Step back, doors closing.

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 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.

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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.

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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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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. 

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

Until next time,

Kristen