I walk down the narrow basement stairs with ease, but before I can cross the entryway into the warm candlelit temple, the oungan, a male priest in the Haitian Vodou tradition, hands me a ceramic jarContinue reading
Two rows of barbed wire fencing can’t block the screams that escape from behind the barred windows at the jail. “Help us!” the men shout from inside. The sweltering sun beams down on the two-story brick building, heating itsContinue reading
Editor’s note: This is the second of two essays The Root is publishing in partnership with Caught, a new podcast from WNYC Studios about the juvenile-justice system. We hope to generate a conversation about how we can support ratherContinue reading
Editor’s note: This is the first of two essays The Root is publishing in partnership with Caught, a new podcast from WNYC Studios about the juvenile-justice system. We hope to generate a conversation about how we can support rather thanContinue reading
As watchmen of the community, Bed-Stuy natives are the best narrators of gentrification’s outcomes. Two of the first things they point to are the disappearance of familiar faces and a shift in the neighborhood’s culturalContinue reading
From my early days as a wide-eyed Bed-Stuy newbie, I recall the brigade of police officers that manned the street corners daily. Clad in blue, with their batons resting and guns holstered, they said, “WeContinue reading
While mulling over my vision for the future of this column, an associate of mine, who we’ll call "Jim," asked to tag along as my photographer. I immediately thought of all the powerful images heContinue reading
