Sixteen in Jamaica Queens

Sweet Alaina, her life is double dutch, Greg, school and back home. She’s sixteen and lives in Queens.

69-Year-Old Subway Singer

“My name is Daniel Smalls”, is how he introduced himself. He sat there in a dengy green jacket singing with his mouth twisted to the side. He looked unfortunate, but once I began interviewing and taking photos of Danny Smalls, I was reminded — never judge a book by it’s cover.

Being African in America

Fatoumata and Aminata are new around here. Listen to what theay have to say about how they get along with some of their African-American Peers.

“God, You are my Insurance:” An Immigrant Speaks

Undocumented Immigrants were excluded from the healthcare reform. Manuel, a father in the Bronx, is one of them. Here is his story.

Im in Love with a Mourid in New York City

By Me, Tracy Thompson

The followers an unusual West African sect of Islam called the Baye Fall celebrated their religion’s founder, Cheikh Amadou Bamba, in Harlem on Tuesday with a 15-block parade.

While waiting for the march to start, men sat in circles chanting songs of thanks, remembering Bamba. Others were dressed in colorful “boubou garb,” the Wolof term for African clothing. Women gathered in sections wearing white, which symbolizes peace in Islam. Some women wore white “hijab,” a headscarf worn by Muslim women, although women are not forced to wear hijab in this movement. Children in tiny boubou outfits stood observing the mass of people.

“People have come from all over today. They come from Washington, North Carolina, Atlanta and Chicago,” said Lamp Fall, a leader within the movement in New York City.

The Baye Fall movement appears to represent a different kind of Islam. Some reports show that its members do not have to pray and they can smoke freely, although some Mouride members avoid these questions and others provide different answers.

“There is nothing in Chiekh Amadou Bamba’s writings or teachings that tells a Mouride not to pray. We are Muslim first. Prayer was very important to Bamba,” said Serigne Djigal, a leader within the Murid Islamic Community in America and a teacher of English at the Al-Azhar Center of Excellence in Senegal.

The men of the Baye Fall resemble Rastafarians, with their long, thick dreadlocks and their red, green, yellow and black and white patchwork clothing.

The Baye Fall movement is a part of the Mouride Brotherhood. Mouridism was founded in Senegal in 1883 by Bamba, a mystical, Muslim cleric who is known for his poetry and tracts on Quranic study. Mouridism is described as an African adaptation of Islam and some Mourides refer to it as “black Islam.”

Ibrahim Fall is known as one of Bamba’s most illustrious followers and led all of the manual labor in Mouridism during his time. He established the Baye Fall movement and was granted permission by Bamba to substitute prayer with hard work, eliminating the five daily prayers, a West African Islam report from Reuters said.

Tuesday’s walk began after 10 a.m. and Senegalese men played drums while singing “La ilaha ilala,” meaning there is no God but Allah in Arabic. The men drumming to this tune and drenched in sweat traveled from 110th St. to 125th St.

“Dancing is a way of giving thanks,” said Badou Diagne, one of the men dancing and singing during the march.

The march was organized by the Murid Islamic Community in America, a non-profit organization based in New York that supports the Murids in America.

The movement has come a long way in its relationship with New York City authorities. In 1988 one of Bamba’s sons raised the suspicion of the police when he was greeted at John F. Kennedy Airport by followers who bowed and sat on the floor as he passed.

As a result authorities began investigating the religion said Aladji Faye, a member of the Baye Falls who participated in the march. Once the authorities realized Bamba caused no threat, however, they welcomed him, Faye said, and eventually David Dinkins, Manhattan borough president at the time, issued a decree to honor Amadou Bamba’s achievements

The New York City Police Department peacefully controlled traffic during the parade. “We are not here to enforce rules. So far it’s a peaceful day. It’s a good day for us officers,” said Deputy Inspector Rodney Harrison, Commanding Officer of the 28th Precinct in Harlem.

After the parade, marchers went to lunch at Amadou Bamba’s former home, and later a lecture was held at the United Nations, where the speaker Mbaye Pekhe lectured about Mouridism and Cheikh Bamba.

With massive sized portraits of Bamba and other leaders raised high above the crowds, and their expression of love for the religion, the Senegalese brought a piece of Senegal to New York City.

Hair Weaves And The Men Behind It

I do indulge in some quality hair weave when my fro has had enough and my look is played.  If you know Lugo’s you won’t be surprised to know that the men who actually create the expensive, smooth and silky European-like look here are all Dominican. These men in particular are from Santo Domingo….For you I am going back for an interview. Take this for now…and you and you and you.

Strippers

“Up Next on the Pole”
By a black girl named Tracy Thompson

Lap dances are $20 at Sin City. The dancer walks over to where I am sitting and without saying a word aggressively presses her half naked body up against the male seated to my right. You barely notice her black lingerie. It blends in well with the dark atmosphere of the club. Black thick straps cross her buttocks, holding her underwear in place. She is a petite girl but high heeled, chunky soled shoes add about five inches to her height. She keeps her wads of cash in a small gold bag hanging from her hand. The man shoos her away.
“He told me to dance for you,” a voice yelled in my ear behind the music of Jay-Z and Alicia Keys’ “New York.” Malani is her stage name, but while she began strip teasing for me, she introduced herself as Dava.
Sin City, a gentleman’s nightclub, is hidden in an industrial area in the Mott Haven section of the South Bronx. Most of the strippers that dance here are Black and Hispanic. Thursday is amateur night. Only a 15-minute walk from Yankee stadium, the club is a popular post-game attraction for male baseball fans. Huge, authoritative bouncers dressed in all black guard the front door. “Do you work here,” a bouncer asked me, understandably confused as he checked my oversized backpack. “No, I said, “I’m meeting someone,” hoping to establish that I don’t frequent strip clubs. This was my second trip in one week. As I made my way past the security check and into the main room, I planted myself at the bar until Malani appeared wearing a blue and gold halter-top with matching tiny underwear. She sat beside me and comfortably began expressing herself to me. Feeling pressured by the bartender, I ordered two drinks, a Corona for me and a Long Island iced tea for her.
“Up next on the pole, Maaaaaalani, “ the unseen DJ bellows rhythmically over a microphone. “Lets do it Malani!”
“I gotta hustle a little bit,” says Malani, and climbs onto a small circular platform. The DJ awkwardly switches the music from R&B to old school Hip Hop, but this stripper doesn’t miss a beat. She immediately takes off her top and inches up the pole then spins around it acrobatically and slides down. She has been dancing for less than three minutes and already has approximately $20 under her feet. As men approach to stick bills in her black thong underwear, she widens her legs while humping the floor on her knees. Her astrological sign, Pisces, is tattooed on her lower back as well as black designs down the side of her body. As she twirls around the golden pole her expression is serene, undisturbed by being almost naked. A black thong covers her pelvic area but her breasts are fully exposed.
The 23-year-old exotic entertainer dances three nights a week from 6p.m. to 4a.m. and brings in, on a good night, between $1,000 and $1,500. Even on a bad night, Malani will still bank close to $500. She has been a dancer at Sin City for six months and loves the attention she gets on stage. The way she is expressing herself on the pole tonight shows how much she enjoys her line of work.
Malani’s short Panamanian frame is curved to perfection. An ex–high school cheerleader from Staten Island, she is now the mother of a one-year-old daughter. She wears long crinkled black hair. As our conversation continues around a circular table, she stares at my kinky afro. “ I love your hair, she says” “When I was pregnant I cut my perm out and I have been natural since.” Her current hairstyle is a lace front wig, popular with black women. Lace fronts, first used on cancer patients and naturally balding women, are wigs that have a small piece of lace mesh attached to the front of the head with glue, making it easier than a conventional weave to change hairstyles. On this night Malani wears her hair pulled tightly in a thin ponytail. “I used to work as a dental assistant, you know, making enough money to support myself.”
When Malani came off of maternity leave in 2008, her hours were cut and money became scarce. Her job as a dental assistant could not support her any longer. She refused to rely on public assistance and since she was no stranger to stripping, having danced previously at CityScapes on Long Island and at other spots, she went back into the business. “The fastest way to make money is to dance…so….”
The Yankees are leading in game 2 against the Phillies in the World Series, but no one is here because of the game. The dancers are plenty and nine tables are occupied, but only half of the girls are making money. Some dancers are calmly sitting at the bar eyeing down potential patrons. Others are standing in groups talking with one another, blending in with the fully dressed customers.
According to a New York City State law, dancing totally nude where alcohol is served is against the law. Only a woman’s breast can be revealed. “ Taking off your underwear in here is prostitution!” Malani said. “But some girls still sneak and do it.” In 1998, as a part of his “quality of life” initiatives, then Mayor Rudy Giuliani, tried to shutdown more than 50 strip clubs and adult video stores, due to their proximity to churches and schools. Giuliani at that time told the New York Times that his campaign was success. Among the 144 adult entertainment businesses that were operating in July 1999, 21 had voluntarily closed, 11 had been temporarily closed, 2 had been permanently closed, and 6 had transformed into different types of businesses.
Malani rejoins me for another drink. “I have to drink to make money,” she says. When I ask her why, she explains the importance of being under the influence of alcohol to dull her senses to the activities surrounding her at the club, especially when she is called into the club’s VIP room. She entertains privately here after her patrons agree to pay an extra $300 on top of the initial cost. Refraining from having sex with guys, she pleases them in other ways. “Some men go to VIP to do coke,” she explains. “You can tell the submissive men, they like to be hit, spit on, be slapped. All that shit,” “White men are the most submissive. Black men tell me my butt is not big enough.”
Malani leaves me again to search for patrons. She and Ocean, a long time friend who danced with her at CityScapes are making their rounds. They have caught the attention of two black men and with her back straight and legs crossed Malani is now sitting on the lap of one of the men, giggling in his face.
Some of the girls at Sin City are aggressive and belligerent. “The girls here hang in cliques, just like in high school. They are all catty,” says Malani. “The girl that makes the most money in a clique is usually the leader. She says her crew separates themselves from such drama – Asia, Apple, Pocahontas and Ocean. “The older women here are jealous of the younger girls, because we make all the money,” she says. Older women who have been at the club longer sometimes sneak and steal money from underneath the feet of the top girls, Malani says.
Malani agrees that dancers have a bad reputation. But in her opinion there is a significant difference between a dancer and a stripper. “A dancer is smart. She has skills and a stripper is the one who gets caught up in the lifestyle.” She feels totally separate from this lifestyle. It’s reputation, she says, comes from other strip joints like Mr. Wedges, also located in the Bronx, where the girls are outright freaks, letting men defile them in any way. “Sin City is classy,” she says. “That’s why I came here.”
At Sin City tonight Malani is the top girl, racking the most in dollars and hustling the hardest. There isn’t an idle moment for her. She understands how to cat walk the floor and seductively move her body while grinning in the face of men. The skill of pressuring men and women into spending their money is now second nature to her. My watch tells me it’s 8p.m. and with eight more hours ahead of her, the night for Malani has just begun.

The way we talk

I speak with a slang, I am from the South. Educated, but I speak best when I speak from the heart, and speaking from the heart, for me, includes slang. This world has been designed to look down on those who do not speak intelligently. What is speaking intelligently? Some say it’s when you use big words enunciating them clearly. In one of my classes, the professor asked “what can someone’s voice tell you about them”. My classmates yelled out random nothings. “You can tell if they are poor or rich”, my professor said, which made no sense to me, but never outshine the master “48 Laws of Power”. Unfortunately, you are judged by the way you speak — how many words you can conjure up and how they come out of your mouth. I’m not saying that this is all wrong. It just seems that this is the only way…but why? I’m to old for this rule…blow me.

Bettin’s House: After the Earthquake

I showered outside and Bettina was adamant about me hurrying. Two sheets were attached to a wall to provide privacy but no one trusted the wall. It was high, but people could easily walk and peer over. I was smelly from the bus ride from Santo Domingo. Bettina brought a bucket of water and soap. She left. I was no stranger to bathing outside, having done so in the mountains of Mt. Kenya and in Kenya’s Masi Mara village, but I was on the side of a house about to bathe in a narrow walkway with only two sheets and a brick topless wall blocking me. I was afraid but fear gets us nowhere so I brushed it off. I washed the important spots quickly.

Meet Bettina I am in the process of trying to organize sending supplies and necessities to Bettina and her village. If you are interested in helping me figure this out – I have no idea on where to start – say something. Watch yourself…

The Experience: This Will Take You There

I heard this song once while I was hustling, stanky, sweating in Santo Domingo to get to Haiti. From that one play it stayed in my mind and now — I think I will name my first son Luis. Thank you.