waiting on for a long time. It was maybe best summated by a man named Michael Henry Adams from Harlem, who was there at the beginning. Adams said, “I’m gratified by the outcome today, finally, after 17 years.” But he didn’t neglect to mention the kind of destruction that can be done when steps aren’t taken to preserve important landmarks in a timely manner. Referencing recent comments made by Mayor de Blasio about systemic racism throughout city departments beyond the Police Department, Adams said he hopes this designation can be an acknowledgement that, “justice delayed is justice denied.”

The timelines of the LPC hearing as it converged with the George Floyd protests was undeniable. “Of course Black lives matter, of course, Black landmarks matters,” Adams said, continuing, “They matter because Black people are not just Black people. We are Americans. we are the people who built this nation and so our history is second to none.”

What it means to be Half-White

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When I first returned to New York to study film at Columbia in 2000, I remember hearing about a Brooklyn based parenting group created for South Asian parents called Mixed Masala. The group included parents who adopted from South Asia as well as parents who had recently emigrated from the subcontinent – the common thread being a desire to raise children within that culture. I decided if I had children in America I wanted to be part of that subculture.

Fast-forward 15 years and I found myself married to a Seattlite and living in Prospect Lefferts Garden. When I go to restaurants and parenting groups in the area, I’m very conscious of the fact that Ananda does not look particularly South Asian. I realize based on my clothing and the vibe I give out that particular day, many people assume I’m his nanny, and I can see their discomfort as to how to refer to our relationship when they ask me questions about him. His skin is not pale, but it’s not dark, and his features, aside from a robust set of hair, do not mimick those of Indian men. It then became even more important to go out of my way to raise my child with as much Indian traditions and culture as I could muster, and my husband was very supportive of this. For me being Indian meant communicating a Buddhist tradition, introducing him early on to Indian music and foods, as well language and place.

[pullquote]How early does one learn privilege and power? How early does one understand racism and discrimination? I’m really not sure[/pullquote]We became close to a few people from the MM group and attended their events. I found a Buddhist Tibetan nanny through a vigorous hunt where I pooled all my listserves together, and for the first year of my son’s life she brought a deep spiritual and cultural nuance to childcare. My mom cooked most of his early solid foods, from daal to idlis (South Asian rice patties), and my husband and I introduced him to spices early. My husband danced bhangra with him, and my friends showered him with Indian clothes. O insisted that my mother only speak to him in our mother tongue and I repeatedly spoke the few words of Hindi I can muster. I’m committed to bringing him to India early on, and for him to be immersed in Indian culture.

I feel good about all of this, at least for now. I resist when people ask how to shorten his 6 letter name and if he has a nickname. I respond that it’s already quite easy to pronounce and only 3 syllables. And I know I unconsciously give him an abundance of kisses and attend many happy hours to make sure everyone knows he’s definitely my son. The plight of bringing up a mixed child is old news, especially in Brooklyn.

What has changed recently is the intensity of the racial climate in America – or perhaps more transparency of a historically existing one. Within the context of the Black Lives Matter movement and the hatred Trump has brought into the American forefront, I now have to learn what it means to raise my son half white.

In the same way that introducing language, spices, and spiritual beliefs early on will impact Ananda’s life down the road, I think that’s important to begin communicating the cultural and political burden of his whiteness. I asked my husband how will we raise him white and he joked and said “consumerism.” Since the dominant culture in America is white culture, we don’t have to go out of our way to raise him white per se, as that’s the default.

But I want to make sure to teach Ananda that whiteness means privilege. It means that he may get scrutinized in airports when people see his hyphenated last name, but not when the police don’t issue him a ticket. I don’t want him to be ashamed of his whiteness, or adopt it too willingly – I want him to understand the deep responsibility to be aware of the political situations of our times, and feel deep compassion and act accordingly. It means understand that being white carries power that he can choose to use wisely, and that how his parents are treated differently is not coincidence.

I wonder how I will teach him these things. It’s not the same as my sing-song voice which hums tunes to calm him during a diaper change, or adding a bit of spicy chutney to his solids. It’s nuanced. How early does one learn privilege and power? How early does one understand racism and discrimination? I’m really not sure. I do know that habit formation happens early on, as does recognition of smells and people, and this is not something that can wait until school to be taught.

What I do know is that there are progressive communities like Mixed Masala and the anti-gentrification movements in Brooklyn to support me as I raise my son. I’ll continue to help navigate my son through the experiences he has when we ride the subway, and we ride it often. And that rooting myself in how my neighborhood is growing may be as important an education as a trip to Bangalore.