At most seminars you are asked, “What makes a strong leader?” A strong leader is someone who can see the big picture and guide a community down the brightest path. I am what they call a “rising leader”: a rising leader is someone who is committed to learning how to be that guide while actively training to take the reins of the great leaders before them. But what happens when you’re on the rise, you’ve just learned how to use your compass, and a global pandemic strikes? What happens is that you are as lost as the person beside you, the only difference being that they didn’t claim to have the skill set to guide you to safety.
But don’t worry: you are a rising leader, and as such you know to forge ahead and take this day by day. You stay calm under pressure and find the silver lining: now you’ll have more time to get to know incoming artists! You’ll finally be able to sit down and curate the next conversation series! Planning fundraising events will be a breeze! And don’t worry, rising leader: any day now things will be back to business as usual, the only difference being that we will be more grateful as a society for our in-person connections.
Five weeks later.
You are quarantined with your roommate and her boyfriend because you shortsightedly agreed he could stay while we “waited this thing out,” going to the grocery store triggers a panic attack, you can’t seem to stay awake (much less complete your silver lining to-do list), and your eye twitches at the sound of the word “zoom.” Oh, and, you purchased “Dewalt Carpentry and Framing Complete Handbook” in case you need to make a career change because directing plays that investigate collective freedom doesn’t seem to be a priority right now.
How did you get here? And when did your career – no, your life's calling - become…“non-essential”? You’re the Co-Director of JACK, a Brooklyn performance and civic space fueled by experiments in art and activism. You know, JACK: the organization founded on the notion that the collaboration of artists and neighbors can bring about a just and vibrant society? It’s a creative space fueled by the untold stories and unearthed dreams of New Yorkers. If those aren't allowed in, what will become of it?
SMASH CUT TO: High stakes brainstorm session with JACK Founder and Co-Director, Alec Duffy.
Covid-19 has shut down months of programming, but there is still an empty building, and no schedule to abide by; a New York rarity. If we could come up with the right idea, JACK could continue to serve the community without risking their health. We sent a call out and received a response from our very own board member: activist Brittany Williams with the We Keep Us Safe Abolitionist Network.
Initially based out of Brownsville, We Keep Us Safe is a BIPOC-led mutual aid group that grew out of the No New Jails NYC movement. Launched in 2019 by Samantha Johnson in response to the needs of NYCHA (New York City Housing Authority) residents primarily in the Fort Greene area, Johnson leads the effort to procure and deliver food to those most vulnerable. After losing their Brownsville location, we offered JACK as a home base where We Keep Us Safe could continue storing, organizing, and delivering food in Brooklyn. Within two weeks of our introduction, We Keep Us Safe moved into JACK, turning our arts-centered space into a mutual aid hub fueled by people power.
JACK cannot present any artistic experiments for the foreseeable future. There will be no performances where artists push the boundaries of their form, no conversations on reparations or racial equity, at least in person. However, each week an increasing number of volunteers will aid over 150 families in the neighborhood, which in a way is its own kind of art. Inside JACK you’ll witness the seamless choreography of the assembly line, each package specifically curated for its destination; the temporary shelves that shifted the spatial setup of the entire operation, momentarily sending you back to your last tech rehearsal; and the soundscape you believe to be an expertly curated playlist but come to learn it’s just Samantha’s iPhone on shuffle. This production has no running time but whenever we reach the credits, you will see the names of countless activists, organizers, neighbors, and volunteers who keep the space alive, pandemic or not.
