May 2023

This is The Black Urbanist Weekly with Kristen Jeffers, an email newsletter that highlights the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist thoughts and commentary of me, Kristen E.  Jeffers, an internationally-known urban planner,  fiber designer, and contributing editor. Think of this as an editorial page column, but directly in your email.

If you’re new here, we have six sections: Story of the Week; The Principle Corner; By the Way; On the Shelf, On the Playlist, and Before You Go. Scroll down to get descriptions of each section. Plus, you can read all archives right here, on my homepage.  Now, let’s get to our storytime.

Story of the Week:  Transit Magic and Transit Power

We lived too close to the school for me to use it, but it used our street nonetheless. 

They were built by more than people named Thomas, but they were built not far from a Thomasville.

It, was the yellow school bus.

It, watching from our front window around the age of four or five, was the beginning of my love affair for transit. It also began my transit dreaming.

***

You know I love time traveling in this newsletter these days and here we are in 2014 with me in disbelief that I’m sitting on a dais. But I was, and it was mid-afternoon and I’d just been the lone vote on a union contract that I voted against for vibes (do not recommend, please read all of your materials even if you’re on the smallest local or state committee) as one of my first and few actions of being on the Greensboro Transit Authority. 

First and few, because I was on my way to Kansas City just a few moments later, but I was also shook as I’d grown up knowing the staff liaison to GTA as one of the nice younger adult men at our church Ebenezer Baptist rising up the ranks of leadership and singing in the choir next to my dad. I realized much later one of my Dad’s first cousins was a regular GTA rider and regularly outspoken at the meetings. 

It was one thing to idolize the idea of public transit, but in Greensboro, I still got in my car 95% of the time, and I wasn’t dependent on our deficient system. But, at that point, at age 27, I was on this powerful board, and I was shook because I wanted to have all the answers and didn’t.

***

But I wasn’t powerless forever. But even that shook me up, because I knew I’d have folk’s life and safety in my hands and the power was overwhelming.

I was asked by the Kansas City Streetcar Authority, just months away from opening their region-changing line, to assist them, in my role as communications and membership manager at BikeWalkKC, to create some bike/ped safety materials. In addition to taking the work of the phenomenal communications team at the streetcar and adapting it to a rack card that could go out to bike shops and other community partners, I also helped test loading and unloading bikes onto the streetcar just a few weeks before it opened.

My work was enough to get me a VIP pass and ride on the special streetcar bar crawl the day it opened to the public with the directors of the agency. The next morning, I happened to be in the front row of the public opening. I wasn’t supposed to be on the first revenue train, but somehow, I was in the right eye line for then KCMO Mayor Sly James to point to me as if I was a random Kansas Citian in need of a golden ticket from the stage of that public opening.

I laughed with some of the other dignitaries who knew what was up, while also thinking that one of my colleagues, maybe not me, should have been on here anyway. But that wasn’t the first time in Kansas City that I was able to get on a major platform, on behalf of my company, ahead of my two executive directors. There were other radio interviews, TV interviews, and a little bit of side work from having run The Black Urbanist for at this time five years.

I felt undeserving. I kept writing though, even when my opinion was not unpopular, but uncomfortable, like when I asked for a new airport.

***

I took all that insecurity with me when I quit abruptly and came to DC. I channeled it into one of my first articles for GGWash, on the (potential) loss of an entrance to Potomac Yard. 

I’m still working on this report in which I’ve theorized the need for as many entrances as possible at all Metro stations, that’s been sitting on the shelf because I get scared sometimes when I dream things and do things that are powerful and uncomfortable.

But just like there’s an airport in Kansas City today that’s better that opened up just a few weeks ago, I walked off the train at Potomac Yard today and looked at not just one, but three entrance options. 

I parked in front of the Barnes and Noble, right next to my Michael’s down the strip from the Target and Best Buy that are closer to the first of the three entrances.

I seem to attract the kinds of folks that love Barnes and Noble, no matter who and how I date, and Les is no question. In fact, she’s been a card-carying B&N member for a very long time and we just upgraded to premium after our train trip today. 

As we would go to Barnes and Noble during all the phases of the pandemic,  we’ve been watching this station go up with excitement.

She took Lyft this morning to make it to the ribbon cutting and I watched from home as I edited this morning’s GGWash Breakfast Links, as I do as a contract contributing editor, under my own consulting banner Kristen Jeffers Media.

As  I got in our car and drove over to that B&N after finishing posting our editorial slate for the day, I was wishing that the proposed Metro lines near our apartment were off the drawing board as well. I drove past the Wilson Bridge Trail, wishing I’d had more stamina to also participate in Bike to Work Day.

But, I got to B&N, helped Les refuel (she’s still recovering, but very active), and then we set off to ride the train from Potomac Yard.

It was amazing.

I took lots of photos and video of the both of us and I’ll be sharing those over the next few days, but I picked one of my favorites to lead with today.

Thanks again for listening to all my stories. There’s only more to come, because if today is any indication, some of my transit stories are magic. And yes, I’m just as hype as Alexandria Mayor Justin Wilson today,  because I never stopped believing in this transit dream.

The Principle Corner

In this section, we step away from the literary expression that opens this newsletter and into the “practical”.

Today is a full circle day because for the third time, I’ve been able to ride a public transit line or go to a brand new transit station on its opening day. That’s been the core of my work since I wrote my very first series of posts about having easy access to public transportation back in 2009. 

But, I want to remind us that some folks having access to quality public transportation is not enough. The WMATA Metro station that opened today is in a state that needs to increase its funding allotment not just for this particular station, but for the lines that connect to it (this link is paywalled, but in it WMATA GM Randy Clarke calls for states and localities to step up  when  funding transit). 

Thankfully, the City of Alexandria was not only visionary enough continue pushing through this plan despite numerous setbacks over the course of 40 years,  it continues to innovate, despite diversity setbacks. 

I want every child to have the joy of riding the yellow school bus or a subway or metro train or bus and go exactly where they want to go, without fear. 

And as an adult, I’m living for this day of being able to ride a train, right by something I use in my car all the time, along with shaping policy, advocacy, and how we tell the story of transit, but on my own terms.

Now, onward to masking up again and heading to opening night at the Washington Mystics, with a DC Black Queer Women’s meetup.

By the Way

Here’s where  I share other articles/videos that were noteworthy for me this week in this section. Apologies in advance for things behind a paywall. Some things I subscribe to and others I grab just before the wall comes down on me. I will start marking these articles and describing them. 

I will forever amplify any stories that tell the truth about dollar stores and their stripping of value from neighborhoods of people who need lifting up the most. Plus, if they can give this stuff away for nearly free, imagine what we could do if we did so equitably (and scroll down to the Before You Go for some mutual aid ideas).

***

I will be making it to the Sheep to Shawl competition next year, along with the entire Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. Excited to see this on NPR!

***

Honoring the (semi)retirement of Black disabled movement elder Anita Cameron. As I lean even more into disability justice, I thank her for being there even when the intersections seemed to crash right on her and I honor her for taking this next step to practice self-care.

***

Happy Bike to Work Day, even to those of you who biked across your living room to your work-from-home space!

***

Finally, as we honor not just the revolutionaries that were all born today, but our Asian-American and Pacific Islander native siblings and colleagues, I want to lift up the article of all the Asian Connies that came from watching Connie Chung. I included her in my pantheon of women of color coming on TV and showing me that being a professional writer and journalist was real. I am also touched that she knows this and honors the legacy that she’s left. Let us all proceed in solidarity as we march toward justice and liberation!

On the Shelf, On the Playlist

My weekly recommendations of books, music, podcasts, and other pop culture

We’re still reading Viral Justice this week, and I finished chapter one and had to marinate on it. This might be a slow read just so I can process and savor it. Hence why I’m down to once-a-month book recs and we might need to do once a quarter. 

Music-wise you may have seen on Les’s page that we masked up and took a huge leap of faith to sit in the ADA section and watch Anita Baker perform the entire scheduled show, on time, in Baltimore, on key, with an encore. We’ve also been watching the new Afeni and Tupac Shakur documentary Dear Mama and if you enjoyed me teaching that lesson back in the active version of my Black Queer Feminist Urbanist school, you’ll love this doc. Also, I am still working on getting the school back up and running, but I’ll not put a date on that, just know my heart is there.

Before You Go

This is our last section, where I have classified advertisements for others along with nudges to donate to crowdfunding and social justice campaigns but I also advertise things that I’m doing that are for sale or for hire. Rates start at $75 a week for a four-week commitment and $150 for just one week. Learn more and get started with your ad! First, another position open with UC San Diego Labor Center, which has updated their salary requirements and due dates for advertising this position.

POSITION OVERVIEW

Position title: Program Director – UC San Diego Labor Center

Salary range: A reasonable salary range estimate for this position is $86,000 – $106,000. Off-scale salaries, i.e., a salary that is higher than the published system-wide salary at the designated rank and step, are offered when necessary to meet competitive conditions. The posted UC academic salary scales
(https://www.ucop.edu/academic-personnel-programs/compensation/2022-23-academic-salary-scales.html

set the minimum pay determined by rank and/or step at appointment. See the salary scale titled, Academic Administrator Series – Fiscal Year for the salary range https://www.ucop.edu/academic-personnel- programs/_files/2022-23/july-2022-salary-scales/t34.pdf.

APPLICATION WINDOWOpen date: May 11, 2023

I’ve been in Kansas City for just over a month. While I didn’t arrive by plane this time, all the other times I’ve come and gone from KC, have been through the Kansas City International Airport.

Only once have I driven myself to said airport. I’ve parked at the B-11 post, the one that gives props to the Jazz Museum, in the economy lot. I’ve looked out at the airport on I-29 a mile before I could reach it and wondered why I couldn’t just drive up from that first vantage point. I’ve told myself that I’d rather pay $27 for four days of travel instead of just one.

I like to get to the airport early. I tend to carry a lot of things, but I’ve reduced them down. Even with the reduction, I sometimes forget to charge my phone or I don’t have time to eat or I have something that just doesn’t fit well into my purse.

Or, maybe I did everything right and I got to the airport on time. Because I spent 45 minutes getting there from Midtown, by car, I didn’t have time to check and see that my plane was delayed by an hour. Thankfully, I checked the screen before I hit security, but how would I know that the Pig and Pickle would have fed me ok? And that’s only for that one gate in Terminal B going to DC. The gate I use to fly to Charlotte is even less inviting and just as restricting.

Oh the horror if I’d ridden the bus out and learned I’d still have to find a way to pass two more hours of time.

You may think this is whiny. That I don’t get it. After all, I’m new. I shouldn’t expect shiny newfangled things in Kansas City. That’s what other cities do, even though we want to be other cities sometimes.

People. The Piedmont Triad International Airport, my home airport in Greensboro, is small. It doesn’t have a lot past security. But we have managed to lower the lights, put in at least a reasonably priced bar, newsstand and clean, normal sized bathroom past our security gate. And before security, a nice small mall of sorts, representing our proud North Carolinianess, our Natty Greens beer (They’re our Boulevard) and some nice rocking chairs. You know I love my airport rocking chairs.

When I go to Charlotte and Raleigh, I appreciate their toys. But 9 times out of 10 I’m going out of the same gate and that gate only has limited things. But I only hang out at the gate if I think my flight is coming soon. Except at MCI. There, I’d rather have the security chore done.

However, to avoid being one of those people, who complain without actions, this is what I think a new MCI should do:

— Be a masterpiece of what this city is. Make it look like the Plaza or Union Station on the outside. If we are going to spend the money, create a modern/classic airport blend that will get people and the airlines to want to be based here.  (and their favorite airline will want to come here)

— One security line. Or maybe four like Charlotte, but easy access to all gates no matter what line.

— Clean, spacious restrooms. Remember, it’s me and my carry-on and we need room. I’d also like to only have to deal with my own human waste, thank you very much.

— A food option, a shopping option and maybe even a spa option with easy access to each gate. If you travel often, you know the spa option’s not so luxurious. Get on a plane after you’ve been massaged and imbibed and you don’t hate air travel as much.

— A plane train. Ok, maybe not so much, but ATL is not half the crazy airport it could be thanks to its train and good wayfinding signs.

So that’s it KC. We need a new airport. I hope the city doesn’t mess it up too, but let’s just pray hard that they don’t and we can all be both proud of our airport and know that we won’t lose money in the process.

And remember, people like me, the transplants and frequent travelers, will pay it off by using it over time.

This is the May 12, 2023 edition of The Black Urbanist Weekly with Kristen Jeffers, an email newsletter that highlights the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist thoughts and commentary of me, Kristen E.  Jeffers, an internationally-known urban planner,  fiber designer, and contributing editor. Think of this as an editorial page column, but directly in your email.

 I want to note that this week is the beginning of a few changes in the newsletter format. I’d been doing this personal comfort series, but to be honest, it’s been weighing me down. So in this newsletter, I manage to tie my three scariest/least comfortable places together. I’m still including my By the Way, On the Shelf, and Before You Go sections, but the first two sections will be reconfigured just a bit starting next week and in this week’s Principle Corner, I’ll talk more about what this exercise has brought up in me and what I want to experiment with next.

Also, I will be consolidating platforms. More info on that is to come, but you will still be getting newsletters on Fridays.  Now, my combined story of the week.

Story of the Week: Cages of Healing, Cathedrals of Chains,  Adorned with Terror

They told me that it was the best course for his healing. That we were halfway home when it came to him coming back to life.

But regardless, it was still my dad, in a diaper, in a playpen, behind a net, in a hospital room, while I, at age 25, in 2010, am growing up faster than I expected, despite being a young adult.

It was a soft cage, a cage for his healing, but a cage.

But of course, I was thankful it wasn’t the cage he could have been in considering the shape that he was in. 

Many of those times the police were called because a neighbor had seen my dad doing something endangering to himself and others, resulting only in a ticket and a ride to the mental health department of the county. The few times he was at the county jail, it was clear that he needed to be taken to a mental health wing, not full-on prison.

But, this time, not the time I talk about this most, was the penultimate time. The damage done was irreversible and it harmed more than him, but it harmed him the most. 

The fact that he even regained some kind of mobility, that he escaped that hospital play-pen style cage, then moved to the same rehab center his own dad had managed to squeeze out of almost 15 years earlier, then back to his own house.

He told me not to worry about him, to keep living my life, to continue to thrive. That’s the spirit I took with me for the three remaining “bonus” years we had left. But I watched as he began to cage himself into his home, and I begin to build a heart cage to prepare myself for the day I would get a call that my dad has left this Earth.

I was in a heart-colored, blood-colored room, living a dream at a  conference of environmental influencers, the day nearly ten years ago I got that call. 

About a week later,  I’m standing in a church for one of the handful of times I would do so over the following ten years. I didn’t anticipate that being at the church of my baptism for my dad’s “homegoing”  would be the funeral of my regular churchgoing, but in practice, it’s functioned like a wake.

I stand on the pulpit to give a small eulogy on behalf of the family before the main pastoral eulogy, but on the side, because women mostly stand to the side in this particular spiritual environment. I reach up and touch my hair, wishing there was more of it, despite the fact that I was taking the journey of making my hair the way I want it back into my hands.

And that journey had opened up the rainbow road I was almost ready to start walking down. 

However, the heart cage sent me back into a panic the day of the call and I put my rainbow flag down. I would not be that kind of proud this particular June of 2013, but at least I had a family right?

But, there’s still the issue of my hair. It’s telling some kind of story and I’m in a Black Baptist church in the south where people have mastered hiding in this way in plain sight.

Salon visits of my tweens and teens were secondary spiritual spaces I witnessed so much Black American womanhood culture of all kinds, and learned what the essence of Black womanhood was, through both the magazine and through the air.

Yet that air and chatter were peppered with warnings that not enough hair or the wrong shape could make me lose membership in this particular sorority. That the worse thing you could ever do was not just look like a man, but stop loving them exclusively. 

Reaching up to my hair that day shot me back in time to that one time my hair had broken off, and seemingly overnight when from super long to super short in my twelfth and thirteenth year of life. Then, I felt alright with this thing called queerness, both as an emerging sexuality and as a way of loving the things I loved and doing the things I did, despite their popularity. 

But, that cage, that horrible cage.

One day, about three more years after my dad ascended to the ancestral plane, I managed to be in isolation, in a land far from my home. I was making a house cage similar to his, and sleeping in the living room the way he was sleeping in the living room. 

I found my way out of the living room, off the unsteady blow-up bed, back to a land of familiarity though, without being forced out of not just it, but this section of the earth.

I thought it was just finding joy in making Pinterest boards of my own image, with my own favorite expressions of hair, clothing, craft, and gender and playing music, and figuring out my place in The West Wing TV show’s universe.

But, I was finding God in myself and they were pleased. 

The Principle Corner

In this section, we step away from the literary expression that opens this newsletter and into the “practical”.

For the last few weeks, I’ve been ranking the spaces I feel most comfortable in, partly because it’s a good context to understand me, and two, it’s been helpful for me to have a prompt to write this newsletter regularly. 

However, the further down I go on this scale, the scarier and sadder it gets. Plus, at the moment, the mission of creating a ranking scale for personal comfort isn’t really registering with what I feel I need to offer the world.

So, I decided to combine healthcare, hair salons, and churches in my story above in a way that you can feel how these things are scary, but I didn’t have to retraumatize myself.

The throughline of it all is my Dad, who we lost to violence during a home invasion in May of 2013. We buried him and held his funeral at our home church, a place that’s to my knowledge still not open and affirming of LGBTQIA+ identities. And one of the first ways I knew I was queer is that I  got different euphoric feelings based on the length and shape of my hair. But, I tamped down the euphoria I was starting to feel and pushed myself back into the cage of the closet because I needed my family more than I needed to be free back then.

This has been the foundation of the feelings part of my personal comfort index, but I am ready to re-root and re-set the foundation.

Next week, I’ll tell you another story about my dad, and in this section,  I’ll help you understand why the example of my Dad informs this particular newsletter work and how I want to show up in the world.

By the Way

Here’s where  I share other articles/videos that were noteworthy for me this week in this section. Apologies in advance for things behind a paywall. Some things I subscribe to and others I grab just before the wall comes down on me. I will start marking these articles and describing them. 

No, I’ll admit that I’m super biased about this Department of Data story and research on who is more likely to wear glasses. And I wish that the bias against those that do, would end. I also wish that Velma would get the love and respect she deserves no matter the adaptation of her story.

***

For those of us building businesses and disgusted with social media and its changes, despite also liking some of it, the difference between building an audience and building a customer base and the encouragement that we can build one or the other without having to build both. Especially with so many media outlets and other entities that depended solely on the main social media platforms and the favorability of their algorithms dying and other companies that abandon their small business ethos and try to make us feel good about it.

***

Honestly, I might go to this fake beach if we get one in DC, but I might as soon go to the real beach again, especially since I  really did enjoy virtual Something in the Water and I’ve really enjoyed these jaunts away to Virginia Beach through this pandemic.

***

And finally, we may not be in a COVID-19  “emergency” as a collective global people, but we are still in a crisis.  Our organizing and our public outreach need to go beyond what it was in 2019 and evolve.

On the Shelf, On the Playlist

My weekly recommendations of books, music, podcasts, and other pop culture

We’re still reading Viral Justice this week, and we will be for the remainder of the month. Reading into the introduction and the first chapter last night really helped me see that writing this newsletter is one good thing. And one good thing can be enough. Even if it’s for me to center myself, for a moment, in a body that was never supposed to exist, in a world that was never supposed to exist for me. And despite all of that, I don’t have to be weathered. 

Music-wise I don’t have anything super new to offer this week, as I’ve been trying to listen to quiet music at night, on my Insight Timer app.

Before You Go

This is our last section, where I have classified advertisements for others along with nudges to donate to crowdfunding and social justice campaigns but I also advertise things that I’m doing that are for sale or for hire. Rates start at $75 a week for a four-week commitment and $150 for just one week. Learn more and get started with your ad! First, another position open with UC San Diego Labor Center, which has updated its salary requirements and due dates for advertising this position.

POSITION OVERVIEW

Position title: Program Director – UC San Diego Labor Center

Salary range: A reasonable salary range estimate for this position is $86,000 – $106,000. Off-scale salaries, i.e., a salary that is higher than the published system-wide salary at the designated rank and step, are offered when necessary to meet competitive conditions. The posted UC academic salary scales
(https://www.ucop.edu/academic-personnel-programs/compensation/2022-23-academic-salary-scales.html

set the minimum pay determined by rank and/or step at appointment. See the salary scale titled, Academic Administrator Series – Fiscal Year for the salary range https://www.ucop.edu/academic-personnel- programs/_files/2022-23/july-2022-salary-scales/t34.pdf.

APPLICATION WINDOWOpen date: May 11, 2023

 Let’s get started with our story of the week, then my weekly section on my Black queer feminist urbanist principles, “The Principle Corner”, then By the Way where I highlight articles and projects I had a hand in or think you should know about.; On the Shelf, On the Playlist where I share book and music recommendations, and finally Before You Go, where I share any ads and announcements if I have them and ways to support this work financially and externally. 

Story of the Week: I’m always at the top of the class, doing my best work, until I blackout.

In the second grade, I couldn’t wait to get to school. 

When I say I couldn’t wait to get to school, I mean that I was loosening my seatbelt in the front passenger seat of our sharp navy blue 1988 Buick Park Avenue as my mom pulled into the parent drop-off area on the west side of Greensboro’s Peck Elementary School.

Most mornings, I would hop out, dash up the sidewalk and into the west side doors of our circa 1920s main building, and head to my classroom. After a day in our school complex, which consisted of that 1920s building with all the K-3 classrooms and the cafeteria, a classroom addition from maybe the 1940s or 1950s,  a library addition from the 1970s, and another darker wing that seemed like it could have been from the 80s,  I would dash down those same steps at and back to the Park Avenue, which would be parked on Van Wert Street, facing Florida Street, ready to take me back the mile or so to our home on Rockett Street.

You would think it would be that dash down those steps that would have been my big facepalm, but no, it was a different one. 

One morning in that second-grade year (1993-1994), we were coming in from the playground, which was behind the teacher’s parking lot and as I was walking in the sidewalk in line, my feet caught a dent in the sidewalk and my face and glasses went flat on the ground. Unfortunately, this fall was witnessed by everyone. As the tears streamed down my face and my nose, now slightly broken throbbed, I insisted on pressing forward anyway. Somehow my glasses survived.

My mom and several teachers asked me if I was ok and told me I could go home if I wanted to. Nope, once I came back to full consciousness, despite my weird feeling, I went back to school.

After all, there was more fun to be had, playing with our class Koosh ball, writing my next book to submit to the 1994 Young Writers Conference at UNCG, and smelling the Mr. Sketch markers that hadn’t become fodder for ants or dried up too quickly. Plus, you couldn’t tell me that my second-grade teacher,  Ms. Washam, wasn’t moonlighting as Vanna White at night on Wheel of Fortune.

But, if you ever wondered why I had a hump on my nose, this is why. And if you wondered how I got to the point where I stopped pressing on even though I didn’t feel good, let’s fast forward about 20 years to the fall of 2012.

I’m laying on my office floor, having blacked out, despite my best efforts to staple every paper, put in every comma on the board member packets, and make sure they sit at their assigned seats.

I, the not quite straight-A student, who still managed to win writing and good citizenship awards in elementary school, had grown up into an adult with a master of public affairs who was on yet another performance improvement plan and who got the feeling that many felt, save my more resourceful classmates, one who helped with getting this job and was on the board, I just couldn’t work hard enough and stay in my proverbial place.

I laid on that office floor, dizzy, head-pounding, vision-blurred, while some upstairs believed I’d skipped out on town to go see my beloved Wolfpack play football that Saturday, rather than be a team player where I was, collecting comp time as my head was in internal pound town.

I want to say that I’ve managed to master workplaces and that they don’t cause me stress, anxiety, and blackouts.

I haven’t. 

And this week, I sit in that discomfort as I hope that one day,  my body will at least stay put together long enough for me to feel truly successful and comfortable. But until then, I’m not getting up unless I have to.

The Principle Corner

Each week, I take  a moment to share how I’ve been building the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist practice and ethic, so we can approach this work from a similar starting point.  In this section over the next few weeks of these themed newsletters, I’ll be reminding you why I’m ranking spaces in the first place and how that’s building up into launching phase one of the usable Black Queer Feminist Urbanist dashboard.  Coming soon, I’ll be sharing some how-tos of living in a place like I do, in a body like mine.

I came up with schools and workplaces being seventh by listing ten places on a vertical scale of 1-10 with 1 being the safest for me and ten being the least.  And I decided to combine the two because as a child, you go to school to allow your parents or caregivers to do things,  then you start learning things to help you become an adult and succeed, most often in a workplace. I also wanted to show how childhood resilience could easily turn into adult resolve and disappointment.

And for reference, Here’s the vertical version of my Personal Space Comfort Index from most to least comfortable. We’re on public transportation this week and next time (as we’re taking next week off)  we’ll be doing schools and workplaces.

Nature Trail/River Kayaking

Bookstores and Libraries

Craft circles, stores, and festivals

Places that sell and serve food (restaurants/grocery stores/bars)

Private residences

Public transportation

Schools and workplaces

Healthcare facilities

Hair Salons

Churches* (I’ll explain this asterisk in a few weeks when I break down why I feel least comfortable in a church but not necessarily in spiritual spaces). 

By the Way

Here’s where  I share other articles/videos that were noteworthy for me this week in this section. Apologies in advance for things behind a paywall. Some things I subscribe to and others I grab just before the wall comes down on me. I will start marking these articles and describing them. 

I know folks have mixed feelings about Tabitha Brown, but she’s also an Afro-Carolinian in the diaspora and she’s making me wish that when I came home to Greensboro for work in 2019, I had nudged the planning department and Action Greensboro who sponsored my visit to do a big screen and celebration in Center City Park, similar to what she’s doing on Saturday, May 5 as she launches her fourth and final  Target collection ( I do own a few of the prior collections and I like what I own). 

***

Jordan Neely should still be here.  I’m just grateful that all the times I was having really hard times in public,  including last week at a crab house and several times on Metro over the years,  I wasn’t deemed worthy of death for just not being able to handle the chaos of the world and having a panic attack. I’m also thankful for scholars like Idil Abdillahi addressing how anti-blackness and sanism intersect and affect us all globally.

***

I  haven’t dug into all of this Scalawag series, but if you want to understand Atlanta’s battle over Cop City and how this is everyone’s battle, this is a great place to start.

On the Shelf, On the Playlist

My weekly recommendations of books, music, podcasts, and other pop culture

This month, I want to build on our read last month of The Viral Underclass with yet another book that asks us to come together in solitary in the wake of mass physical infection and illness — Viral Justice by Ruha Benjamin. I’m just in the introduction and she gets straight to the point of what we need to do to move forward not just from COVID-19, but all that ails us. She also doesn’t hesitate to name environmental racism (and other isms) as a key factor in why we struggle. However, she encourages us thus far to take small steps and communal steps to progress. If you decide to read along with me, let me know. I hate that I missed her talk at last week’s outdoor Waverly Book Festival.

With Les’s surgery, my presence at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival may or may not happen, but regardless, I have a large bag of yarn at home as she recovers and Emily King’s latest album to stream. 

I’ve been a fan of Emily, since 2007, when I was excited to see another sista with a guitar with a major label release. I’ve followed every twist and turn in her career, and it’s been motivating to see her create her own label and then find the right label fit, while controlling her image and sound and I got to tell her this at the Riot Room (RIP) in Kansas City in 2016. I still have our picture from that concert too and the signed album. 

And if things go well, I might be donning a 3M Aura mask and catching her Howard Theater show on May 31 and starting my official goal of purchasing the vinyl or at least CD copies of all the folks I like, in an extension of me supporting art not just with my streams, but with my funds, regardless if I can do an indoor show or not. Regardless, this remix EP of several of her songs off her second most recent album is probably my favorite.

Before You Go

This is our last section, where I have classified advertisements for others along with nudges to donate to crowdfunding and social justice campaigns but I also advertise things that I’m doing that are for sale or for hire. Rates start at $75 a week for a four-week commitment and $150 for just one week. Learn more and get started with your ad! First, another position is open with UC San Diego Labor Center.

Position title: Program Director – UC San Diego Labor Center

Apply now: https://apol-recruit.ucsd.edu/JPF03568/apply 

View this position online: https://apol-recruit.ucsd.edu/JPF03568

POSITION OVERVIEW 

Salary range: A reasonable salary range estimate for this position is $86,000 – $106,000. The posted UC academic salary scales (https://www.ucop.edu/academic-personnel-programs/compensation/2022-23-academic-salary-scales.html) set the minimum pay determined by rank and/or step at appointment. See the salary scale titled, Academic Administrator Series – Fiscal Year for the salary range https://www.ucop.edu/academic-personnel-programs/_files/2022-23/july-2022-salary-scales/t34.pdf.

APPLICATION WINDOW 

Open date: April 18, 2023

Next review date: Monday, May 15, 2023 at 11:59pm (Pacific Time) 
Apply by this date to ensure full consideration by the committee. 

Final date: Thursday, Aug 31, 2023 at 11:59pm (Pacific Time) 
Applications will continue to be accepted until this date, but those received after the review date will only be considered if the position has not yet been filled. 

POSITION DESCRIPTION

The UC San Diego Labor Center (https://laborcenter.ucsd.edu/) invites applications for a Program Director. The center is administratively housed within the Department of Urban Studies and Planning (https://usp.ucsd.edu/). The UC San Diego Labor Center strengthens and expands the labor movement through advanced research, education, and strategic partnerships with workers, labor organizations, policymakers, tribal organizations, and the broader San Diego region. We place the well-being of workers, their families, and their communities at the forefront of our curricula, community engagement, public programs, and publications. We focus attention on the unique socio-economic circumstances of the border region, including large binational and refugee communities and Indigenous nations in the region. Our research offers innovative policy perspectives on work and workers while our worker-centered approach advances the goals of fair working conditions, living wages, and climate, gender, and racial justice.

We seek a program director to lead the founding and growth of the center. With funding through the University of California Worker Rights Policy Initiative (WRPI), the center aims, in the next three years, to: build our capacity for research, policy analysis, education, and public-facing programming; support unions and community organizations to conduct their work more strategically by developing curricula and providing technical assistance; and develop the next generation of labor and community organizers, researchers, and leaders among undergraduate and graduate students by connecting them with labor and community organizations, and training and involving them in community-engaged action research. We work closely with the San Diego-Imperial Counties Labor Council.

The program director is the senior, full-time person building and leading the center in collaboration with a faculty director and managing its dynamic and growing portfolio of research, training, programming, and community collaboration. The program director is responsible for the independent development and coordination of all aspects of center operations, which includes the following core areas.

Strategic Leadership 
Working with the center’s Faculty Leadership Council and the Labor and Community Advisory Board, the program director provides strategic leadership in planning and implementing all research and programming at the center. Represent the center at annual conferences, community-sponsored events, and working groups.

Research and Education Programming 
Working with the Faculty Director, as well as the Labor and Community Advisory Board, the program director will help develop and guide the center’s research, policy analysis, graduate and undergraduate instruction, and public-facing programming. This includes overseeing and initiating, if qualified, research projects in collaboration with community partners, as well as teaching courses and workshops related to labor studies and community-based methods.

Fundraising 
Planning, developing, and initiating strategies for generating resources and/or revenues, including through fundraising, donor relations, and grant and contract proposals.

Public Relations 
Interfacing with the broader community (including the California Labor Federation, San Diego-Imperial Counties Labor Council, unions, worker centers, and community organizations), local and state government officials, foundations, and other community partners. Overseeing all aspects of the center’s communications, including web presence, report review, and external relations.

Event Development and Coordination 
Overseeing all center organized and affiliated events.

Research Administration and Financial Management 
Overseeing and further developing the organizational structure for the center’s financial and business operations, including the generation, management, and reporting of center budgets and oversight of contracts and grants.

Center Management 
Responsible for personnel and program management at the center, including planning and implementing strategic initiatives, supervising and mentoring staff, and ensuring HR needs are met.

CAMPUS INFORMATION 

The University of California, San Diego is an Equal Opportunity/Affirmative Action Employer advancing inclusive excellence. All qualified applicants will receive consideration for employment without regard to race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity, national origin, disability, age, covered veteran status, or other protected categories covered by the UC nondiscrimination policy.

***

Even though I’m probably sitting out Maryland Sheep and Wool and if you haven’t already, consider supporting  LolaBean Yarn Co. and  Dye Hard Yarns. In addition to the spring fundraiser of Knit the Rainbow, a group that works to ensure that knitwear is donated to LGBTQIA+ youth, and raises awareness of queer/trans folks in the yarn and fiber space, is still ongoing. 

For those of you who can and I know it’s tough out here for a lot of us, like our colleague who could still use our support with her partner’s chronic health challenges and of course, Les’s as she recovers at home from her endometriosis surgery,  but an extra $20-$50 in these accounts is takeout money, gas/transit money, a doctor’s appointment, whatever they want, which is more than they had before. 

I’m adding a link for Project N95 to help folks who still want to use personal protective equipment, but are running into financial hardship now that things like tests and high-quality masks are full price and major institutions have decided to move on. I’m also adding a link for the Entertainment Community Fund and for those in WGA to have relief while they take necessary action to get the funding they deserve for being one of the few industries that can’t be erased (at least for now). 

This is how we as planners and makers can practice solidarity and uplift community groups. If not these campaigns, please find some that are closest to you.  I  also assume that you do have the financial means to do so as planners, but I know things can be tough for us. But solidarity is free and that starts with speaking up and sharing when you can.

***

If you want me to show up on your panel, keynote, or podcast, book a complimentary consultation call. I still have open availability for 2023 and 2024.

***

I have created a special landing page, www.theblackurbanist.com/books, that’s not only a home for my upcoming volume, A Black Urbanist Journey to a Queer Feminist Future,  but all those books in the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist canon. Use this link to purchase from my Bookshop, especially if it’s coming up as an error for you. I’m still trying to figure out why that is and how I can fix it in the future.

***

if you want to send me money for quick expenses or like a tip jar, you can Venmo me or buy me a Ko-fi. If you become aPatreon, you can do that on a set monthly basis, along with a special thank you note each week! The GoFundMe is still alive if you want to make large donations quickly and you can subscribe on Substack but know that nothing in this newsletter is going behind a paywall, this is considered a love offering. I do have a special surprise for my Patreon and paid Substack followers, but you’ll be getting early access to a rebooted project I’m doing, that will go public to everyone in June. 

***

And if you need one more reminder to support my textile and fiber work, head over to www.kristpattern.com. 

Until next time,

Kristen

This is the May 12, 2023 edition of The Black Urbanist Weekly with Kristen Jeffers, an email newsletter that highlights the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist thoughts and commentary of me, Kristen E.  Jeffers, an internationally-known urban planner,  fiber designer, and contributing editor. Think of this as an editorial page column, but directly in your email.

 I want to note that this week is the beginning of a few changes in the newsletter format. I’d been doing this personal comfort series, but to be honest, it’s been weighing me down. So in this newsletter, I manage to tie my three scariest/least comfortable places together. I’m still including my By the Way, On the Shelf, and Before You Go sections, but the first two sections will be reconfigured just a bit starting next week and in this week’s Principle Corner, I’ll talk more about what this exercise has brought up in me and what I want to experiment with next.

Also, I will be consolidating platforms. More info on that is to come, but you will still be getting newsletters on Fridays.  Now, my combined story of the week.

Story of the Week: Cages of Healing, Cathedrals of Chains,  Adorned with Terror

They told me that it was the best course for his healing. That we were halfway home when it came to him coming back to life.

But regardless, it was still my dad, in a diaper, in a playpen, behind a net, in a hospital room, while I, at age 25, in 2010, am growing up faster than I expected, despite being a young adult.

It was a soft cage, a cage for his healing, but a cage.

But of course, I was thankful it wasn’t the cage he could have been in considering the shape that he was in. 

Many of those times the police were called because a neighbor had seen my dad doing something endangering to himself and others, resulting only in a ticket and a ride to the mental health department of the county. The few times he was at the county jail, it was clear that he needed to be taken to a mental health wing, not full-on prison.

But, this time, not the time I talk about this most, was the penultimate time. The damage done was irreversible and it harmed more than him, but it harmed him the most. 

The fact that he even regained some kind of mobility, that he escaped that hospital play-pen style cage, then moved to the same rehab center his own dad had managed to squeeze out of almost 15 years earlier, then back to his own house.

He told me not to worry about him, to keep living my life, to continue to thrive. That’s the spirit I took with me for the three remaining “bonus” years we had left. But I watched as he began to cage himself into his home, and I begin to build a heart cage to prepare myself for the day I would get a call that my dad has left this Earth.

I was in a heart-colored, blood-colored room, living a dream at a  conference of environmental influencers, the day nearly ten years ago I got that call. 

About a week later,  I’m standing in a church for one of the handful of times I would do so over the following ten years. I didn’t anticipate that being at the church of my baptism for my dad’s “homegoing”  would be the funeral of my regular churchgoing, but in practice, it’s functioned like a wake.

I stand on the pulpit to give a small eulogy on behalf of the family before the main pastoral eulogy, but on the side, because women mostly stand to the side in this particular spiritual environment. I reach up and touch my hair, wishing there was more of it, despite the fact that I was taking the journey of making my hair the way I want it back into my hands.

And that journey had opened up the rainbow road I was almost ready to start walking down. 

However, the heart cage sent me back into a panic the day of the call and I put my rainbow flag down. I would not be that kind of proud this particular June of 2013, but at least I had a family right?

But, there’s still the issue of my hair. It’s telling some kind of story and I’m in a Black Baptist church in the south where people have mastered hiding in this way in plain sight.

Salon visits of my tweens and teens were secondary spiritual spaces I witnessed so much Black American womanhood culture of all kinds, and learned what the essence of Black womanhood was, through both the magazine and through the air.

Yet that air and chatter were peppered with warnings that not enough hair or the wrong shape could make me lose membership in this particular sorority. That the worse thing you could ever do was not just look like a man, but stop loving them exclusively. 

Reaching up to my hair that day shot me back in time to that one time my hair had broken off, and seemingly overnight when from super long to super short in my twelfth and thirteenth year of life. Then, I felt alright with this thing called queerness, both as an emerging sexuality and as a way of loving the things I loved and doing the things I did, despite their popularity. 

But, that cage, that horrible cage.

One day, about three more years after my dad ascended to the ancestral plane, I managed to be in isolation, in a land far from my home. I was making a house cage similar to his, and sleeping in the living room the way he was sleeping in the living room. 

I found my way out of the living room, off the unsteady blow-up bed, back to a land of familiarity though, without being forced out of not just it, but this section of the earth.

I thought it was just finding joy in making Pinterest boards of my own image, with my own favorite expressions of hair, clothing, craft, and gender and playing music, and figuring out my place in The West Wing TV show’s universe.

But, I was finding God in myself and they were pleased. 

The Principle Corner

In this section, we step away from the literary expression that opens this newsletter and into the “practical”.

For the last few weeks, I’ve been ranking the spaces I feel most comfortable in, partly because it’s a good context to understand me, and two, it’s been helpful for me to have a prompt to write this newsletter regularly. 

However, the further down I go on this scale, the scarier and sadder it gets. Plus, at the moment, the mission of creating a ranking scale for personal comfort isn’t really registering with what I feel I need to offer the world.

So, I decided to combine healthcare, hair salons, and churches in my story above in a way that you can feel how these things are scary, but I didn’t have to retraumatize myself.

The throughline of it all is my Dad, who we lost to violence during a home invasion in May of 2013. We buried him and held his funeral at our home church, a place that’s to my knowledge still not open and affirming of LGBTQIA+ identities. And one of the first ways I knew I was queer is that I  got different euphoric feelings based on the length and shape of my hair. But, I tamped down the euphoria I was starting to feel and pushed myself back into the cage of the closet because I needed my family more than I needed to be free back then.

This has been the foundation of the feelings part of my personal comfort index, but I am ready to re-root and re-set the foundation.

Next week, I’ll tell you another story about my dad, and in this section,  I’ll help you understand why the example of my Dad informs this particular newsletter work and how I want to show up in the world.

By the Way

Here’s where  I share other articles/videos that were noteworthy for me this week in this section. Apologies in advance for things behind a paywall. Some things I subscribe to and others I grab just before the wall comes down on me. I will start marking these articles and describing them. 

No, I’ll admit that I’m super biased about this Department of Data story and research on who is more likely to wear glasses. And I wish that the bias against those that do, would end. I also wish that Velma would get the love and respect she deserves no matter the adaptation of her story.

***

For those of us building businesses and disgusted with social media and its changes, despite also liking some of it, the difference between building an audience and building a customer base and the encouragement that we can build one or the other without having to build both. Especially with so many media outlets and other entities that depended solely on the main social media platforms and the favorability of their algorithms dying and other companies that abandon their small business ethos and try to make us feel good about it.

***

Honestly, I might go to this fake beach if we get one in DC, but I might as soon go to the real beach again, especially since I  really did enjoy virtual Something in the Water and I’ve really enjoyed these jaunts away to Virginia Beach through this pandemic.

***

And finally, we may not be in a COVID-19  “emergency” as a collective global people, but we are still in a crisis.  Our organizing and our public outreach need to go beyond what it was in 2019 and evolve.

On the Shelf, On the Playlist

My weekly recommendations of books, music, podcasts, and other pop culture

We’re still reading Viral Justice this week, and we will be for the remainder of the month. Reading into the introduction and the first chapter last night really helped me see that writing this newsletter is one good thing. And one good thing can be enough. Even if it’s for me to center myself, for a moment, in a body that was never supposed to exist, in a world that was never supposed to exist for me. And despite all of that, I don’t have to be weathered. 

Music-wise I don’t have anything super new to offer this week, as I’ve been trying to listen to quiet music at night, on my Insight Timer app.

Before You Go

This is our last section, where I have classified advertisements for others along with nudges to donate to crowdfunding and social justice campaigns but I also advertise things that I’m doing that are for sale or for hire. Rates start at $75 a week for a four-week commitment and $150 for just one week. Learn more and get started with your ad! First, another position open with UC San Diego Labor Center, which has updated its salary requirements and due dates for advertising this position.

POSITION OVERVIEW

Position title: Program Director – UC San Diego Labor Center

Salary range: A reasonable salary range estimate for this position is $86,000 – $106,000. Off-scale salaries, i.e., a salary that is higher than the published system-wide salary at the designated rank and step, are offered when necessary to meet competitive conditions. The posted UC academic salary scales
(https://www.ucop.edu/academic-personnel-programs/compensation/2022-23-academic-salary-scales.html

set the minimum pay determined by rank and/or step at appointment. See the salary scale titled, Academic Administrator Series – Fiscal Year for the salary range https://www.ucop.edu/academic-personnel- programs/_files/2022-23/july-2022-salary-scales/t34.pdf.

APPLICATION WINDOWOpen date: May 11, 2023

This is The Black Urbanist Weekly with Kristen Jeffers, an email newsletter that highlights the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist thoughts and commentary of me, Kristen E.  Jeffers, an internationally-known urban planner,  fiber designer, and contributing editor. Think of this as an editorial page column, but directly in your email.

 Let’s get started with a few words of reflection from me, then my weekly section on my Black queer feminist urbanist principles, “The Principle Corner”, then By the Way where I highlight articles and projects I had a hand in externally.; On the Shelf, On the Playlist where I share book and music recommendations, and finally Before You Go, where I share any ads and announcements if I have them and ways to support this work financially and externally. 

The grocery store used to scare me. 

And no, I’m not talking about three years ago when we first went into COVID-19 lockdown, but when I was younger, I thought all these people were staring at me and how weird I was.

As much as I love the mall now, I felt the same way up in there too.

However, and this should have been a clue, I never felt nervous at the fabric store. Well, other than when it came time to cut fabric or use the actual sewing machine. But my body was never an issue and after all, this was a space celebrating creativity, especially for femme-presenting folks. (This was the 1990s, we were just starting to do better about this in the South, only to reverse course in so many ways).

And at Borders in the mid-1990s, there was always another quirky nerdy, even Black, child sitting around and reading just like me every Tuesday and Thursday night that my dad would take me, so I wouldn’t have to spend all my time at the fabric store where my mom worked 

Once I realized my hair wasn’t going to fall out, and I had a stylist that wanted my hair to grow and thrive,  I started to relax at my hair salon.

It was ok to step in a little mud and frizz out my hair on the nature trails because I was gradually being reminded that I too belong in natural spaces. After all, we all came from the Earth!

Coming out fully gave me a larger voice in matters and spaces of gender and sexuality.

Likewise with spiritual spaces, but depending on the denomination and their commitment to justice and liberation, that can still be a fraught environment.

Work and school can also be hit or miss.

And as much as I know many of you trust my judgment and would make a space better anyway, just because I told you I needed you too, sometimes, we need the kinds of measurements that we can easily distill and use to convince others to make our spaces welcoming.

It’s also how we de-marginalize ourselves so that instead of being history and history alone, we have a role in the present times, exactly where we need to be and nowhere else.

So, are you ready to measure better with me? Let’s go and scroll.

The Principle Corner

Each week, I’m taking a moment to share how I’ve been building the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist practice and ethic, so we can approach this work from a similar starting point.  This week, I wanted to pause with the specific principles and talk a little more about this Black Queer Feminist Index I’m shaping.

So, I opened up the newsletter with that thought because the big drop this week is my new measure. Introducing the Personal Space Comfort Index.  How does it work?

I created 10 space types and I ranked them from one-ten based on one being the least comfortable and 10 being the most comfortable. Sadly, the table is only rendering in some platforms, but not others and I found this out just before I pushed send on Friday afternoon (today).

Be patient with me, we will have an index because we absolutely need a measurement.

By the Way

Here’s where  I share other articles/videos that were noteworthy for me this week in this section. Apologies in advance for things behind a paywall. Some things I subscribe to and others I grab just before the wall comes down on me. I will start marking these articles and describing them. 

First,  I really appreciate reading how other urbanists, architects, and planners of color are reckoning with how this work has oppressed us, yet taking it back in ways that can heal us.  This architecture firm is one of many and I appreciate their candid thoughts on why it’s harder for us to start and sustain design firms as Black folks.

It’s especially relevant to think about how much control in what we are building as last Sunday I called home to my mom and she told me that Smith Homes, the housing project I spent my first nine years living with my mom and dad adjacent to, and several years visiting my dad in, until his untimely death almost a decade ago, is now being torn down. 

And not just bulldozed for replacement housing, of which I’m not sure the terms, but used as a training facility by the Greensboro Police and Fire departments. This was reported on back in November and December, but I was super busy and I didn’t make it to North Carolina in person then after all as I had hoped. 

Between this and the well-meaning, but off-base execution of the temporary tiny homes and safe sleeping lot for cars, I feel like my childhood home continues to slip away. No amount of Boomeranging will bring my dad and the lives and community back that seem to require one to have a certain salary or affiliation, even in my mid-sized hometown in the South. Plus, what will come of the community efforts to end violence and provide resources in these areas as the replacement housing is at least five years away, and there’s no guarantee that even if everyone is eligible to come back, they will. 

And this news comes to me as we continue to process the aftermath of yet another fire at the apartment complex in Silver Spring, Maryland now known as Arrive Silver Spring.  My friend and GGWash colleague Dan Reed spent several key childhood years in this building under another name and has broken down how this building came to be and every single vein of problems it has, past and present. They also manage to slide in their personal story in the most perfect way as they always do when they write about their life vis-a-vis urbanism.  

However, Dan’s story was one of my proudest edits thus far as one of GGWash’s contributing editors,  This story, from writer Olubusayo Shabi, is the other. She broke down the promised land myth people put on the Black communities of the DC metro area (which we affectionately call the DMV) and I’m so happy to have ushered in her first professional byline! There will be more! 

Finally, this may have not left Black feminist and queer/trans-Twitter, but yes Alice Walker has clearly and definitely joined the TERF squad. Unpacking everything around this is a whole other newsletter, but I wanted y’all to know that I saw it and it underscores why we have to make this month about gender marginalization and liberation and not just “womanhood”.

On the Shelf, On the Playlist

It’s something about Omar’s The Anthology that can always bring me comfort. Last March Omar’s song Winner popped up in one of my Get Up! Mixes on Apple Music and I ended up going down the entire rabbit hole of the album as it streams on Apple Music (which leaves out a few songs, for reasons I’m assuming are related to samples and contracts). I’ve not been an Omar fan as long as some, I came into the fold with his 2013 record, The Man. However, listening to this retrospective record, in part or whole can completely shift my mood. It got me through anticipation around my surgery last year and as I await if I have to go onto another round, I am happy to soundtrack it with our very early cherry blossoms this year.

Meanwhile, we talked a lot about Greensboro and DC in the last section and I’m digging into I Am Debra Lee, to learn more about one of my elders who made the NC to DC leap, with a whole lot of other places in the middle. And yes, it’s also a media memoir. I also have Jemele Hill’s memoir in the queue and it was an honor to read Dorothy Gillam’s memoirand meet her in person. Living Black woman/ femme-presenting media legends give me life as I both continue to write for you and nurture other writers! Especially as it continues to be hard out here for many of us to do our work and speak up.

Before You Go

This is our last section, where I have classified advertisements for others, but I also advertise things that I’m doing that are for sale or for hire. Rates start at $75 a week for a four-week commitment and $150 for just one week. Learn more and get started with your ad!

Mpact: Transit + Community conference (formerly called Rail~Volution) is inviting you to submit a proposal to speak at the 2023 conference coming to Phoenix, AZ, in November. If you work on transit, connected mobility options, supportive land use & development, share your experience via a proposal. Full information here: https://www.mpactmobility.org/conference/speakers/. 

The deadline to submit is March 31, 2023. 

The conference is known as a place to learn new tools and forge cross-sector connections. It focuses on the whole community built around transit and multimodal investments, from the modes themselves to housing, business and economic development, including the implications for health, safety, equity, sustainability, access to opportunity and overall quality of life. 

To submit a proposal, review the Call for Speakers Information packet, download the worksheet to draft your submission, then submit using an online form. (All the links are on this page: mpactmobility.org/speakers.) Your proposal is an indication that you are willing and able to be in Phoenix for the conference. Speakers can attend for free for the day they are speaking (session schedule will be available in July) or will need to pay the full rate to attend the entire conference. Scholarships are available to people affiliated with community organizations and non-profits. 

The 2023 conference comes at a time when transit and development models are in flux and (in the US) federal infrastructure funding is rolling out. How are your projects or initiatives changing to respond to challenging times? How are you doing things differently to achieve better outcomes for your community? What are specific approaches to reversing disparities? To innovative financing? To more sustainable energy choices? To engaging community members in decision-making? To success in mitigating heat, fires and flood or taking a systemic approach to 

climate change? 

The Call for Speakers for Mpact Transit + Community 2023 is your chance to join the conversation and shape the vision for how our communities move and thrive.

***

Postdoctoral Scholar Fellow – Homelessness Hub

Location: University of California, San Diego

Homelessness Hub, a research entity in the Department of Urban Studies and Planning at UC San Diego, invites applications for a postdoctoral fellow working in the area of homelessness and/or housing precarity.

The official postdoctoral scholar fellowship appointment will be through the UC San Diego Department of Urban Studies and Planning. The postdoctoral scholar will work under the supervision of the Homelessness Hub leadership team: Dr. Jennifer Nations, Dr. Mirle Rabinowitz Bussell and Dr. Leslie Lewis.

Homelessness Hub is focused on research, education, and communications on housing andhomelessness-related topics for San Diego and neighboring regions. Equity and justice areintegral to our work and we center the experiences of individuals with lived experience of homelessness. We are actively expanding our research agenda and will do so by leveraging new and existing collaborations.

A highly qualified postdoctoral scholar is sought to contribute to all aspects of Homelessness Hub’s research process. Position duties include but are not limited to: developing research design and methods; data collection and analysis; writing manuscripts and grant proposals; and mentoring and supervising students and research assistants.

Program: https://homelessnesshub.ucsd.edu

Department: https://usp.ucsd.edu

Salary range: A reasonable salary range estimate for this position is $64,522-$72,000.

APPLY LINK: https://apol-recruit.ucsd.edu/JPF03524

***

If you want me to show up on your panel, keynote, or podcast book a complimentary consultation call. I still have open availability for 2023 and 2024.

***

I have created a special landing page, www.theblackurbanist.com/books, that’s not only a home for my upcoming volume, A Black Urbanist Journey to a Queer Feminist Future,  but all those books in the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist canon.

***

if you want to send me money for quick expenses or like a tip jar, you can Venmo me. If you become a Patreon, you can do that on a set monthly basis, along with a special thank you note each week! The GoFundMe is still alive if you want to make large donations quickly and you can subscribe on Substack, but know that nothing in this newsletter is going behind a paywall, this is considered a love offering. 

***

And if you want to support my textile and fiber work, head over to www.kristpattern.com. 

Until next time,

Kristen

 Let’s get started with our story of the week, then my weekly section on my Black queer feminist urbanist principles, “The Principle Corner”, then By the Way where I highlight articles and projects I had a hand in or think you should know about.; On the Shelf, On the Playlist where I share book and music recommendations, and finally Before You Go, where I share any ads and announcements if I have them and ways to support this work financially and externally. 

Story of the Week: I’m always at the top of the class, doing my best work, until I blackout.

In the second grade, I couldn’t wait to get to school. 

When I say I couldn’t wait to get to school, I mean that I was loosening my seatbelt in the front passenger seat of our sharp navy blue 1988 Buick Park Avenue as my mom pulled into the parent drop-off area on the west side of Greensboro’s Peck Elementary School.

Most mornings, I would hop out, dash up the sidewalk and into the west side doors of our circa 1920s main building, and head to my classroom. After a day in our school complex, which consisted of that 1920s building with all the K-3 classrooms and the cafeteria, a classroom addition from maybe the 1940s or 1950s,  a library addition from the 1970s, and another darker wing that seemed like it could have been from the 80s,  I would dash down those same steps at and back to the Park Avenue, which would be parked on Van Wert Street, facing Florida Street, ready to take me back the mile or so to our home on Rockett Street.

You would think it would be that dash down those steps that would have been my big facepalm, but no, it was a different one. 

One morning in that second-grade year (1993-1994), we were coming in from the playground, which was behind the teacher’s parking lot and as I was walking in the sidewalk in line, my feet caught a dent in the sidewalk and my face and glasses went flat on the ground. Unfortunately, this fall was witnessed by everyone. As the tears streamed down my face and my nose, now slightly broken throbbed, I insisted on pressing forward anyway. Somehow my glasses survived.

My mom and several teachers asked me if I was ok and told me I could go home if I wanted to. Nope, once I came back to full consciousness, despite my weird feeling, I went back to school.

After all, there was more fun to be had, playing with our class Koosh ball, writing my next book to submit to the 1994 Young Writers Conference at UNCG, and smelling the Mr. Sketch markers that hadn’t become fodder for ants or dried up too quickly. Plus, you couldn’t tell me that my second-grade teacher,  Ms. Washam, wasn’t moonlighting as Vanna White at night on Wheel of Fortune.

But, if you ever wondered why I had a hump on my nose, this is why. And if you wondered how I got to the point where I stopped pressing on even though I didn’t feel good, let’s fast forward about 20 years to the fall of 2012.

I’m laying on my office floor, having blacked out, despite my best efforts to staple every paper, put in every comma on the board member packets, and make sure they sit at their assigned seats.

I, the not quite straight-A student, who still managed to win writing and good citizenship awards in elementary school, had grown up into an adult with a master of public affairs who was on yet another performance improvement plan and who got the feeling that many felt, save my more resourceful classmates, one who helped with getting this job and was on the board, I just couldn’t work hard enough and stay in my proverbial place.

I laid on that office floor, dizzy, head-pounding, vision-blurred, while some upstairs believed I’d skipped out on town to go see my beloved Wolfpack play football that Saturday, rather than be a team player where I was, collecting comp time as my head was in internal pound town.

I want to say that I’ve managed to master workplaces and that they don’t cause me stress, anxiety, and blackouts.

I haven’t. 

And this week, I sit in that discomfort as I hope that one day,  my body will at least stay put together long enough for me to feel truly successful and comfortable. But until then, I’m not getting up unless I have to.

The Principle Corner

Each week, I take  a moment to share how I’ve been building the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist practice and ethic, so we can approach this work from a similar starting point.  In this section over the next few weeks of these themed newsletters, I’ll be reminding you why I’m ranking spaces in the first place and how that’s building up into launching phase one of the usable Black Queer Feminist Urbanist dashboard.  Coming soon, I’ll be sharing some how-tos of living in a place like I do, in a body like mine.

I came up with schools and workplaces being seventh by listing ten places on a vertical scale of 1-10 with 1 being the safest for me and ten being the least.  And I decided to combine the two because as a child, you go to school to allow your parents or caregivers to do things,  then you start learning things to help you become an adult and succeed, most often in a workplace. I also wanted to show how childhood resilience could easily turn into adult resolve and disappointment.

And for reference, Here’s the vertical version of my Personal Space Comfort Index from most to least comfortable. We’re on public transportation this week and next time (as we’re taking next week off)  we’ll be doing schools and workplaces.

Nature Trail/River Kayaking

Bookstores and Libraries

Craft circles, stores, and festivals

Places that sell and serve food (restaurants/grocery stores/bars)

Private residences

Public transportation

Schools and workplaces

Healthcare facilities

Hair Salons

Churches* (I’ll explain this asterisk in a few weeks when I break down why I feel least comfortable in a church but not necessarily in spiritual spaces). 

By the Way

Here’s where  I share other articles/videos that were noteworthy for me this week in this section. Apologies in advance for things behind a paywall. Some things I subscribe to and others I grab just before the wall comes down on me. I will start marking these articles and describing them. 

I know folks have mixed feelings about Tabitha Brown, but she’s also an Afro-Carolinian in the diaspora and she’s making me wish that when I came home to Greensboro for work in 2019, I had nudged the planning department and Action Greensboro who sponsored my visit to do a big screen and celebration in Center City Park, similar to what she’s doing on Saturday, May 5 as she launches her fourth and final  Target collection ( I do own a few of the prior collections and I like what I own). 

***

Jordan Neely should still be here.  I’m just grateful that all the times I was having really hard times in public,  including last week at a crab house and several times on Metro over the years,  I wasn’t deemed worthy of death for just not being able to handle the chaos of the world and having a panic attack. I’m also thankful for scholars like Idil Abdillahi addressing how anti-blackness and sanism intersect and affect us all globally.

***

I  haven’t dug into all of this Scalawag series, but if you want to understand Atlanta’s battle over Cop City and how this is everyone’s battle, this is a great place to start.

On the Shelf, On the Playlist

My weekly recommendations of books, music, podcasts, and other pop culture

This month, I want to build on our read last month of The Viral Underclass with yet another book that asks us to come together in solitary in the wake of mass physical infection and illness — Viral Justice by Ruha Benjamin. I’m just in the introduction and she gets straight to the point of what we need to do to move forward not just from COVID-19, but all that ails us. She also doesn’t hesitate to name environmental racism (and other isms) as a key factor in why we struggle. However, she encourages us thus far to take small steps and communal steps to progress. If you decide to read along with me, let me know. I hate that I missed her talk at last week’s outdoor Waverly Book Festival.

With Les’s surgery, my presence at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival may or may not happen, but regardless, I have a large bag of yarn at home as she recovers and Emily King’s latest album to stream. 

I’ve been a fan of Emily, since 2007, when I was excited to see another sista with a guitar with a major label release. I’ve followed every twist and turn in her career, and it’s been motivating to see her create her own label and then find the right label fit, while controlling her image and sound and I got to tell her this at the Riot Room (RIP) in Kansas City in 2016. I still have our picture from that concert too and the signed album. 

And if things go well, I might be donning a 3M Aura mask and catching her Howard Theater show on May 31 and starting my official goal of purchasing the vinyl or at least CD copies of all the folks I like, in an extension of me supporting art not just with my streams, but with my funds, regardless if I can do an indoor show or not. Regardless, this remix EP of several of her songs off her second most recent album is probably my favorite.

Before You Go

This is our last section, where I have classified advertisements for others along with nudges to donate to crowdfunding and social justice campaigns but I also advertise things that I’m doing that are for sale or for hire. Rates start at $75 a week for a four-week commitment and $150 for just one week. Learn more and get started with your ad! First, another position is open with UC San Diego Labor Center.

Position title: Program Director – UC San Diego Labor Center

Apply now: https://apol-recruit.ucsd.edu/JPF03568/apply 

View this position online: https://apol-recruit.ucsd.edu/JPF03568

POSITION OVERVIEW 

Salary range: A reasonable salary range estimate for this position is $86,000 – $106,000. The posted UC academic salary scales (https://www.ucop.edu/academic-personnel-programs/compensation/2022-23-academic-salary-scales.html) set the minimum pay determined by rank and/or step at appointment. See the salary scale titled, Academic Administrator Series – Fiscal Year for the salary range https://www.ucop.edu/academic-personnel-programs/_files/2022-23/july-2022-salary-scales/t34.pdf.

APPLICATION WINDOW 

Open date: April 18, 2023

Next review date: Monday, May 15, 2023 at 11:59pm (Pacific Time) 
Apply by this date to ensure full consideration by the committee. 

Final date: Thursday, Aug 31, 2023 at 11:59pm (Pacific Time) 
Applications will continue to be accepted until this date, but those received after the review date will only be considered if the position has not yet been filled. 

POSITION DESCRIPTION

The UC San Diego Labor Center (https://laborcenter.ucsd.edu/) invites applications for a Program Director. The center is administratively housed within the Department of Urban Studies and Planning (https://usp.ucsd.edu/). The UC San Diego Labor Center strengthens and expands the labor movement through advanced research, education, and strategic partnerships with workers, labor organizations, policymakers, tribal organizations, and the broader San Diego region. We place the well-being of workers, their families, and their communities at the forefront of our curricula, community engagement, public programs, and publications. We focus attention on the unique socio-economic circumstances of the border region, including large binational and refugee communities and Indigenous nations in the region. Our research offers innovative policy perspectives on work and workers while our worker-centered approach advances the goals of fair working conditions, living wages, and climate, gender, and racial justice.

We seek a program director to lead the founding and growth of the center. With funding through the University of California Worker Rights Policy Initiative (WRPI), the center aims, in the next three years, to: build our capacity for research, policy analysis, education, and public-facing programming; support unions and community organizations to conduct their work more strategically by developing curricula and providing technical assistance; and develop the next generation of labor and community organizers, researchers, and leaders among undergraduate and graduate students by connecting them with labor and community organizations, and training and involving them in community-engaged action research. We work closely with the San Diego-Imperial Counties Labor Council.

The program director is the senior, full-time person building and leading the center in collaboration with a faculty director and managing its dynamic and growing portfolio of research, training, programming, and community collaboration. The program director is responsible for the independent development and coordination of all aspects of center operations, which includes the following core areas.

Strategic Leadership 
Working with the center’s Faculty Leadership Council and the Labor and Community Advisory Board, the program director provides strategic leadership in planning and implementing all research and programming at the center. Represent the center at annual conferences, community-sponsored events, and working groups.

Research and Education Programming 
Working with the Faculty Director, as well as the Labor and Community Advisory Board, the program director will help develop and guide the center’s research, policy analysis, graduate and undergraduate instruction, and public-facing programming. This includes overseeing and initiating, if qualified, research projects in collaboration with community partners, as well as teaching courses and workshops related to labor studies and community-based methods.

Fundraising 
Planning, developing, and initiating strategies for generating resources and/or revenues, including through fundraising, donor relations, and grant and contract proposals.

Public Relations 
Interfacing with the broader community (including the California Labor Federation, San Diego-Imperial Counties Labor Council, unions, worker centers, and community organizations), local and state government officials, foundations, and other community partners. Overseeing all aspects of the center’s communications, including web presence, report review, and external relations.

Event Development and Coordination 
Overseeing all center organized and affiliated events.

Research Administration and Financial Management 
Overseeing and further developing the organizational structure for the center’s financial and business operations, including the generation, management, and reporting of center budgets and oversight of contracts and grants.

Center Management 
Responsible for personnel and program management at the center, including planning and implementing strategic initiatives, supervising and mentoring staff, and ensuring HR needs are met.

CAMPUS INFORMATION 

The University of California, San Diego is an Equal Opportunity/Affirmative Action Employer advancing inclusive excellence. All qualified applicants will receive consideration for employment without regard to race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity, national origin, disability, age, covered veteran status, or other protected categories covered by the UC nondiscrimination policy.

***

Even though I’m probably sitting out Maryland Sheep and Wool and if you haven’t already, consider supporting  LolaBean Yarn Co. and  Dye Hard Yarns. In addition to the spring fundraiser of Knit the Rainbow, a group that works to ensure that knitwear is donated to LGBTQIA+ youth, and raises awareness of queer/trans folks in the yarn and fiber space, is still ongoing. 

For those of you who can and I know it’s tough out here for a lot of us, like our colleague who could still use our support with her partner’s chronic health challenges and of course, Les’s as she recovers at home from her endometriosis surgery,  but an extra $20-$50 in these accounts is takeout money, gas/transit money, a doctor’s appointment, whatever they want, which is more than they had before. 

I’m adding a link for Project N95 to help folks who still want to use personal protective equipment, but are running into financial hardship now that things like tests and high-quality masks are full price and major institutions have decided to move on. I’m also adding a link for the Entertainment Community Fund and for those in WGA to have relief while they take necessary action to get the funding they deserve for being one of the few industries that can’t be erased (at least for now). 

This is how we as planners and makers can practice solidarity and uplift community groups. If not these campaigns, please find some that are closest to you.  I  also assume that you do have the financial means to do so as planners, but I know things can be tough for us. But solidarity is free and that starts with speaking up and sharing when you can.

***

If you want me to show up on your panel, keynote, or podcast, book a complimentary consultation call. I still have open availability for 2023 and 2024.

***

I have created a special landing page, www.theblackurbanist.com/books, that’s not only a home for my upcoming volume, A Black Urbanist Journey to a Queer Feminist Future,  but all those books in the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist canon. Use this link to purchase from my Bookshop, especially if it’s coming up as an error for you. I’m still trying to figure out why that is and how I can fix it in the future.

***

if you want to send me money for quick expenses or like a tip jar, you can Venmo me or buy me a Ko-fi. If you become aPatreon, you can do that on a set monthly basis, along with a special thank you note each week! The GoFundMe is still alive if you want to make large donations quickly and you can subscribe on Substack but know that nothing in this newsletter is going behind a paywall, this is considered a love offering. I do have a special surprise for my Patreon and paid Substack followers, but you’ll be getting early access to a rebooted project I’m doing, that will go public to everyone in June. 

***

And if you need one more reminder to support my textile and fiber work, head over to www.kristpattern.com. 

Until next time,

Kristen

This is The Black Urbanist Weekly with Kristen Jeffers for April 28, 2023, an email newsletter that highlights the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist thoughts and commentary of me, Kristen E. Jeffers, an internationally-known urban planner, fiber designer, and contributing editor. Think of this as an editorial page column, but directly in your email.

Let’s get started with our story of the week, then my weekly section on my Black queer feminist urbanist principles, “The Principle Corner”, then By the Way where I highlight articles and projects I had a hand in or think you should know about; On the Shelf, On the Playlist where I share book and music recommendations, and finally Before You Go, where I share any ads and announcements if I have them and ways to support this work financially and externally.

Story of the Week: The chimes of public transportation vehicles remind me that being on transit is both a celebration and a gamble.

On July 4, 2004, my aunt and several of my cousins rode for what felt like forever on the parkways of Fairfax County. Then after miles of tall signs and strip malls and toll booths, we turned at a sign labeled with a squared-off capital M.

Underneath, the words — Metro.

My irritation turned into excitement. Finally, after years of waiting, my barely-an-adult self would be taking a subway to our Nation’s Capital to see more of the sites that had captivated me in our class midnight madness trip months before.

Instead of riding in the comfort of a Holiday Tours company bus, around the monuments, to the steps of the Capitol and Pentagon City Mall all in the span of 24 hours, we’d be parking our car and taking the Orange Line of the Metro.

The day wasn’t all pleasant. I can’t wait to take Metro again with my aunt and go to that very spot at the Federal Triangle station where I had an audible panic attack because I was scared of all the people and my legs hurt.

I take all the blame for my legs hurting because I decided to stand up all the way from the Vienna station to the Smithsonian station.

If you know, you know. My knee still hurts from time to time and I’ve taken a lot more Metro trips since then.

Like when I park our car at Southern Avenue, our current closest station, to come downtown for something or another, and I realize I forgot to eat enough to not feel every curve and bend underneath Southeast DC in route across to Near Northwest DC.

You can say that Les and I had a Green Line love affair, me living at the time near Georgia Avenue-Petworth and her out here, a ten-minute Metrobus ride from Southern Avenue. The commute from Southern Avenue won out due to space exactly four years ago this week. Plus, I got tired of living with pests of all kinds.

However, what’s not a pest is that public transportation exists and works. Maybe one day, we can get rid of all that stinky carpet on Metro. One day, we can convince Congress to never stop funding transit, so we don’t keep making the poorest folks on the system pay the most for not having fare.

And I’ll happily sit on the train, lean back, and cruise underneath the streets of DC.

The Principle Corner

Each week, I take a moment to share how I’ve been building the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist practice and ethic, so we can approach this work from a similar starting point. In this section over the next few weeks of these themed newsletters, I’ll be reminding you why I’m ranking spaces in the first place and how that’s building up into launching phase one of the usable Black Queer Feminist Urbanist dashboard. Coming soon, I’ll be sharing some how-tos of living in a place like I do, in a body like mine.

I came up with public transportation being sixth by listing ten places on a vertical scale of 1–10 with 1 being the safest for me and ten being the least.

I’m still working on how I want to collect this kind of information from you, and how it would work in an interactive dashboard, but for now, just email me your top ten. Let me know if you’d want me to share it in a future edition of this space!

And for reference, Here’s the vertical version of my Personal Space Comfort Index from most to least comfortable. We’re on public transportation this week and next time (as we’re taking next week off) we’ll be doing schools and workplaces.

Nature Trail/River Kayaking

Bookstores and Libraries

Craft circles, stores, and festivals

Places that sell and serve food (restaurants/grocery stores/bars)

Private residences

Public transportation

Schools and workplaces

Healthcare facilities

Hair Salons

Churches* (I’ll explain this asterisk in a few weeks when I break down why I feel least comfortable in a church but not necessarily in spiritual spaces).

By the Way

Here’s where I share other articles/videos that were noteworthy for me this week in this section. Apologies in advance for things behind a paywall. Some things I subscribe to and others I grab just before the wall comes down on me. I will start marking these articles and describing them.

My grandparents adored Harry Belafonte for what he represented to Black folks of their generation. I am inspired by his journey from janitor to artist, without missing a beat as an activist and leader, and mentor. Shout out to Black Film Archive’s Maya Cade for her amazing eulogy of him.

***

Another congratulations and kudos to friend of the newsletter, Assistant Professor of Political Science at John Jay College, City University of New York Dr. Alex J. Moffett-Bateau on the release of her research of ten years on Black women and their political identity formation based on where they live and the violence they experience. I’m very excited for their next batch of research on Black political identity formation as it intersects with disability.

***

Finally, in a recent Baltimore Banner report, several Black Baltimorians talked about leaving the city, because of disinvestment in their neighborhoods and the resultant feelings from that lack of care. I’ve tweeted about a lot this week, but this all ties into feelings of cities across the board not caring about us.

I don’t want to give up, but we can see when builders, elected officials, and others either don’t invest in us or invest in us in ways that don’t set us up for justice and liberation.

I thought moving to another city would help my grief of losing my dad and the depression of having gone through the Great Recession when I left Greensboro in 2015.

What I didn’t realize was the heavy sadness and pain the Great Migration and lingering effects of places that had urban enslavement, severe residential segregation and other classist, ableist, racist, and queer antagonistic policies had on all of America.

I’ve grown up a lot in the past 8 years and it’s why I’m looking forward to more mentoring of folks who are trying to make sense of places, not just to study them, but to live in them.

But, as my colleague Dan Reed says in this GGWash article I edited this week, Townhomes as a housing type, are not the problem in Prince George’s County (or anywhere). We embedded this heartbreaking story from NPR that chronicles the history of racist housing practices that make it easy for us to blame the typology, especially when some builders and funders, and developers do alter how they sell homes. But, we still need shelter and we do have work to do to make sure all housing is not just fair, but just.

On the Shelf, On the Playlist

My weekly recommendations of books, music, podcasts, and other pop culture

Still reading and listening to The Viral Underclass, by Dr. Steven Thrasher. We’re at the point where no one should be shamed for illness, but we should shame those who pathologize things that aren’t diseases and fail to offer treatment for the things that are. It still connects to what we talked about in our last section around tools and intent. But, this empowers me to come to speak to you, week after week, because it’s the right thing to do.

Music-wise, it’s raining this morning and I’m doing some deep work on my platform outside of preparing this newsletter. As of late, Black Pumas self-titled 2019 debut is on repeat for days like this.

My second go-to is St. Paul and the Broken Bones, who have been a key Southern soul emo music go-to since I discovered their Tiny Desk and their first two albums in 2017. They were my first and only solo show at the Anthem in DC in 2018 and I hope to see them again in a safe way soon. Meanwhile, congrats to bandleader Paul Janeway on the birth of their first child, and thank you for gifting them and us Angels in Science Fiction this week!

But back to Black Pumas. What I love about both bands is that soul I feel of being country kids, but with very liberal, urbane visions of the world, tinged with a degree of depression over its direction. I also see this in both versions of Britany Howard’s Jaime and her last full-length with Alabama Shakes, Sound and Color (link goes to the single version).

And of course, Rhiannon Giddens anything, but that should surprise no one as her sound is the specific Greensboro contribution to this subgenre.

However, this southern soul emo (not quite blues, but not quite country and R&B either) is a sound you can find all over the world. I’ll leave you this week with Jamie Woon’s Dedication. It’s the last song on his last album and it’s been 8 years since we’ve heard any music from him. I think that makes the record even more haunting.

Before You Go

This is our last section, where I have classified advertisements for others along with nudges to donate to crowdfunding and social justice campaigns and things that I’m doing that are for sale or for hire. Rates start at $75 a week for a four-week commitment and $150 for just one week. Learn more and get started with your ad!

Free training on data analysis and storytelling for organizations working in urban equitable development

The Equitable Development Data Insight Training Initiative (EDDIT) teaches organizations, non-profits, and local governments in the U.S. and Canada how to use their data and resources to document, reflect, evaluate, and communicate the impacts of their work to stakeholders and communities.

Our skilled data analysis and storytelling experts help organizations reach new audiences using data and resources they already own. We work closely with your organization to create 20–30 hours of personalized modules designed to meet your data and narrative needs. Organizations located in small to mid-sized cities (with populations less than 500,000) are eligible for our Initiative.

We are looking for a wide range of equitable development projects, from a local community garden to a city-wide public transportation plan. If you know an organization who could benefit from free training in data analysis and storytelling, we encourage you to share this Initiative. Let’s build equitable cities together. There is no cost to apply.

Find out more on our website.

The Equitable Development Data Insight Training Initiative (EDDIT) is a collaboration between UC Berkeley Centre for Community Innovation and University of Toronto School of Cities, funded by a $2.2 million (USD) grant from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation.

***

Local Yarn Store Day is also tomorrow and if you haven’t already, consider supporting LolaBean Yarn Co. and Dye Hard Yarns.

In addition, the spring fundraiser of Knit the Rainbow, a group that works to ensure that knitwear is donated to LGBTQIA+ youth, and raises awareness of queer/trans folks in the yarn and fiber space, is still ongoing.

For those of you who can and I know it’s tough out here for a lot of us, like our colleague who could still use our support with her partner’s chronic health challenges and of course, Les’s major endometriosis surgery next week, but an extra $20-$50 in these accounts is takeout money, gas/transit money, a doctor’s appointment, whatever they want, which is more than they had before.

I’m going to encourage you to glance at local GoFundMe/Venmo/CashApp campaigns and donate what you can stand to not have come back to you, to lift the spirits of someone that is having a really hard time paying bills, maintaining healthcare, and building up their livelihood in addition to everything else going on.

This is how we as planners and makers can practice solidarity and uplift community groups. If not these campaigns, please find some that are closest to you.

***

If you want me to show up on your panel, keynote, or podcast, book a complimentary consultation call. I still have open availability for 2023 and 2024.

***

I have created a special landing page, www.theblackurbanist.com/books, that’s not only a home for my upcoming volume, A Black Urbanist Journey to a Queer Feminist Future, but all those books in the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist canon. Use this link to purchase from my Bookshop, especially if it’s coming up as an error for you. I’m still trying to figure out why that is and how I can fix it in the future.

***

if you want to send me money for quick expenses or like a tip jar, you can Venmo me or buy me a Ko-fi. If you become a Patreon, you can do that on a set monthly basis, along with a special thank you note each week! The GoFundMe is still alive if you want to make large donations quickly and you can subscribe on Substack but know that nothing in this newsletter is going behind a paywall, this is considered a love offering. I do have a special surprise for my Patreon and paid Substack followers, but you’ll be getting early access to a rebooted project I’m doing, that will go public to everyone in June.

***

And if you need one more reminder to support my textile and fiber work, head over to www.kristpattern.com.

Until next time,

Kristen

This is The Black Urbanist Weekly with Kristen Jeffers for April 28, 2023, an email newsletter that highlights the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist thoughts and commentary of me, Kristen E. Jeffers, an internationally-known urban planner, fiber designer, and contributing editor. Think of this as an editorial page column, but directly in your email.

Let’s get started with our story of the week, then my weekly section on my Black queer feminist urbanist principles, “The Principle Corner”, then By the Way where I highlight articles and projects I had a hand in or think you should know about; On the Shelf, On the Playlist where I share book and music recommendations, and finally Before You Go, where I share any ads and announcements if I have them and ways to support this work financially and externally.

Story of the Week: The chimes of public transportation vehicles remind me that being on transit is both a celebration and a gamble.

On July 4, 2004, my aunt and several of my cousins rode for what felt like forever on the parkways of Fairfax County. Then after miles of tall signs and strip malls and toll booths, we turned at a sign labeled with a squared-off capital M.

Underneath, the words — Metro.

My irritation turned into excitement. Finally, after years of waiting, my barely-an-adult self would be taking a subway to our Nation’s Capital to see more of the sites that had captivated me in our class midnight madness trip months before.

Instead of riding in the comfort of a Holiday Tours company bus, around the monuments, to the steps of the Capitol and Pentagon City Mall all in the span of 24 hours, we’d be parking our car and taking the Orange Line of the Metro.

The day wasn’t all pleasant. I can’t wait to take Metro again with my aunt and go to that very spot at the Federal Triangle station where I had an audible panic attack because I was scared of all the people and my legs hurt.

I take all the blame for my legs hurting because I decided to stand up all the way from the Vienna station to the Smithsonian station.

If you know, you know. My knee still hurts from time to time and I’ve taken a lot more Metro trips since then.

Like when I park our car at Southern Avenue, our current closest station, to come downtown for something or another, and I realize I forgot to eat enough to not feel every curve and bend underneath Southeast DC in route across to Near Northwest DC.

You can say that Les and I had a Green Line love affair, me living at the time near Georgia Avenue-Petworth and her out here, a ten-minute Metrobus ride from Southern Avenue. The commute from Southern Avenue won out due to space exactly four years ago this week. Plus, I got tired of living with pests of all kinds.

However, what’s not a pest is that public transportation exists and works. Maybe one day, we can get rid of all that stinky carpet on Metro. One day, we can convince Congress to never stop funding transit, so we don’t keep making the poorest folks on the system pay the most for not having fare.

And I’ll happily sit on the train, lean back, and cruise underneath the streets of DC.

The Principle Corner

Each week, I take a moment to share how I’ve been building the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist practice and ethic, so we can approach this work from a similar starting point. In this section over the next few weeks of these themed newsletters, I’ll be reminding you why I’m ranking spaces in the first place and how that’s building up into launching phase one of the usable Black Queer Feminist Urbanist dashboard. Coming soon, I’ll be sharing some how-tos of living in a place like I do, in a body like mine.

I came up with public transportation being sixth by listing ten places on a vertical scale of 1–10 with 1 being the safest for me and ten being the least.

I’m still working on how I want to collect this kind of information from you, and how it would work in an interactive dashboard, but for now, just email me your top ten. Let me know if you’d want me to share it in a future edition of this space!

And for reference, Here’s the vertical version of my Personal Space Comfort Index from most to least comfortable. We’re on public transportation this week and next time (as we’re taking next week off) we’ll be doing schools and workplaces.

Nature Trail/River Kayaking

Bookstores and Libraries

Craft circles, stores, and festivals

Places that sell and serve food (restaurants/grocery stores/bars)

Private residences

Public transportation

Schools and workplaces

Healthcare facilities

Hair Salons

Churches* (I’ll explain this asterisk in a few weeks when I break down why I feel least comfortable in a church but not necessarily in spiritual spaces).

By the Way

Here’s where I share other articles/videos that were noteworthy for me this week in this section. Apologies in advance for things behind a paywall. Some things I subscribe to and others I grab just before the wall comes down on me. I will start marking these articles and describing them.

My grandparents adored Harry Belafonte for what he represented to Black folks of their generation. I am inspired by his journey from janitor to artist, without missing a beat as an activist and leader, and mentor. Shout out to Black Film Archive’s Maya Cade for her amazing eulogy of him.

***

Another congratulations and kudos to friend of the newsletter, Assistant Professor of Political Science at John Jay College, City University of New York Dr. Alex J. Moffett-Bateau on the release of her research of ten years on Black women and their political identity formation based on where they live and the violence they experience. I’m very excited for their next batch of research on Black political identity formation as it intersects with disability.

***

Finally, in a recent Baltimore Banner report, several Black Baltimorians talked about leaving the city, because of disinvestment in their neighborhoods and the resultant feelings from that lack of care. I’ve tweeted about a lot this week, but this all ties into feelings of cities across the board not caring about us.

I don’t want to give up, but we can see when builders, elected officials, and others either don’t invest in us or invest in us in ways that don’t set us up for justice and liberation.

I thought moving to another city would help my grief of losing my dad and the depression of having gone through the Great Recession when I left Greensboro in 2015.

What I didn’t realize was the heavy sadness and pain the Great Migration and lingering effects of places that had urban enslavement, severe residential segregation and other classist, ableist, racist, and queer antagonistic policies had on all of America.

I’ve grown up a lot in the past 8 years and it’s why I’m looking forward to more mentoring of folks who are trying to make sense of places, not just to study them, but to live in them.

But, as my colleague Dan Reed says in this GGWash article I edited this week, Townhomes as a housing type, are not the problem in Prince George’s County (or anywhere). We embedded this heartbreaking story from NPR that chronicles the history of racist housing practices that make it easy for us to blame the typology, especially when some builders and funders, and developers do alter how they sell homes. But, we still need shelter and we do have work to do to make sure all housing is not just fair, but just.

On the Shelf, On the Playlist

My weekly recommendations of books, music, podcasts, and other pop culture

Still reading and listening to The Viral Underclass, by Dr. Steven Thrasher. We’re at the point where no one should be shamed for illness, but we should shame those who pathologize things that aren’t diseases and fail to offer treatment for the things that are. It still connects to what we talked about in our last section around tools and intent. But, this empowers me to come to speak to you, week after week, because it’s the right thing to do.

Music-wise, it’s raining this morning and I’m doing some deep work on my platform outside of preparing this newsletter. As of late, Black Pumas self-titled 2019 debut is on repeat for days like this.

My second go-to is St. Paul and the Broken Bones, who have been a key Southern soul emo music go-to since I discovered their Tiny Desk and their first two albums in 2017. They were my first and only solo show at the Anthem in DC in 2018 and I hope to see them again in a safe way soon. Meanwhile, congrats to bandleader Paul Janeway on the birth of their first child, and thank you for gifting them and us Angels in Science Fiction this week!

But back to Black Pumas. What I love about both bands is that soul I feel of being country kids, but with very liberal, urbane visions of the world, tinged with a degree of depression over its direction. I also see this in both versions of Britany Howard’s Jaime and her last full-length with Alabama Shakes, Sound and Color (link goes to the single version).

And of course, Rhiannon Giddens anything, but that should surprise no one as her sound is the specific Greensboro contribution to this subgenre.

However, this southern soul emo (not quite blues, but not quite country and R&B either) is a sound you can find all over the world. I’ll leave you this week with Jamie Woon’s Dedication. It’s the last song on his last album and it’s been 8 years since we’ve heard any music from him. I think that makes the record even more haunting.

Before You Go

This is our last section, where I have classified advertisements for others along with nudges to donate to crowdfunding and social justice campaigns and things that I’m doing that are for sale or for hire. Rates start at $75 a week for a four-week commitment and $150 for just one week. Learn more and get started with your ad!

Free training on data analysis and storytelling for organizations working in urban equitable development

The Equitable Development Data Insight Training Initiative (EDDIT) teaches organizations, non-profits, and local governments in the U.S. and Canada how to use their data and resources to document, reflect, evaluate, and communicate the impacts of their work to stakeholders and communities.

Our skilled data analysis and storytelling experts help organizations reach new audiences using data and resources they already own. We work closely with your organization to create 20–30 hours of personalized modules designed to meet your data and narrative needs. Organizations located in small to mid-sized cities (with populations less than 500,000) are eligible for our Initiative.

We are looking for a wide range of equitable development projects, from a local community garden to a city-wide public transportation plan. If you know an organization who could benefit from free training in data analysis and storytelling, we encourage you to share this Initiative. Let’s build equitable cities together. There is no cost to apply.

Find out more on our website.

The Equitable Development Data Insight Training Initiative (EDDIT) is a collaboration between UC Berkeley Centre for Community Innovation and University of Toronto School of Cities, funded by a $2.2 million (USD) grant from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation.

***

Local Yarn Store Day is also tomorrow and if you haven’t already, consider supporting LolaBean Yarn Co. and Dye Hard Yarns.

In addition, the spring fundraiser of Knit the Rainbow, a group that works to ensure that knitwear is donated to LGBTQIA+ youth, and raises awareness of queer/trans folks in the yarn and fiber space, is still ongoing.

For those of you who can and I know it’s tough out here for a lot of us, like our colleague who could still use our support with her partner’s chronic health challenges and of course, Les’s major endometriosis surgery next week, but an extra $20-$50 in these accounts is takeout money, gas/transit money, a doctor’s appointment, whatever they want, which is more than they had before.

I’m going to encourage you to glance at local GoFundMe/Venmo/CashApp campaigns and donate what you can stand to not have come back to you, to lift the spirits of someone that is having a really hard time paying bills, maintaining healthcare, and building up their livelihood in addition to everything else going on.

This is how we as planners and makers can practice solidarity and uplift community groups. If not these campaigns, please find some that are closest to you.

***

If you want me to show up on your panel, keynote, or podcast, book a complimentary consultation call. I still have open availability for 2023 and 2024.

***

I have created a special landing page, www.theblackurbanist.com/books, that’s not only a home for my upcoming volume, A Black Urbanist Journey to a Queer Feminist Future, but all those books in the Black Queer Feminist Urbanist canon. Use this link to purchase from my Bookshop, especially if it’s coming up as an error for you. I’m still trying to figure out why that is and how I can fix it in the future.

***

if you want to send me money for quick expenses or like a tip jar, you can Venmo me or buy me a Ko-fi. If you become a Patreon, you can do that on a set monthly basis, along with a special thank you note each week! The GoFundMe is still alive if you want to make large donations quickly and you can subscribe on Substack but know that nothing in this newsletter is going behind a paywall, this is considered a love offering. I do have a special surprise for my Patreon and paid Substack followers, but you’ll be getting early access to a rebooted project I’m doing, that will go public to everyone in June.

***

And if you need one more reminder to support my textile and fiber work, head over to www.kristpattern.com.

Until next time,

Kristen