the kickback nyc
Picture it: it’s late 2019 and no one in New York City is aware of the fast approaching pandemic. A Black queer non-binary person from the midwest just moved here hoping to have new, fulfilling, and expansive experiences. They’re excited because it’s always been a dream of theirs and it’s wild to see their dreams come through.
Months go by and they’ve had little time to explore the city due to work. New York City is a great, albeit expensive, place to live. Social media shows everyone at dinner, at parties, at the beach (the “real” beach), and everywhere else. They want to do all these things but, outside of the time work takes, they’ve found it difficult to find like-minded people. The kind of people who are also searching for connections, who don’t see their kindness as suspicious, who can explain to them why apartments here don’t come with standard blinds and window screens (and yet everyone has their windows wide open).
And then the pandemic entered the chat. To say the first year in a new city during their first (only?) pandemic was a ride would be a huge understatement. The barriers to meeting people prior to the pandemic were insignificant in comparison to those that came after. Before, they used social media apps, attended community events, connected with coworkers, and found events that fit their interests. During that time they were adjusting to the move and doing their best not to get lost every time they left home. When the pandemic started the inability to make in-person connections stunted their ability to experience people, places, and things. How could they work through adjusting to a new culture and way of living when they barely spoke the language of the city, let alone its residents?
Jokes aside, that person is me. I’m currently in my fourth year here and meeting people has gotten better, but not by much. While talking with other Black transplants I’ve learned my experiences aren’t unique. No matter the reason for moving here, if they didn’t already have a community of family/friends in place before coming, they’ve found most connections to be short-term and transactional in nature.
There are also people who did have those connections, but they’re still searching for people and places in which they feel they belong. And that’s what I mean when I talk about the difference in culture. Even with the many similarities of Black culture that exists here due to the city’s large population of Black people from across the Diaspora, regionally speaking, the differences are difficult to overlook.
Being in a new place can be jarring and make you question parts of your identity, no matter how firmly rooted you thought you were. Talking to people who really understood my experiences helped rebuild my self-confidence in making long-term connections while understanding the significance of short-term ones.
That is why I decided to start the kickback nyc. It’s described as an interpersonal processing group because I aim for it to be a space where Black transplants can come to share their challenges of finding community, of adjusting to a new city, of connecting to themselves and their surroundings. If you identify as Black, moved to the city after 2017, and have struggled to connect with others this might be the group for you.
If you’re interested in learning more about the kickback nyc or joining the group please reach out to us. Please note that the kickback nyc is a gender and queer inclusive space facilitated by a Black queer non-binary femme.
