julia depinto

Doug Schneider: On Rebuilding & Reform

May 25, 2021 By Julia DePinto Filed Under: Community, Feature Tagged With: doug schneider, election, julia depinto, politics

Meet the Civil Rights Attorney and Democratic Community Leader Running to Represent Brooklyn’s 39^th District

“When people see politicians with children, they often assume that the children are being used as props. For me, bringing them to work is a necessity and a reality,” said Doug Schneider, over the phone. He regularly brings his children to work, including in the political arena. His seven-and-a-half-year-old son is a 1^st grader at PS 107; his daughter is four. Schneider is transparent about the challenges of being a politician and equal caregiver; and, after a year of overseeing remote learning for his son, among countless other pandemic-related complications, he makes a strong case for normalizing children in the workplace— including on the campaign trail.

In the fall of 2020, Doug Schneider, a civil and criminal defense litigator and Democratic District Leader for the 44^th Assembly District, announced his candidacy to represent City Council District 39 in the upcoming Democratic primary election. District 39 includes Park Slope, Gowanus, Carroll Gardens, Columbia Waterfront, Cobble Hill, Windsor Terrace, and portions of Borough Park and Kensington. Schneider joined the primary for term-limited Councilman Brad Lander’s seat, while Lander himself is in the running for City Comptroller. Recently, Schneider’s campaign received the endorsements of 39 community leaders, including support from other District Leaders, PTA leaders, climate activists, worker’s rights advocates, and activists for transportation and street safety.

“As we face a post-pandemic recovery, we need experienced leaders with a proven record of results,” Community Leader, Dorothy Siegel, told Bklyner in a statement. Siegel is the founder of ASD Nest, a community-focused program that specializes in serving the needs of children living with an autism spectrum disorder. Siegel is right— City Council needs an experienced leader with both a history of community leadership and an agenda to ensure a full economic recovery.

In addition to historic economic fallout, the novel coronavirus pandemic exposed some of our nation’s deepest inequalities. In New York City, once the center of the global outbreak, many low-paid workers were forced to continue working in unsafe conditions, without proper PPE or adequate salary. When schools shuttered, women disproportionately left their careers to become full-time caregivers, and now struggle to reclaim footing in the job market. Those from historically underserved communities have experienced the highest rates of eviction, viral infection, and death. For these reasons and more, Schneider is committed to not only rebuilding District 39 but also plans to address the longstanding discrimination that has hindered minority communities.

The focus of Schneider’s campaign platform is: 1) Transportation and Street Safety, including reimagined sidewalks and bike lanes, accessible public transportation, and the expansion of traffic safety enforcement and speed cameras; 2) Economic Recovery for small businesses, women and working parents, and out-of-work New Yorkers; 3) Education, including updated school infrastructure, expanded after-school programs, a pandemic-response taskforce, and substantial investments in higher education; and 4) Constituent Services, providing a broad range of services to constituents, including information on government programs and affordable housing resources, and an expansion of language access at the polls.

Schneider’s ties to Brooklyn—and more specifically, to Park Slope— predate his plans to run for City Council. Though his parents are both from Brooklyn, Schneider and his siblings were raised in New Jersey. After graduating from law school and marrying his wife Joni, the couple decided to settle in South Slope, where they have resided for almost 15 years. Around the time of the 2016 presidential election, Schneider began to consider his run for City Council, as he did not like where the Trump Administration was leading the country.

“I always had an interest in politics but never saw myself as someone who could get elected,” said Schneider. His involvement in volunteering for political campaigns goes back to 1999. After graduating from college, he worked as a congressional aid before attending law school. In recent years, he has served as a Trustee to the Park Slope Civic Council and has previously held a seat on the District Committee for Brad Lander’s participatory budget initiative.

“I saw where things were headed and I didn’t like where they were going. I began to think that I could make a difference,” Schneider said. He thought about the leading issues of the Brooklyn Democratic Party and the need for greater transparency. “I decided to run on issues that were at the forefront because they matched with the things that I have always been passionate about,” he told me. Schneider then shared his lived experiences as a small business owner, attorney, and activist.

Schneider’s law practice focuses on civil and criminal cases, including employment discrimination and business litigation, and occasionally, pro-bono representation for street safety activists. He has worked with clients on cases related to employment discrimination, including a technician who was fired for a disability and a personal assistant who was wrongfully fired for being pregnant while she was on approved maternity leave. Schneider has also represented individuals charged with state and federal crimes, in addition to individuals under investigation by the federal government and the State of New York.

As an experienced attorney and fierce advocate for civil rights issues and criminal justice reform, Schneider is also committed to bringing police reform to City Council by passing legislation to hold officers accountable for misconduct, and reallocating resources to invest in underserved communities.

In July of 2020, after months of school closures across the country, Schneider organized a DOE town hall meeting to discuss NYC’s re-opening plans and devised strategies for creating long-term solutions to safely re-open schools. Subsequently, Schneider organized a protest outside of City Hall in November, demanding that New York City schools stay open. Despite the city’s increasing positive test rate for COVID-19, the positive test rate in schools was under 1%.

“There was a path to doing this effectively, but the plan to fully re-open schools couldn’t be waiting until COVID completely disappeared,” Schneider told me. “We knew that we would eventually get to a point like today, where we are vaccinated, but we had to act before then.” He explained the lag in long-term planning and its negative effect on the mental and emotional health of students.

In addition to the implementation of the Pandemic Response Emergency Plan (PREP), Schneider’s multi-step solution to long-term pandemic planning, he also plans to expand after-school programs, restore arts curriculum, and address the longstanding racial divides within New York City’s school system. Schneider has pledged to end the school-to-prison pipeline by replacing law enforcement with social workers and mental health professionals.

I asked Schneider how he and his family were managing to recover after a year of such intense devastation.

Quietly, I wondered how a politician like Doug Schneider—with his extraordinary record of experienced leadership and Herculean efforts to rebuild his community— was able to hold down a day job AND be an equal caregiver. His answer was remarkably, human. He told me that his family survived in 2020. They continued to persist one day at a time— albeit still adjusting and still making mistakes, like “too much screen-time on some days.”

“We have to forgive ourselves for our mistakes made during the pandemic that allowed us to get by,” he told me. “New Yorkers are resilient and communal […] and we all did what we had to do to survive.”

Reflections on Art, Denial, Global Pandemics, and a Cross-Country Move

May 2, 2021 By Julia DePinto Filed Under: Feature, Pandemic Diaries Tagged With: julia depinto, pandemic diary

Author Julia DePinto in Southern Califorrnia

Editor’s Note:

When my editor asked me to write about my experiences living in Brooklyn, when the novel coronavirus first hit the city— and then my subsequent move to Southern California, just as the virus and the wildfires were beginning their assaults here— I obliged, without hesitation. I had moved to the Los Angeles area over the summer, right as NYC’s economy was reopening and mass protests against police violence were sweeping the country. California was great at first; the mountains and ocean provided a likely source of comfort, and COVID-19 cases were on the decline. But then the fires happened, and then the infection rate skyrocketed, and suddenly we were back to a partial shutdown with more forced isolation. It felt all too familiar to life in NYC last spring.

Writing about the events of the past year has been a catharsis for me. I look back at the photos of empty park benches and deserted streets with a deep appreciation for the beauty of the city and the resilience of New Yorkers. Those were difficult months and some facets, like the makeshift trailer cemetery in Sunset Park, will haunt me for a long time. But like my friend Jen said, after the wildfires finally quelled, “Nature has an incredible way of healing and rebounding.” I think the same is true of people.

It was Monday, March 9, 2020, and I was sitting in the basement of the printshop scrolling through emails and news updates on my iPhone. Ink covered my fingertips and stained my skin. I didn’t care. I was still reveling in nostalgia from the weekend. It was one of the best weekends of my life. It sounds cliché, but it’s the truth. I lived for the New York art fairs! The Armory Show, SPRING/BREAK, VOLTA, Moving Image— I looked forward to the spring shows every year. The day before, I toured Art on Paper at Pier 36 in the LES. A friend had given me VIP tickets.

I met up with friends later in the afternoon. We drank coffee and walked along the Brooklyn Heights Promenade. We discussed the art world, our pets, our families, and our careers. We joked about our exes and thought about the nuances of life. It was sunny and warm for a New York day in early March. I held their baby close to my chest as we walked. I was entirely ignorant of her world and to how soon the scope of her world— and our world— would change.

“Fuck,” I mouthed to myself. BREAKING NEWS: Several East Coast Universities Cancel Classes in Coronavirus Response. I put my phone down on my lap and buried my face in my ink-stained hands.

The printshop smelled of paint thinners and chemicals. The air was dank. I was starting to feel nauseated from the fumes. What did it mean that colleges all around the city were canceling classes? Was this the beginning of a lockdown? No, they’re just following protocol, I thought. This is temporary.

I stood up to stretch, and to get back to work. I put my phone in my back pocket and headed up the stairs. At that moment, my phone vibrated with a text message from my husband, Matthew:

“Our lab is closing, indefinitely. I have an hour to pack up my office and leave the building.”

Indefinitely sounded exaggerated. I was sure he meant a week or two—at least I had hoped it wouldn’t be longer than that. Our apartment was already crowded enough.

I looked around the printshop, suddenly aware of how quiet it was. Everyone had gone home for the day. It occurred to me that maybe the printshop would also close. In which case, I would have to call my students to postpone our sessions for a few weeks. Maybe I should head home, I thought. My throat was itchy and I had developed a mild cough, on top of chemically-provoked nausea. Allergies. Yes, that is it—allergies. I always get a bit of a cough when the seasons change.

Later that night, I texted my cousins to ask if anyone had heard from our extended family in Bari, Italy.

Two days later, I noticed my cough was getting worse. It was allergies— and maybe stress. I had convinced myself of that.

“Julia, you should really call your doctor,” said my friend with the baby.

My dog and I were walking around Prospect Park when she called. I was happy to hear her voice, despite her concerns about my health. Should I call my doctor? No, I’m fine, I thought. I’ll pick up cough syrup in the morning. Maybe if I tell her I’m drinking cough syrup then she’ll stop worrying about me.

The next day I walked to the bodega on 8th Avenue and asked the owner if she had any cough syrup. I was too focused on her breath to hear her words. I could feel it circle in the air. I pictured infected and microscopic droplets touching my face. My heart began to race as the panic set in. I stepped back, thanked her anyway, and wished her a good day. I’ve always liked her.

I called my doctor from the corner of 7th Ave., outside of the fourth bodega of the day. I assured him I didn’t have COVID but I really needed cough syrup. I couldn’t find it anywhere. The hoarders of Park Slope had planned for this. He addressed me gently as if I were about to receive life-altering news. He ignored my self-diagnosis of allergies and recommended that I pick up the prescriptions immediately and take them as directed until the bottles ran out. He also suggested that I self-quarantine and use an inhaler—“just in case.” We both knew that getting a COVID test was a nearly impossible feat.

The next day, word got around that some of my colleagues were sick with COVID-like symptoms. It’s a good thing I was laid off, I thought. Matthew and I were going over our finances. I could tell he was stressed. He assured me his job was secure but I was skeptical. We both knew that my loss of income would drain our savings. In times of skepticism and uncertainty, I’ve found that it’s helpful to make lists of gratitudes and to recite them as mantras.

We are safe. We are healthy. We are blessed.

New worries involving probable state mandates and rumors of forced isolation began to culminate in the media. Fears of de Blasio shuttering the bridges and quarantining the city were circulating and had reached the ears of most New Yorkers. Upon learning this news, Matthew decided we should shelter in place with his family, in a small suburb north of Boston. We would share his mother’s one-bedroom apartment. He decided that we would sleep on the floor, and I would work on my art in her living room.

I refused. Brooklyn was my home. If the virus was going to ravage and decimate the city for a few weeks, or maybe a month, I would be there to see it through. This couldn’t last forever, could it?

The disagreement continued for hours.

Cigarette butts began to collect in a defaced olive jar on our back porch. Throughout the week, I reminded Matthew that the CDC recognized smokers as “high-risk” and vulnerable to respiratory illnesses. “You really need to take Chantix,” I said.

My friend with the baby told me to go easy on him. “This is a stressful time for everyone,” she said.

I had convinced myself that this was all temporary. I would take this time to work in my studio and continue developing my visual arts practice. If I am forced to stay in Brooklyn, I should at least be productive, I thought. This can’t last forever. I will be back at work soon enough.

That day I sat in my studio, surrounded by my work, and cried. My art, which is largely autobiographical, was not important. People were dying.

The laundromat that I had used regularly for two years was closed. I worried about the owners, two brothers. I hoped they had closed for personal reasons unrelated to the pandemic. Our Federal Government has failed to protect essential workers, I thought.

. . .

It was April 12, Easter Sunday. This day means everything to my family but nothing to me. I walked home from my art studio, up to 18th street to 7th Ave. A cop rode past on a motorcycle, slowing down at the four-way stop. He flashed his lights to stop the cars approaching him. Behind him was a black Cadillac hearse with a purple flag that read funeral. There was no congregation of mourning family; no church bells; no priest. The body would likely be buried alone. I wondered if the unlucky person passed away in isolation. I imagined that the body inside of the hearse belonged to an older man— a man with a bald head and a full beard. I prayed for his soul to reach others, somewhere in another realm, far away from Brooklyn.

I called my Dad to wish him a Happy Easter and to tell him that I missed him. Physically, I was healthy, somehow, but mentally, I was slowly falling apart. The isolation, the economic fallout, the burials on Hart Island, the nonstop news updates— COVID was consuming all of my time. It was the first thing I read about in the mornings and the last thing I would consider at night. I was hardly sleeping in those days. Small moments of solitude were infamously interrupted by the sounds of ambulance sirens.

“Dad, can you hear that?” I asked. The NYPD was looping around the park with a megaphone, blasting prerecorded messages at park-goers to “wear a mask” and “stay at a six-foot distance.”

“This feels like… Communism,” I said. As soon as the word Communism rolled off my tongue, I regretted it.

“This is not what Communism is like,” said my Dad, apathetic to my misery and inherent privilege. He reminded me that his parents and siblings lived through the Mussolini regime in Bari. My dad was born a year after the war ended. “You kids have it so much better than we did.”

A month later, police officers arrested a young Black mother at the Atlantic Avenue-Barclays Center Station for not wearing her mask properly. The encounter ended in a violent assault.

We gave our landlord a 30-day notice on May 1st. Our lease was up and he refused to let us continue renting month-to-month, despite the city’s high-infection rate and the eviction moratorium. Maybe this will be good for us, I thought. Matthew had accepted a job offer in Southern California.

. . .

The 7:00 pm cheers for medical frontlines and essential workers kept me going. I looked forward to them every night and made an effort not to miss them. But tonight I was cheering quietly. I was carrying home groceries and didn’t want the bags to touch the ground. I listened to the sounds of applause, and the car horns, and the homemade instruments, while consequently walking past the trailer morgues on 7th Ave. Holding my breath, I peered through the gate. The morgue workers were outside. This can only mean one thing, I thought.

I don’t think I will ever be able to expunge the horror that the images of those trucks brought to the city or me personally. Coming back from that hellscape seemed [and sometimes, still seems] unimaginable.

It was the end of May and the moving truck had come and gone. We cuddled up in blankets and sleeping bags on the hardwood floor of our apartment. The sounds of police sirens were aggressive, and we heard helicopters circling overhead. We knew they were headed towards Barclays. We laid awake in silence for most of the night. I prayed for the safety of the protestors.

The next morning we packed up our Jeep and left the city. The dogs were in the back, wedged between suitcases and sleeping bags. We drove over the Verrazano Bridge to Staten Island and through Jersey. I thought about the past few months and all of the loss the city endured. It would take time, maybe years, but the city would heal. Nature has a way of rebounding after wildfires devastate the land; and so would NYC. I would miss Brooklyn and the life I had created, but I was eager to get to California. The state’s economy was in the early stages of reopening and the infection rate in Los Angeles was on the decline.

Los Angeles has a great art scene, I thought. How delightful it was to be so naïve.

Art and the City: Public Art Unveils Controversy in the City

February 10, 2021 By Julia DePinto Filed Under: Community, Feature Tagged With: Art, city, feminist movement, julia depinto

Giancarlo Biagi & Jill Burkee-Biagi, Mother Cabrini Memorial (2020), bronze.
Image courtesy of the Office of Governor Andrew Cuomo.

To most, public art may seem innocuous. Art brings vitality to public spaces. It helps districts establish identities, provides artists with income, and boosts local economies by providing sought-after destinations for art lovers. And perhaps more importantly, public art provides an opportune backdrop for tourists and selfie enthusiasts. However, for New Yorkers who are especially inundated with public artworks ranging from historical tablets and monuments in public parks to contemporary works, like Jeff Koon’s colossal Balloon Flower and Jenny Holzer’s impermanent text-based projections, the relationship between the public and art is not always positive.

Public art is rarely considered by art critics to be “good” art. Seldom does it arrive without a myriad of complications. Aside from often being overly symbolic or kitsch, public art is largely taxpayer-funded, governed by private capital, and decided on by a panel of bureaucrats.

In 2020, the city planned, commissioned, and installed dozens of public sculptures, installations, murals, and artworks. Below are three of the most recent public sculptures to be unveiled, all of which were met with varying degrees of controversy.

Mother Cabrini Memorial

Giancarlo Biagi & Jill Burkee-Biagi (2020)

A bronze and granite memorial honoring the life and service of St. Francis Xavier Cabrini, the Patron Saint of Immigrants, was recently erected in Manhattan’s Battery Park City. Cabrini, more commonly referred to as Mother Cabrini, an Italian immigrant and devoted public servant, founded over 60 schools, orphanages, and hospitals, including numerous academic and health care institutions in New York City. She was the first naturalized American to be canonized by the Roman Catholic Church, nearly three decades after her death. Although Cabrini’s legacy parallels the valor and perseverance of many immigrant communities, the memorial was heavily disputed by the public and follows a contentious stint of bureaucratic conflict between New York’s city and state governments.

“We are all immigrants in one way or another. We all share the immigrant experience,” said Italian-American artist, Giancarlo Biagi in an interview.

Biagi and collaborator, Jill Burkee-Biagi, were selected by the Governor Cuomo-appointed commission to complete the Cabrini memorial—budgeted at $750,000— in a remarkable nine months. The life-size bronze monument atop a marble base depicts a young Cabrini and two small children in a paper boat, gazing ahead into a distant future. It stands erect in a cove along the esplanade and against a backdrop of Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. The commemorative memorial is filled with metaphor, perpetuating collective immigrant experiences of hope and new horizons, while also containing small anecdotes of Cabrini’s mortality. The plaza is surrounded by mosaic, created from bits of riverbed stone near Cabrini’s birthplace in Sant’Angelo Lodigiano. The memorial was unveiled on Columbus Day and dedicated by the New York Governor.

The controversy of the Cabrini memorial—as with most memorials—lies within the boundaries of taxpayer-funded public art, the site-specificity of the artwork, and how the overall content and design are determined. In 2018, First Lady Chirlane McCray, Deputy Mayor Alicia Glen, and the Department of Cultural Affairs announced the She Built NYC initiative, a project focused on funding public monuments and artworks to honor women’s history. The initiative builds on the recommendations of the Mayoral Advisory Commission on City Art, Monuments, and Markers— a commission that advises the NYC Mayor on issues surrounding public artworks and markers on City-owned property. An advisory panel, appointed by the de Blasio Administration, was founded to oversee the commission of large-scale commemorative statues of revolutionary women— including women of color, trans women, and non-binary individuals— to address the disparate gender imbalances in public spaces. The Department of Cultural Affairs committed to a budget of up to $10 million over the next four years.

The She Built NYC initiative, spearheaded by McCray, accepted public nominations via an online survey, receiving close to 2,000 responses in total. Although the submissions overwhelmingly favored a memorial honoring the legacy of Mother Cabrini, the panel disregarded the majority, sparking outrage among Italian-American and Catholic communities. In response to the outcry, the governor announced his administration’s plans to work with local Italian-American groups and the Diocese of Brooklyn to oversee the creation of a state-funded memorial to Cabrini.

The pandemic has indefinitely shelved the She Built NYC project.

Italian-American and Catholic communities applauded the decision to erect the Cabrini monument, however residents of the southernmost district of Manhattan disapproved— arguing that Cabrini had little involvement with the region. The Mother Cabrini Memorial Commission was able to bypass political disputes and reject public concerns for building the monument in Battery Park City— an area that is owned and controlled by a state corporation. In the long-term, taxpayers and residents of Battery Park City will continue to pay upkeep on an ever-increasing collection of public artworks, jointly valued at $63 million.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg Memorial

Gillie & Marc (forthcoming)

The nation is still mourning the untimely death of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. The announcement of her death, less than two months before the divisive 2020 election, was met with an outpouring of public grief for the beloved civil rights attorney and gender equality advocate. On the steps of the Supreme Court building in DC, mourners left makeshift memorials with handwritten notes, flower bouquets, and votive candles; public gatherings and candle-lit vigils were held in cities all over the country. The following day, Governor Andrew Cuomo announced in a tweet that the state plans to honor the life and legacy of Justice Ginsburg by erecting a permanent statue in her native Brooklyn.

Less than a month later, the governor appointed a 23-member commission to oversee the design and location of the memorial, including members of Ginsburg’s family. NYC Mayor Bill de Blasio also announced plans to rename the Brooklyn Municipal Building in honor of the late Justice.

Officials at City Point, a residential and commercial development in Brooklyn’s metropolitan center, said that the monument will be unveiled on March 15, 2021, coinciding with both Women’s History Month and Justice Ginsburg’s 88th birthday. The bronze statue, created by artist duo Gillie and Marc, was originally built in partnership with Statues for Equality, whose initiative aims to balance the gender, racial, and ethnic disparities of public sculpture. The artists believe that installing statues of women in public spaces are major steps forward in the long-overdue fight for gender representation.

Unlike the Mother Cabrini memorial, New Yorkers have mostly welcomed the forthcoming and permanent iconic statue of Justice Ginsburg. There has been little, if any, protest from the public regarding the budget of the memorial or upkeep. However, some in the art world wonder if the traditional solution of building a larger-than-life statue atop a pedestal is the best approach to memorializing the legacy of the adored American figure. Jerry Saltz, Senior Art Critic for New York Magazine, attributes “bad” and “generic” public sculpture to the bureaucratic systems that have long dictated public art— including the commissions composed of politicians, life-long political advisors, architects, and real-estate developers.

“One way to avoid this,” Saltz said, “is to, first of all, get a group of women together. I think you do not want the governor and another batch of male-whatever-politicians big-fucking-footing this thing around. [They should] just shut up and listen. Because to me, the monument to Ginsburg is not only a monument to Ginsburg; it is a monument to one of the greatest liberation movements in this country, which of course is feminism.”

Medusa with the Head of Perseus

Luciano Garbati (2008-2020)

One of the most controversial public sculptures of recent memory is Luciano Garbati’s, Medusa with the Head of Perseus. The seven-foot bronze sculpture of an unclothed Medusa reimagines the Greek myth by shifting the narrative of the myth to the perspective of Medusa while positioning the physical sculpture in the context of the #MeToo movement. Smooth and cold to the touch, but resolute and distinguished, Medusa gazes out above a sea of passersby. She is installed in Manhattan’s Collective Park Pond, across from the New York County Criminal Court where the Harvey Weinstein trials commenced.

The sculpture is inspired by Benvenuto Cellini’s 16th-century bronze masterpiece, Perseus with the Head of Medusa. As Greek Mythology recounts, Medusa was once a beautiful maiden whose appearance was transformed after she was stalked and raped by the sea god, Poseidon in Athena’s temple. As punishment for “breaking” the vow of celibacy, Athena turned Medusa’s hair into a tangle of snakes and cursed her with a gaze powerful enough to petrify men. Perseus, son of Zeus and Danäe, murders Medusa in her sleep. He holds her severed head in an upright, trophy-like position— weaponizing it to turn his enemies to stone. Cellini’s statue and Greek Mythology shame Medusa for being a victim of rape. The Argentine- Italian sculptor’s interpretation, Medusa with the Head of Perseus, flips the context, giving the power back to Medusa and victims of sexual assault.

At the mid-October unveiling, Garbati spoke of the women who had written to him, viewing the sculpture as catharsis. The artwork, created in 2008, has materialized into an artist-led project first conceived by Bek Andersen, called MWTH (Medusa With The Head – pronounced “myth”). Andersen contacted Garbati after the image went viral. Together, the two applied to NYC Parks’ program, Art in the Parks.

MWTH engages the narrative habits of classical imaginaries of the past, present, and future, and sells miniature replicas and agitprop of Garbati’s, Medusa. A small portion of the proceeds goes to the National Women’s Law Center.

Although the sculpture reimagines the myth by shifting the power to women—an act that is seemingly well-intentioned and fits into the narrative of feminist ideals— the artwork has been met with a deluge of controversy. For one, the sculpture predates the birth of the #MeToo movement by nearly a decade. Secondly, #MeToo was created by Tarana J. Burke, a Black activist from the Bronx. In a post, Burke wrote: “This monument may mean something to some folks, but it is NOT representative of the work that we do or anything we stand for.” In Garbati’s vision of Medusa, the Gorgon unrelentingly grips the severed head of Perseus and not the head of Poseidon, her rapist. This may be an act of irrefutable violence but artistically, it is not a radical political act. [Violence in art is nothing new.] The emphasis on violence and revenge in Garbati’s narrative conflicts with the entirety of the #MeToo movement. “This isn’t the kind of symbolism that this Movement needs,” wrote Burke.

The decision to erect Garbati’s Medusa is a classic example of a missed opportunity for minority representation that the City [and the art world] will continue to perpetuate. Instead, the City chose an artwork with a message created by a man, depicting a naked woman with an idealized muscular physique, Euro-centric features, and shaved genitalia.

A redeeming quality of Medusa with the Head of Perseus is that it is temporary. Until her removal, Medusa will stand indignant, across the street from a criminal courthouse, reminding the public that through millennia women who are sexually assaulted are likely to be blamed.

The Earth is Life, and the Land is our Home: Lenapehoking and its Original Inhabitants

October 12, 2020 By Julia DePinto Filed Under: Feature, Outside Tagged With: julia depinto, Prospect Park

If you live in Brooklyn, there is a decent chance you have been to Prospect Park. It is a natural sanctuary of sweeping vales, luminous ponds, dense woodlands, and dedicated athletes. The urban park embraces socialization, from large family gatherings and cultural celebrations to sponsored festivals and outdoor concerts. It does not separate society by race or class, nor age, gender, or ethnicity.

The land, as it sits today, is accessible year-round and available for people of all demographics to use. The landscape provides a public space for quiet moments of solitude and self-reflection—while providing a refuge from the noise, hustle, grime, and smell of uncollected waste that permeate in the city. For me, the park was where I found comfort during the height of the novel coronavirus pandemic. With the widespread closures of most public spaces, and the condemnation of physical interaction and public gathering, my options for finding connections were limited. Connecting to “nature” was my safest option, even if that meant connecting to the highly stylized and well-manicured topography of Prospect Park.

“We have a tendency to want to separate our home from inside and outside,” said Hadrien Coumans, after I explained my desire to find a connection to the natural world, rather than connection through physical or civic engagement. Coumans, an adopted member of the White Turkey-Fugate family, is the co-founder and co-director of the Manhattan-based cultural organization, the Lenape Center. “The reality is that we are completely inside of our home, even when we think we are outside of our home. The earth is life, and the land is our home.” Coumans paused for a few moments before adding: “This—the reality that you’re describing— is what the Lenape people have always been acutely aware of.”

Historical tablets, erected monuments, triumphal arches, and public artworks are dispersed throughout Prospect Park’s 585-acre oasis, honoring the people and events that have shaped and cultivated the city and community. But the history of Prospect Park—as well as the history of New York City and largely, North America—is complex. For centuries, history has been negotiated, slanted, and erased. A subtle reminder of the area’s indigenous people recently became visible. A handmade Lenape-themed placard, acknowledging rightful land-ownership, is pasted to a bronze and granite marker, commemorating Battle Pass.

Long before European colonization, revolutionary battles, and the reshaping of Prospect Park’s rugged topography, lived the Lenape, part of the Algonquin nation, and Lenapehoking, the land they occupied. The Lenape, also called Lenni-Lenape—translating to “Original People” and later renamed by European colonizers to Delaware— are a loosely organized band of Native Americans whose tribal roots have sunk deep into the landscape of today’s New York City for more than 10,000 years. The ancestral land of Lenapehoking spans from eastern Pennsylvania to a small part of western Connecticut, and from the Hudson Valley to northern Delaware. Manahatta island meaning “hilly island,” known today as Manhattan, is at the crux of Lenapehoking. Although the Lenape are remembered for being tenacious warriors, they are also regarded for being peacemakers, earning the title of “Grandfather” tribe.

The Lenape’s origin story begins when a great tortoise, symbolic of the earth, rose from the water and became dry. A tree grew in the middle of the earth, and brought forth a man and later a woman. The phratry clans of the Lenape, which traced their descent through the female line, included three tribal divisions determined by language and location: Wolf (Munsee), Turtle (Unami), and Turkey (Unalachtigo). As a nomadic hunter-gather society, the ancestral Lenape heavily depended on the prosperity of the land. Every ten to twelve years, after depleting the geographical location of its natural resources, the entire village would migrate to a neighboring area of Lenapehoking. Thus, allowing the land to replenish itself for future generations.

European explorers arrived in the 16th century, with Italian explorer, Giovanni da Verrazano, leading the sail into the New York Harbor. According to some historical records, the Lenape, at first, welcomed the European explorers. They shared the land and resources and soon embraced the act of trade. By the 17th century, European corporations, including the Dutch West India Company, had materialized on the wealth of Lenapehoking and exploited the indigenous peoples. They entered into deceptive land deals, and in 1626, the Lenape “sold” the island of Manahatta to the Dutch. The concept of land-ownership was foreign to the Lenape, who believed that the earth and all of its inhabitants could only belong to the Creator. This particular land transaction, enforced with a constructed barrier wall around “New Amsterdam,” marked the downfall of Lenape society and the beginning of the diaspora. Traditional life for the Lenape was interrupted by the loss of land and the expansion of trade, creating a dependence on over-hunting and leading to a scarcity of resources and cultural value. The colonizers, bringing with them an array of deadly diseases, treated the Lenape as if they were uncivilized and disposable. They devastated the Lenape’s cultural identity and ancestral grounds through cultural assimilation —including involuntary Christian indoctrination— warfare, genocide, illegal land trades, and forced migration. Some accounts suggest that by 1750, the Lenape lost an estimated 90% of its people. The remaining Lenape succumbed to displacement, traveling west to current-day Ohio, and north to today’s New York State and Canada.

While the Lenape are credited with influencing the history and geography of present-day New York City and surrounding areas, an intentional banishing of their identity —perpetuated by centuries of cultural whitewashing, forced removal, and genocide—have conspired to erase public knowledge of the tribe and their long presence with the ancestral homeland.

“The erasure has caused a void, particularly to public knowledge and the understanding of the Lenape people,” said Hadrien Coumans. “Until recently, there was no consciousness of recognition that was recognizable.”

Over a decade ago, Coumans was standing with Joe Baker, member of the federally recognized tribe, Delaware Tribe of Indians, on the Upper East Side. As the two men gazed out onto their ancestral homeland, they experienced a collective and ominous feeling that the Lenape people were facing permanent erasure from public memory. Coumans and Baker pondered how they could preserve their cultural identity and homeland for future generations.

“We wanted to create a center that would continue our presence and be a welcoming home for the diaspora,” said Coumans. “This experience led to an urgency to continue the Lenape culture and identity.” Consequently, in 2008, the Lenape Center was born.

The mission of the Lenape Center is to continue the culture of the Lenape and Lenapehoking through the arts, humanities, and environmental conservancy. Bringing public awareness of the Lenape presence to mainstream culture enables descendants of the diaspora to fight back against centuries of exploitation, manipulation, and erasure. Their work includes planting indigenous corn in community gardens; convening with the Brooklyn Museum to create a permanent art installation; staging an opera on the Lenape perspective of the historically misrepresented purchase of Manahatta; consulting with the architects of Tammany Hall’s turtle shell dome— symbolic of the Lenape origin story and Chief Tamanend—and an “iconic anchor to Union Square”; and finally, the organization seeks to return the “presence of consciousness” to the homeland by establishing government-to-government relations, including access to New York City’s resources, and a Living Land Acknowledgement. The acknowledgment, usually in the form of a public statement or plaque, is a simple gesture of respectfully bringing awareness and true inclusion to the indigenous inhabitants that have been deprived of their ancestral homeland and territories. Many of these territories are now occupied by physical institutions, including venues, real estate developments, schools, conference centers, stadiums, and places of worship. A Living Land Acknowledgement also attempts to correct racism— including the indigenous caricature embedded in the New York City seal— and the practices that, for centuries, have contributed to the erasure of the native people’s history, culture, and identity.

As of today, two commemorative memorials exist in New York City, acknowledging the legacy of the Lenape. Both of the memorials contain historical inaccuracies. In recent years, Columbia University dedicated a plaque to honor the Lenape people for occupying the territory of today’s Manhattan, before the colonization of the Americas.

Present-day descendants of the Lenape are federally recognized as “Delaware” and include members of Delaware Nation, Delaware Tribe of Indians, and Stockbridge-Munsee Community. While some smaller bands of the Lenape descendants still live in the NYC and the Northeast, many of the Lenape/ Delaware live in one of the five sovereign nations with full federal recognition, including one nation in Wisconsin, two in Oklahoma, and two in Ontario, Canada.

In March, when the pandemic hit New York City and much of the country, the Lenape Center decided to indefinitely cancel all public events. “This is a time to hibernate not a time to gather,” said Coumans. He noted that the Center’s virtual meetings and ongoing events, including the production of a documentary on indigenous corn, have been well received.

I asked Coumans about the connection between environmentalism and the novel coronavirus pandemic. I wondered if he believed there was, if any, a silver lining to the disruption and widespread devastation that New York City has faced.

“Well,” said Coumans, “the reality is that Lenapehoking or not, we cannot exist without trees or water or oxygen. These are the life-giving properties of the earth. We have to be respectful of nature to breathe fresh air.” He paused before adding: “I do hope the city continues to heal from the pandemic, and that we’ll all come away with a better knowledge of our environment.”

We recommend that you educate yourself and if interested and able, get involved with the Lenape community. Their website explains more about the history and influence of the original “Brooklyn” people.

www.thelenapecenter.com

Editor’s note: In recent months, as nationwide protests against racial injustices and weaponized police violence have swept our country, we have seen a historic push to acknowledge the complexities of the past and to include the —often negotiated and intentionally erased—truths that affect our present.

When I first became aware of the Lenape-themed placard atop the bronze and granite Battle Pass monument, I was immediately reminded of the brazen distortions, nods to conspiracies, arrogant lies sold as irrefutable truths, and chants of greatness, all touted by President Trump. But for one to see our country as great means that we have to side with the version of history written on the Battle Pass plaque, and not with the history of the Lenape-themed card. When we question the actions of the past, to better understand the truth, we are reminded that the definition of great is conditional and tethered to a reality that has been slanted. The pasted Lenape-themed placard juxtaposed the Battle Pass marker underscores the thickness of Brooklyn’s history while bringing into our collective consciousness the indigenous nations that New York City has long overlooked.

Adem Bunkeddeko: Offering Structural Change to NY-9

June 21, 2020 By Julia DePinto Filed Under: Community, Reader Profile Tagged With: adem bunkeddeko, julia depinto

While the worst of the pandemic is arguably behind us and the long road to economic recovery lies ahead, recent weeks have brought on new challenges and calls for immediate systemic and structural change. Tens of thousands of New Yorkers have taken to the streets each day to protest police brutality, lack of law enforcement accountability, and the fundamental discriminatory and racist systems that have targeted and hindered Black communities.

Now that the pandemic-disrupted Primary Election is only a day away, some New Yorkers are turning to new faces to create the structural change desperately needed in our country. For those living in Central Brooklyn’s Ninth District, promising change is tied to the campaign of community organizer and Democratic Candidate for the United States Congress, Adem Bunkeddeko. In 2018, Bunkeddeko narrowly lost the Democratic primary to seven-term incumbent, Rep. Yvette Clarke. Now, he is back in the race, centering his grassroots, people-powered campaign on bringing housing security and economic opportunity to the Ninth Congressional District.

“We started from zero and had many hurdles,” said Bunkeddeko. “Now we have grassroots energy leading our campaign. This is the type of energy and support that is needed to bring about change in Brooklyn and in Washington.”

Bunkeddeko, 32, has spent his entire career helping vulnerable New Yorkers attain economic autonomy. A modest upbringing has helped him connect to Brooklyn’s immigrant communities, particularly those living in Crown Heights and Flatbush. Bunkeddeko’s parents, Ugandan war refugees who fled during the civil war, resettled in Queens and raised their New York City-born children in a one-bedroom apartment. His father, who came to the US with only $50, spent time in a detention center before seeking asylum through the help of legal aid. Growing up in a working-class, immigrant family, Bunkeddeko was taught to value the principles of Democracy and economic opportunity. He was one of the first in his family to attend college and received a B.A. from Haverford College and an M.B.A. from the Harvard Business School.

“The decision to run for Congress in NY-9 was a natural arch through my experiences with community organizing and public service,” said Bunkeddeko. “My own experience, and the experiences of my parents, are similar to those in our community, particularly in immigrant neighborhoods and in communities of color. There is a hunger and a desire for change that hasn’t been met under the current representatives.”

Bunkeddeko’s career in public service and the nonprofit sector began with the New York Working Families Party, where he worked as a grassroots organizer. He later worked with the Empire State Development Corporation, improving Brooklyn’s underserved communities. Bunkeddeko has previously served on Brooklyn Community Board #8, and recently served as the strategy and innovation officer for the Local Initiatives Support Corporation to bring economic opportunity to residents.

“Roadblocks are happening in government,” said Bunkeddeko, “including roadblocks in Washington. We haven’t seen meaningful, structural change because those in charge are detached.”

Many New Yorkers, living in the state’s metropolitan area, are familiar with the financial difficulties of experiencing a high-rent burden. In some parts of Brooklyn, rent has increased by 20% or more, and some areas have suffered a net loss of 5,000 rent-stabilized apartments. Bunkeddeko’s Housing Plan includes fully funding the New York City Housing Authority (NYCHA), and creating a federal program to help moderate and low-income New Yorkers become homeowners at the lowest possible cost. His national housing initiative would see an investment of federal dollars to build 12 million public housing units throughout the country.

In a published article, Bunkeddeko wrote, “In 2018, housing was my number one issue. Now, two years later, the crisis continues as politicians allow investors to rig the housing market as they shortchange investment in affordable homes.”

Bunkeddeko’s federal school desegregation program, Race to Racial Fairness, redraws school districts away from historically segregated maps and provides federal funding for districts that recruit and accept students and teachers of color. The initiative also replaces law enforcement with mental health professionals and supports alternative post-secondary career pathways.

The killing of George Floyd by Minneapolis police officers has sparked national outrage and has invoked a larger movement to protest the rise in documented police violence towards Black individuals. Bunkeddeko is committed to fighting for equality and justice, specifically in low-income, Black and Brown communities by bringing equity and reform to the systems that are currently in place. He supports the ending of qualified immunity for law enforcement officials who violate the Constitution. Reforms to the NYPD and law enforcement, including the defunding and demilitarizing of police units, are part of Bunkeddeko’s plan to protect and reinvest in marginalized communities.

Bunkeddeko is also committed to reforming the criminal justice system, which disproportionally targets and imprisons low-income individuals of color. Reforming the bail system such that pretrial detention is based upon flight risk instead of wealth, and legalizing marijuana while expunging the records of those who have possession-related convictions, can greatly reduce America’s prison population and bring justice to those who have been disproportionately and unfairly incarcerated.

“I am exhausted and my community is exhausted,” said Bunkeddeko. “People with Black bodies are exhausted. Until the country is exhausted, we won’t see change.”

Recently, Bunkeddeko has taken to the streets of New York City, proudly marching with the Black Lives Matter movement. In early June, he rallied with the Crown Heights Tenant Union and NY Communities for Change to push for legislation that would protect New Yorkers who are housing insecure by halting all evictions while the novel coronavirus persists.

One of Bunkeddeko’s most discussed issues is on creating humane immigration policy to protect refugee and immigrant communities from deportation while reforming employer-sponsored visa systems, broadening legal services available to immigrants, and creating a pathway to citizenship for DACA recipients. In an interview with Errol Louis of NY1’s Inside City Hall, Bunkeddeko said, “We’ve got an administration that is turning its back on not only immigrants but the values that made this country what it is— and why my parents were willing to flee war-torn Uganda to come here.”

The Supreme Court’s ruling to block the Trump administration’s attempt to end DACA came as a surprise and relief to many. The decision to setback one of Trump’s crucial campaign promises, ending the legal protection of nearly 800,000 young immigrants brought to the United States as children, is provisional. While the Obama-era immigration program does not provide a pathway to citizenship, it is a problem Bunkeddeko intends to redress.

“For many people, the ‘American Dream’ has not existed,” said Bunkeddeko. “We live in a hunger-games society, and if we are not going to provide the basics— housing security, education, equal opportunity, and a pathway to citizenship— then people are not going to see the potential for a dream. If we can make lasting changes to these systems through policy, people will be actually able to live out their version of the dream.”

Adem Bunkeddeko has been endorsed by The New York Times, New York Progressive Action Network, Empire State Indivisible, LAMBA Independent Democrats of Brooklyn, Leadership Now Project, and more. For more information on Bunkeddeko’s Congressional campaign, please visit the official website, Adem for Congress.

For voter information regarding the June 23rd Democratic Primary Election, please visit, New York State Board of Elections.

Pandemic Diary VIII – Tanabel: Delivering Food, Jobs, and Community, Amid the Pandemic

May 27, 2020 By Julia DePinto Filed Under: Pandemic Diaries Tagged With: julia depinto, pandemic diary

As New York’s (confirmed) death toll nears 24, 000, nine out of ten regions across the state have steadily begun reopening non-essential sectors and easing stay-at-home restrictions. In the five boroughs, where “PAUSE” mandates could last through June 13, small, socially distant gatherings of up to ten people are once again allowed. While some New Yorkers are beginning to ease back into the “hustle” and vigor of the past, others are confronted with new challenges. Job loss, income instability, and food insecurity are only a few of countless issues, trailing the economic fallout of the novel coronavirus pandemic. Recently, city officials announced that roughly one in four New Yorkers, living in the metropolitan epicenter of COVID-19 infections, lacks adequate food.

Brooklyn-based Mutual Aid groups, small businesses, and local activists have long been organizing food pantries and providing emergency groceries to New Yorkers in need of assistance. Tanabel, a food and events company in Park Slope, opened a food drive for refugee and asylum-seeking families in late- March, soon after the announcement of “NY State on Pause.”

“We have a built a brand around the experience of communal dinners,” said Tanabel owner, Hannah Goldberg. “Because of the pandemic, our company has adopted a ‘dinner in a bag’ model. We’ve been cooking takeout feasts for Muslim communities and Brooklyn clients during the Ramadan season, and making weekly deliveries of culturally-sensitive groceries and essential items to refugee families all over the city.”

Goldberg, a writer, world-traveler, and experienced Brooklyn chef, founded Tanabel after learning about President Trump’s directive, Protecting the Nation from Foreign Terrorist Entry into the United States. The widely criticized Executive Order was created to temporally ban noncitizens from seven majority- Muslim countries, and to indefinitely suspend the resettlement of Syrian refugees in the United States. Goldberg, who had previously worked with refugee resettlement organizations, saw food as a way to bridge cultural gaps and provide job opportunities for refugee and asylum-seeking women. She invited women from Syria, Iraq, and other countries in conflict, to host dinner parties, teach cooking classes, and prepare gourmet meals that celebrate and reflect Middle Eastern culture and cuisine. Utilizing her culinary expertise and home kitchen as a source for outreach, Goldberg was able to effectively counter the Trump Administration’s anti-immigration policy, and provide community, equality, and independence for her chefs.

“There are gaps in integrating refugee women into NYC,” said Goldberg. “Tanabel was created to empower and highlight the talents of immigrant women, but it also serves as a place for them to find community and meaningful, empowering employment.”

Tanabel, a derivative of Souk el Tanabel, or the Arabic word for “lazy-person,” describes a utilitarian concept of meal preparation. In Syria, bushels of fresh produce are delivered to the home kitchens of women, who then prepare rich and complex, labor-intensive meals for merchants at the “lazy person’s” market.

“There are a lot of really earnest women in New York City, making incredibly sophisticated food,” said Goldberg. “The women I employ bring a true home-cooked angle to the meals they prepare. I’ve worked with food all of my life, but I’ve learned the most from my chefs. Their talents are extraordinary, and the ingredients they use are esoteric to American cuisine and culture.”

An unprecedented influx of unemployment claims and food insecurity, following the novel coronavirus pandemic, have affected many refugee and asylum-seeking communities. For Tanabel’s chefs, some living in the hardest-hit regions of New York City, the economic shutdown and strict state mandates meant relinquishing employment and camaraderie.

“Tanabel is still open for carry-out, although many of our chefs are not able to leave their apartments,” said Goldberg. “They are the matriarchs of their families, and now they are needed in their homes. For some of the women, it is simply not safe to take public transit to our kitchen.”

In March, Goldberg organized an emergency food drive, providing culturally-sensitive grocery aid to hundreds of refugee and asylum-seeking families throughout New York City. Neighbors for Refugees and Mask for NY have donated masks to include in the grocery deliveries. The handmade cloth-masks are sewn by refugees living in West Chester.

Goldberg hopes to open a brick-and-mortar store in the future, but says that for now, she is stepping back to let Tanabel evolve. Large, family-style feasts and a la carte items are available for take-out, cooked with fresh and locally-sourced ingredients. Goldberg has continued working privately with different chefs each week to prepare the meals.

“This experience has deepened my relationship with my chefs and has brought me closer to my neighbors and community,” said Goldberg. “The emergency food drive has been incredibly rewarding. Through donations, we have helped hundreds of people put food on their tables.”

Since 2017, Tanabel has brought refugee cuisine of the highest quality to the tables of New Yorkers through cooking classes, pop-dinners, and catering. Now they are providing ample and culturally sensitive deliveries of fresh produce and shelf-stable products to hundreds of refugee families living in New York City. To support Tanabel’s food drive, please donate here.

For more information on take-out catering, please visit Tanabel.com.

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During this time of uncertainty, we at the Park Slope Reader are committed to continuing to serve our community. Please follow us each week as we catalog changes in our neighborhoods, while providing the latest medical developments and valuable resources. Park Slope and adjoining areas are unique to the New York City landscape, and we will continue highlighting our neighbors through weekly editorials. This is a challenging and historic time; please know we are committed to getting through this together.

We want to know how the coronavirus pandemic is affecting you. If you have a story to share please contact us at office@psreader.com.

Pandemic Diary VII –  Dave the Spazz: COVID Felt Like Blowtorches Behind Each One of My Eyeballs

May 19, 2020 By Julia DePinto Filed Under: Pandemic Diaries Tagged With: julia depinto, pandemic diary

In the past few weeks, many states, including Georgia, Texas, and Ohio have lifted stay-at-home restrictions and steadily begun to reopen non-essential industries. In upstate New York, rural, less-affected areas have slowly reopened select retailers, and construction and manufacturing sectors. Governor Cuomo’s blueprint for reopening New York State divides the state into regions, each with specified timetables and guidelines. The detailed plans announced that restrictions will not be eased until the region meets specific criteria, including available hospital beds and programs for COVID-testing and contact-tracing. New Yorkers, living in the metropolitan area, can expect the economic shutdown and stay-at-home mandates to extend through June 13.

Native New Yorker and host at WFMU, Dave the Spazz, is one of many recovering COVID-19 patients, living in the epicenter of novel coronavirus cases. Dave launched his radio career in 1982 at WPKN in Bridgeport, Connecticut, and now hosts the popular radio show, Music to Spazz By. The weekly show consists of music from an eclectic mix of genres, ranging from R&B and soul sounds to garage punk and live R&R bands.

We spoke to Dave the Spazz about music, politics, antibody testing, and adjusting to the at-home DJ-life, following a long bout with COVID-19. Our conversation has been edited for brevity and clarity.

Park Slope Reader: Can you tell us about your radio show, Music to Spazz By?

Dave the Spazz: I’ve been hosting a weekly show at WFMU in Jersey City (91.1 FM) for the past 33 years. WFMU is a listener-supported, non-commercial, freeform radio station that encourages DJs to push the boundaries of entertainment, creativity, and sometimes, taste. Music To Spazz By is a fast-paced party that features rock & roll from the past 100 years. Bingo the Chimp produces the show, or at least he thinks he produces the show, but he’s frequently more trouble than he’s worth. And he files my records away upside down and out of order.

PSR: In a social media post, you explained that both you and your wife, Nancy, were infected with COVID-19 in late March. There were statewide shortages of test kits and PPE at that time. Were you and Nancy tested?

Dave: In the second half of March it was nearly impossible to get tested. I’m an “essential worker” at my day job, Broadcast Engineer at WNYC/WQXR, and I still didn’t qualify for testing. One of the few ways to get tested was to check into an ER but only if you were at death’s door.

PSR: Do you know how you contracted the virus?

Dave: I probably contracted COVID-19 from my morning C-train commute. It’s always packed at 6 am.

PSR: How has the pandemic disrupted your radio show?

Dave: With the exception of a tiny, brave skeleton crew, WFMU has cautiously put our Jersey City location on lockdown for the next 12 months. In an unheard rally of competence, most of the DJs are broadcasting from their ratty apartments/sprawling mansions either live-to-tape or live-to-air. It’s a real achievement for a legendary gang of underachievers to quickly embrace this technology. WFMU is more of a community than just a music station. The listeners are happy that we’re still on the air, mostly in real-time, cranking out their favorite noise.

PSR: You have described the symptoms of COVID-19 as, “unrelenting misery” and wrote in a social media post, “Neither of us could have been prepared for symptoms that were this insane.” Can you further explain the intensity of COVID-related symptoms?

Dave: We would get winded just walking across the room. Nancy had respiratory issues, exhaustion, and dry coughs. We both had fevers, chills, body aches, no appetite, and the lack of smell and taste. Lack of taste was a truly odd sensation. It turns out that eating is a disgusting act that many of us do several times a day. Even drinking water was difficult. Five days in, one of my lymph nodes swelled up to the size of a ping-pong ball. One night, Nancy woke up in agony as her inflamed lungs pressed down into her stomach. That was almost an emergency room night.

We lived with COVID-19 in its full glory for about 10 days or so. During that period I got slammed with four days in a row of the worst bout of blinding headaches I’d ever experienced in my life. Each session was six hours long with two in particular that were especially brutal. The COVID-headache was an odd, ruthless sort of duck. It laughed at the Tylenol I was throwing at it; chewed it up like Pez and spat it back at me. It felt like there were blowtorches behind each one of my eyeballs, with an elephant firmly seated on my forehead. I’ve had broken bones, concussions, been doored by cars, and tossed out into traffic, yet I have never experienced pain as excruciating as those headaches.

Six weeks after recovering, we still can’t shake off some lingering symptoms. Nancy’s congestion issues and my headaches. I still have daily headaches although they are not nearly at the “blowtorch” and the “elephant” intensity. I’ve been diagnosed with the post-coronavirus complication, Sinusitis. Fluid was detected behind my right ear. It’s usually a dull pain that migrates to different parts of my skull, bouncing around like a barely working string of Christmas lights.

PSR: While NYC remains the epicenter of COVID-19 cases, testing-sites are becoming increasingly available, with more than 1.4 million already tested in the state. You were not tested for COVID-19 infection; have you been tested for antibodies?

Dave: Yes, I eventually got an antibody test and the results, if their accuracy is to be believed, are perplexing. The antibody test looks for the presence of short term (IGM) and long-term (IGG) antibodies. Short-term antibodies detect that COVID-19 was in the body within the past 14 days. Long-term antibodies confirm that one had COVID-19 at some point.

I tested positive on both short and long term antibodies. Long term wasn’t a surprise but the short-term positive reading didn’t make sense. I haven’t had COVID within the past 14 days–it has been more than six weeks. Based on those odd findings, my doctor administered the classic footlong swabs up the nose, COVID-19-style. I’m currently waiting for the results.

PSR: In a social media post you wrote, “This pandemic was tragically avoidable. COVID-19 is like 9/11 in slow motion.” Many New Yorkers who experienced 9/11 have compared the two events. Can you further explain this analogy?

Dave: Both tragedies were brought upon by a deadly combination of incompetence and evil. Warning signs for each tragic event were dismissed for lazy and/or nefarious reasons by our elected officials. I was in NYC around 9/11 and worked at two jobs, both near West Canal Street. The initial impact of the airplanes hitting the World Trade Center was over in minutes but the health consequences that followed will continue to last for decades. On a more simplistic level, COVID-19 is a slow-moving beast. Its devastation crawls along like two airplanes stuck in aspic.

PSR: What are your thoughts on the federal government’s response to the pandemic?

Dave: Our president and his toadies dropped the ball on this one through ignorance and shortsighted greed. They have a lot to answer for, and in a just world, they would be held accountable for their actions, or inactions. Trump’s a madman but I blame his yes-men, cretins, even more for having his back and legitimizing all of this.

PSR: What about New York State’s response?

Dave: Andrew “I’ll change my name to ‘Amazon’” Cuomo certainly appears rational and oddly comforting these days, especially in comparison to Trump’s insanity. However, the NYC and NY State response was slipshod and late to the pandemic. For the most part, I blame New York’s dysfunctional and bickering parents, de Blasio and Cuomo. Schools and playgrounds should be open or closed, subways cleaned or not cleaned, St Patrick’s Day parade or not– these were only a few issues that were botched by their mismanagement.

More importantly, I think that along with other politicians and corporation owners, Governor Cuomo is underreporting the numbers of confirmed and probable COVID-19 associated deaths. Deaths at home or outside of the health care system, false negatives on tests, and infections after testing are all variables that may not be accurately figured into the total count. For any plan to reopen schools and businesses, and not have it be an even worse catastrophe, we need accurate information. Cooking the books won’t save our asses this time.

PSR: The pandemic, and first-hand experience with the COVID-19 infection, have disrupted your life in ways that many people cannot imagine. What has been the greatest challenge for you and Nancy during this time of unfortunate adversity?

Dave: In April, Nancy’s eldest sister contracted COVID-19 and died a week later. She was living in a step-down care facility after a brief hospitalization in Cherry Hill, New Jersey. The nurses said that no one at the facility had COVID-19, although no tests were performed.

It was heartbreaking for Nancy’s family to not have a funeral, and not be able to console each other in person. There was no opportunity to look a loved one in the eye and ask, “What the hell just happened?” To hear that someone you know is sick is an almost daily event. It’s worse than catching it yourself.

PSR: In a recent post, you wrote, “The mystery of what each day brings can be confounding and agonizing.” I am assuming you still feel this way. Is there anything keeping you hopeful?

Dave: What we don’t know about this virus outweighs what we do. This is a mysterious and serpentine virus that continues to outwit us at every turn. Ignoring its global impact is a fool’s errand and currently, fools are at the wheel.

I’m hopeful that a vaccine at some point will rein in COVID’s obliterating destruction, or at least slow it down. If we’re ever going to beat this, it means being patient and settling down for the long haul. This will be a protracted process and the sooner that we acknowledge that the rest of 2020 is a bust, the better we’ll be able to cope with uncharted days ahead.

PSR: Which musicians are you listening to off-the-air? Has the pandemic changed your musical selection?

Dave: Aside from WFMU, New Orleans music really pulled us through the worst of this. Josh Paxton is an amazing piano player in the James Booker, Allen Toussaint, and Fats Waller style. His Saturday night streamed solo shows direct from NOLA were a party and a tonic. Also, in place of this year’s Jazz Fest, WWOZ aired rare Jazz Fest broadcasts with Irma Thomas, Dr. John, Fess, and Ella Fitzgerald.

Music to Spazz By is a listener-supported, non-commercial, freeform radio show, hosted by Dave the Spazz and produced by Bingo the Chimp. Tune in to WFMU (91.1 FM) on Thursdays from 9 pm- Midnight for the best tracks in late-night R&R.

Contribute to Park Slope Reader’s Covid-19 Relief Fund to support our staff, writers, artists, and advertisers during this time.

We want to know how the coronavirus pandemic is affecting you. If you have a story to share please contact us at office@psreader.com.

Pandemic Diary VI- I Will Keep Sewing Masks As Long As People Need Them: An Interview with Carla Bellisio

May 12, 2020 By Julia DePinto Filed Under: Pandemic Diaries Tagged With: julia depinto, pandemic diary

Since the early days of the novel coronavirus outbreak, confusion and controversy surrounding self-protective measures and Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) have continued to circulate in the United States. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) recommend wearing non-surgical grade masks and cloth face coverings in public and reserving high-grade N95 respirator masks for healthcare workers and medical first responders. A review of federal purchasing contracts confirmed that the Trump Administration failed to stockpile life-saving medical equipment, vital to protecting medical frontline workers and treating patients infected with COVID-19. The fractured federal response to the pandemic has caused mass shortages in PPE and ventilator machines, draining resources from the Strategic National Stockpile.

The shortages of medical equipment and PPE have led many skilled artisans and emergency response collectives to organize, producing thousands of units of protective wear each week. Professional Fashion Designer and Co-Founder of Fermata Designs, Carla Bellisio, has sewn hundreds of cloth facemasks and reusable surgical gowns for essential workers, first responders, and frontline health personnel.

We spoke to Bellisio to get a rare glimpse into the life of a professional artist, amid the pandemic. Our conversation has been edited for brevity and clarity.

PSR: Where are you from, and how long have you worked in the fashion industry?

Carla Bellisio: I was born and raised in central New Jersey, along the coast, and moved to New York City in 2005. I have worked in costume design for numerous theatre companies in the city, and I am currently studying Sustainable Fashion at the London College of Fashion.

I started making doll clothes at a very early age. I was unhappy with the manufactured clothing that the dolls were dressed in. I began sewing my own. Earlier generations of my family lived in New York. My grandmother worked as a milliner in the garment district, and my dad was born and raised in Flatbush. When he was a boy, he worked for a manufacturer in the garment district as an errand boy. A generation before that, my great grandfather worked as a glover in Italy.

PSR: NYC’s first confirmed case of the novel coronavirus was reported on March 1. When did you first begin sewing masks?

Carla Bellisio: I was still in Europe when the virus was first reported in NYC. I came home for Easter break during the second week of March. At first, I wasn’t thinking too much about the possibility of not being able to return to school after the break. The plane ride to New York was daunting. I realized that I might not be able to return to London after the break and that I would need to quarantine myself for a few weeks. I did not start making masks right away; I did a lot of research first. I knew I had the resources and capability to make large quantities of masks. I wanted the specifications to be correct so that I could utilize my resources and time in the most effective way possible.

The first set of 150 masks was made with supplies from my own stock. I sent the masks to friends, family, neighbors, and local workers. I also sent boxes of masks to physicians and nurse practitioners at the Thomas Jefferson University teaching hospital in Philadelphia, and Columbia Presbyterian hospital here in New York. It wasn’t until later that I began making surgical gowns for medical workers.

PSR: To clarify, you are supplying the materials to sew masks. How are you able to sustain this model, and have you considered asking for donations?

Carla Bellisio: When my supplies began to narrow, my friends and family sent me fabric. I have not asked for cash donations or charged for the masks. I don’t feel that it is right for me to profit off of them. Once you start selling masks, it becomes a business and you have to give customer service.

I recently partnered with two artists coalitions to make PPE. The fabric is provided by the organizations.

PSR: You are working with emergency response organizations, The Skilled Laborers Brigade, and Broadway Relief Project. You have sewn hundreds of reusable masks for public service workers and surgical gowns for the medical community. Can you tell us more about your involvement with these organizations?

Carla Bellisio: The Broadway Relief Project was contracted by the NYC EDC (Economic Development Corporation) to build 39,000 emergency gowns for NYC hospitals. So that’s what I am working on now. The previous gowns I made also went to NYC hospitals.

I received an update email from The Skilled Laborers Brigade. The box of 50 masks I stitched for them contributed to a set of 5,000, which went to:

1,500 masks into the hands of Firefighters in Freemont, CA
600 masks into the hands of ER Nurses at Mt. Sinai West
1,500 masks into the hands of doctors across NYC
300 masks to nurses at Burke Rehabilitation
300 masks to doctors Montefiore Medical Center
800 masks to doctors in NY/NJ

PSR: That’s incredible. Has this experience been personally rewarding for you?

Carla Bellisio: Yes, it really has. I’m still taking classes remotely and working towards my Master’s degree, but sewing PPE for frontline workers has given me a lot of purpose during this time. The physical act of sewing is meditative and has kept me focused.

PSR: You are studying Sustainable Fashion at the London College of Art. How has the pandemic changed the trajectory of your studies?

Carla Bellisio: The pandemic is affecting all of my assignments. This has truly changed the future of the fashion industry. If we ignore the effects of this then we ignore the pandemic. PPE has traditionally been disposable. The gowns are made of paper with a plastic backing. Now we are sewing reusable cloth gowns, made of cotton. If there is any silver lining, it’s that we needed to slow down and create clothing that is ethically sourced and consciously produced. The fashion industry can aggressively take steps to improve fashion sustainability.

PSR: The PPE you are sewing is made of reusable cotton fabrics, none of which are medical grade. Multiple reports suggest that the Trump administration not only failed to prepare hospitals and essential frontline workers with life-saving equipment, including N95 respirator masks and ventilator machines, but they also rejected offers from medical supply manufacturers. What is your response to this?

Carla Bellisio: I’m reluctant about it. The masks and gowns I have sewn are not surgical, medical-grade. These are not N95 masks; they are cloth. I was happy to make cloth facemasks for my friends and neighbors. I wanted them to feel protected going to the grocery store. It’s unnerving that artists and designers are making PPE for medical workers. We are making these items in our apartments, not sterile spaces. If hospitals had steady supplies of the proper medical equipment, many lives could have been saved.

PSR: Both President Trump and Vice President Pence have faced criticism for rejecting the recommendations of the CDC and their own administration’s counsel to wear face masks in public spaces. In New York, all residents over the age of two are mandated to wear a mask or cloth face-covering in public. Last week, Mayor De Blasio announced that the city will distribute 7.5 million face coverings to New Yorkers in select locations. What is your response?

Carla Bellisio: I think the mandate is a good idea, but only paired with the free mask initiative. When I began making masks there was a lot of conflicting information about the efficacy of wearing them, but overall they do provide protection. By mandating their use, I think it emphasizes the need to be smart about wearing PPE, but providing free masks is crucial. One of the reasons I don’t charge for masks is because I know how important it is for everyone to have a base level of protection. I try to make it easy for my community to access them. I will keep sewing masks as long as people need them.

SUPPORT PARK SLOPE READER – KEEP US FREE AND LOCAL

During this time of uncertainty, we at the Park Slope Reader are committed to continually serving our community. Please follow us each week as we catalog changes in our neighborhoods, while providing the latest medical developments and valuable resources. Park Slope and adjoining areas are unique to the New York City landscape, and we will continue highlighting our neighbors through weekly editorials. This is a challenging and historic time; please know we are committed to getting through this together.

We want to know how the coronavirus pandemic is affecting you. If you have a story to share please contact us at office@psreader.com.

Pandemic Diary V- Love Letter from Florence, Italy

May 5, 2020 By Alessandra Bogner Filed Under: Pandemic Diaries Tagged With: julia depinto, pandemic diary

I miss Brooklyn.

I admit that since I left nearly 7 years ago, I’ve had moments of missing things about Brooklyn, but I was very present in my new life in Florence, Italy and loved living here…until now. Today we are on day 48 of our lockdown in Italy. My people back in NYC think they’re on lockdown, but trust me, they’re not.

The Coronavirus made it to Italy in early February and by March 9^th, the entire country was shut down. It happened so fast. I mean Italy is not exactly a place that you would ever call “efficient” so the way it went down was shocking. Since the lockdown, Italy has become what I call a “police state” and that means I can’t do shit without risking a serious fine. I can’t go by myself for a walk or a drive – unless I am going to the pharmacy, the supermarket or a doctor. Before leaving the house, you need to prepare yourself to be stopped by any of the 3 police forces and have your signed documents declaring you’re not sick, where you live and where you’re going. And if not on “an essential mission” your ass is getting a fine anywhere between 400 and 4000 euros. God forbid you’re 2 people together, you’re totally screwed. If 2 people are in the car, one has to be in the back seat (one of the many rules that make absolutely no sense to me). Basically, I have to stay the fuck home or stay within 200 meters of my house or risk a fine. This is lockdown. Actually, this is a war of sorts and this Brooklyn girl is pissed that I didn’t have the foresight to choose my comrades correctly.

Before the lockdown was official and we really had no idea what we were in for, we talked about going back to NY, but decided we would stay put. Our son Dean was supposed to graduate from high school and we couldn’t risk missing that. Hindsight can be a very cruel thing.

I mean the first couple of weeks were fine. At first, I felt as if I’d almost manifested time slowing down and getting to spend quality time with my son who’s supposed to go to college in the fall. We are lucky enough to live in a roomy house with lots of property to move around with our 2 poochies. We were cooking, eating, laughing, playing cards. Sure, we could do this for a couple of weeks…ahhh, the innocence. We were happy and grateful fools. I was even impressed with how swiftly the Italian government went into action…and I still am. Very fucking impressed. But, again, that hindsight is a bitch. The Brooklyn girl in me doesn’t feel comfortable being locked down and afraid to go anywhere. I understand the gravity of the situation, and I would have locked myself down regardless of the police presence, but they made this shit feel like a war and I have no idea who to call the enemy.

While I am sure the sentiments might be the same everywhere during this global pandemic, I long for my people of Brooklyn.

My parents immigrated to the US from Italy in the 60s, settled in Brooklyn and I was born and raised in Sheepshead Bay during the 70s and 80s. This means that I am a tough chick, with lots of heart and humor and I am guided by this inner force of community and connection. As dangerous as NYC was during that time, for some reason we felt safe, because we were in Brooklyn. Everyone watched out for each other, and when we had beef with someone, we dealt with it face on. No whining and complaining (perhaps a lot of screaming), but Brooklynites are no one’s victim. Did we lose our shit from time to time? Of course we did. Brooklynites are passionate about their shit. But you came together and handled your problems. No one ever snitched, because that was the lowest thing you could do (got that, Mr. de Blasio?). We grew up in a time before people got offended at everything and lost their sense of humor. In fact, the Brooklyn I grew up in was quite fond of offending each other just to get a laugh. We should all be watching out and taking care of each other, especially right now. I wish that the US was taking better care of us and that we didn’t have to worry about basic needs like healthcare and toilet paper. But they’re not. It’s up to us to make each other feel safe.

When the terrorists attacked NYC on that morning of September 11, 2001, despite the fear and uncertainty, our other superpowers -connection and resilience – kicked into gear. I have never felt a connection to every single person like I did during that time. The city survived on that feeling of oneness and connection and we rose above the fear and uncertainty together. No one had to tell us what to do; we were guided by that inner force with our feet planted firmly on top of our New York roots. I go into town here in Florence and if God forbid I catch someone’s eyes to make a connection, they turn their head. As we say in Brooklyn, get the fuck outta here. I mean, do you really think you’re going to catch the virus through eye contact? But I don’t get offended, because their actions speak of who they are; not who I am. Fear is what this virus feeds on; it makes us feel separate and vulnerable. Just like we did during the terrorism scare, we will heal in community.

I don’t really listen to the news, but I see videos of my NYC brothers and sisters clapping out their windows for essential workers. I even watched a video of a friend who placed his speakers outside his window and blasted Brooklyn-boy-Jay Z’s “Empire State of Mind” for the whole block to hear. And what about the other night when the fire trucks lined up in front of Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital and one of NYs bravest belted out the Jimi Hendrix version of the National Anthem on his guitar? I cried like a baby from my expat home. I wanna go back to Brooklyn and be in the bosom of my people. It’s not that I don’t like the Florentines – that’s not it at all, because they too are a resilient people and I am incredibly grateful to the Italians and my life here. The supermarkets are still filled with food and all the essentials and I have my bidet, but they don’t have that Brooklyn blood that bonds us.

For 48 days the only stores that have been open are pharmacies, fresh food markets and tobacco stores (the Italian “essential services”). That means that every other business has been shut down, leaving many many people facing financial ruin in one fell swoop. The other day I got the most amazing news – a friend was opening his restaurant and they were going to deliver pizza! I felt as if I’d won the lottery! My son is lactose intolerant, but fuck it, he’ll have the leftovers in the fridge. I immediately contacted the people on our property with the good news.

See, I live in a 15^th century villa that sits on a hill right outside the city center and this villa was cut up into apartments about 20 years ago, so there are about 8 of us that live on this property. I was so incredibly disappointed to get their responses that they will make their own pizzas. Now, of course I was excited at the prospect of not cooking for the first time in 6 weeks, but I was even more excited about the sense of rebuilding community and being able to help these small businesses. The opportunity of helping a family and a business get back on their feet gives me an incredible amount of joy and hope. Call it the New York in me.

This is the second time I’ve left Brooklyn. The first time was in 1992 when I crossed the bridge into Manhattan, because I needed to do the whole sex, city and career thing of the 90s and noughties. In 2007, I crossed the bridge back into Brooklyn, but chose Park Slope for its community feel, good schools and bagels. Park Slope was a very different place than the Brooklyn where I grew up. My son attended PS 39 and sometimes I felt like I was the only native Brooklynite amongst a field of transplants. But Mother Earth Brooklyn is a powerful bitch where transplants thrive. A few years later, we bought our house in Fiske Terrace, which I thought would be my final resting place. I guess we’ve all figured out by now that man makes plans and God laughs. In 2013, my family moved to Florence, where I became the transplant, except here, we call ourselves the expats. Life seemed a little easier here, as the Italians really do understand la dolce vita. So, within this new environment, my Brooklyn superpowers helped me thrive and I created an incredible community here. But then the lockdown happened and suddenly I found myself crying for Mother Brooklyn. It’s been the hardest part of this lockdown – missing New York.

Well, maybe the hardest part of the lockdown was yesterday when I lost my internet (and lost my shit). They can get a whole country sitting home in a matter of days, but these fuckers still cannot understand how to improve their internet.

I don’t know when I will be able to get back to NY, as I don’t think easy air travel will be possible for a while in and out of Europe. But I just want to scream across the ocean to my people, “You got this!” NYC is an army of power prepared for any war and capable of rebuilding a better, more evolved community. It’s time to be old school and to not let the assholes get you down. That which offends you, weakens you.

Every day when you wake up, put on your cape and decide what type of person you’re going to be and how you’d like to be remembered during this time. Will you have brought people up or will you have bitched and complained? You can choose to sit in the kryptonite of fear and offense, or look within and find your superpower.

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We want to know how the coronavirus pandemic is affecting you. If you have a story to share please contact us at office@psreader.com.

Pandemic Diary IV- Local Business Owners Fight for Rent Relief and Official Representation

April 28, 2020 By Julia DePinto Filed Under: Pandemic Diaries Tagged With: julia depinto, pandemic diary

The novel coronavirus pandemic began as a public health emergency and quickly spiraled into an economic catastrophe for many residential and commercial renters in New York State. Since mid-March, 1.4 million New Yorkers have filed for unemployment benefits, overwhelming the Department of Labor, and contributing to the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression. For small business owners living in the metropolitan epicenter of the pandemic, the economic shutdown has shuttered their industries and caused tensions with property owners to paramount. The staggering financial losses and absence of federal support have forced many to confront the harsh realities of terminating longtime employees, falling behind in rent payments, and closing their storefronts permanently.

“98% of the businesses in New York City employ 100 or less people. They’re all small businesses,” said Diana Kane in an interview with ABC News. “New York will be a wasteland if we don’t figure this out.”

Kane, a Park Slope resident and owner of the brick and mortar shop, The Diana Kane Boutique, has been selling small designer, sustainable clothing collections, and handmade accessories since 2002. Small companies like Kane’s, employ more than half of New York City’s private sector workforce, strengthening the state’s economy and contributing to the culture and unique fabric of New York City. Recently, Kane and a coalition of local business owners launched the grassroots movement #WeBuiltThisNYC to bring attention to the plight of small businesses devastated by the economic shutdown.

Photographs of small business owners wearing surgical masks and cloth face coverings are routinely updated on the initiative’s Instagram page. The owners, standing in front of their locked stores and boutiques, hold signs that read, #WeBuiltThisNYC and #WeBuiltThisBrooklyn. Their personal testimonies circulate through the app’s transient “story” feature; and joint posts demanding rent relief, lease renegotiations, and demands for government action are marked with the hashtags, #Recovery4All, #bettertogether, and #MAYDAY.

Many of the businesses featured in #WeBuiltThisNYC are owned by women.

While some states have begun slowly reopening their economies, New York State remains under strict stay-at-home mandates. The aggressive measures taken to flatten the curve, are showing to be effective in reducing the spread of the virus; and are ultimately reducing the number of deaths per day. In a recent news briefing, Governor Cuomo sketched out the framework for reopening non-essential sectors of the state, beginning with construction and manufacturing in upstate New York before moving to the metropolitan area.

“I hear sirens every night,” said Kane. “I think being closed is totally appropriate right now, so I agree with being closed. I don’t agree with having to go out of business because of it.”

The Park Slope Fifth Avenue Business Improvement District recently reported that roughly 90% of the 500 businesses they represent are closed.

Fonda, the owner of the Zuzu’s Petals, said that economic shutdown, including an inadequate amount of federal assistance and the accumulation of bills, is jeopardizing her business of 49 years. Her flower shop, in the heart of Park Slope, was shuttered on March 22, following Governor Cuomo’s Executive Mandate to close all non-essential businesses.

“We have no income,” Fonda said. “Our rent and some bills, including utilities, insurance, and taxes have been temporarily suspended. The debt is accruing and will have to be paid when we re-open.”

The Paycheck Protection Program (PPP) was created with the intent of providing business owners with forgivable loans, but flaws in the program have hindered some small businesses from securing federal relief. The PPP’s initial $349 billion allotment for federal relief was exhausted within two weeks. Both the Senate and House have approved a second relief package of $310 billion.

“I have applied for the PPP and the EIDL (Economic Injury Disaster Loan) from the Small Business Administration,” said Fonda. “I have received no funds. If I am approved for either loan, the money will be insufficient and will not cover the accruing debt. In order to have the loan converted to a grant, 75% of the PPP must be used for payroll. That leaves next to nothing for rent.”

In an Instagram video, Tara Silberberg, owner of The Clay Pot in Nolita explained her situation.

“Our Business Interruption Insurance will not cover us in this pandemic, and even when we reopen we don’t expect our sales to be the same,” said Silberberg. She paused before adding, “I was told by Chase that I did not get my PPP loan, and we have to pay our rent on May 1. My rent is $20 thousand a month and my landlord refuses to negotiate with me. He says the rent can be deferred and I will just pay it amortized out over the rest of the year. I can’t get unemployment so I will be forced to borrow money to pay my landlord the rent.”

The Clay Pot has been in Silberberg’s family since 1969 and has employed thousands of New Yorkers over the years. Originally a pottery studio rooted in the heart of Brooklyn, the business evolved into a jewelry store after the stock market crash of 1987.

The founders of #WeBuiltThisNYC are now turning to local politicians for help. In an email to Council Member Brad Lander, Kane explains the challenges looming over business owners.

“Our landlords continue to expect full rent,” Kane wrote. “I received a letter from my landlord demanding back rent, with the addition of late fees and legal fees. While I know some landlords have been more understanding, this is awful added stress in an already disastrous moment. Though I applied for the EIDL, I have received nothing, and no further communication after submitting my application.”

We asked Fonda of ZuZu’s Petals what she misses the most about pre-pandemic times.

“I miss my job,” said Fonda. “I miss going to the wholesale market early in the morning and loading my arms with fabulous fresh cut flowers from all over the world. I also miss helping customers chose the right combination of flowers and the proper houseplants. I miss oohing and aahing with them over an incredible piece of handmade pottery. These are the things that I miss.”

A Note from the Editor:
The Park Slope Fifth Avenue Business Improvement District has created a comprehensive list of local businesses that are open amid the pandemic, including essential proprietors and online venders. Out of the 500 retailers that the BID represents, almost 90% have closed. Please continue to buy local when possible.

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julia depinto

Meet the Civil Rights Attorney and Democratic Community Leader Running to Represent Brooklyn’s 39th District

Mother Cabrini Memorial

Giancarlo Biagi & Jill Burkee-Biagi (2020)

Ruth Bader Ginsburg Memorial

Gillie & Marc (forthcoming)

Medusa with the Head of Perseus

Luciano Garbati (2008-2020)

Meet the Civil Rights Attorney and Democratic Community Leader Running to Represent Brooklyn’s 39^th District