This month, we say goodbye to our former home, the historic Miss Major-Jay Toole Building which housed generations of organizers and held grassroots groups focusing on manifesting social change for our communities. Each year, fewer of us have been able to sustain there because of the escalating cost of rent and shifts in economics that impact our ability to thrive. Building strength through collaboration and ritual and honoring each other’s work is how we have been building resilience during this part of the Restoration Period.
After a challenging year, ALP has found its equilibrium. Displacement because of gentrification is a personal subject for everyone in this organization. It is an extension of colonial practices that have been traumatizing and killing our ancestors for generations. So our challenge is not a new challenge, and in fact, it strengthens our resolve to put our hearts into the work of building our communities in resistance to this force that harms our lives.
We are returning to our Brooklyn home, a sacred space that has held many generations of struggle in the work toward liberation. As we return, we are taking care to restore the space and create safety and comfort for each other in how we want to re-inhabit our own history together, in a new formation.
We are proud of all of our community members, and curious new attendees, who participated in our moving parties and created so much joy with us in a time period that was inevitably stressful. Community made it work. And the organizing of all those hands at work is something our dedicated staff was responsible for. We moved mountains. We put the movement in moving! We got it done!
We're also appreciative to everyone who joined us at our Fuck You, Gentrification party and helped usher us out of Manhattan with a bang. We participated in a ceremony to close the space and set new intentions for the future, laughed, danced, held each other, and raised nearly $3,000 to support ALP's transition.
Currently, we're examining where we are replicating structural oppression inside of our community and addressing that information with loving kindness, and with an actionable plan for concerted change. It’s hard work. We have to become vulnerable in order to reshape ourselves into a form that fits what the future hold for us. This is the nature of regeneration. It starts with vulnerable transformation, and it doesn’t stop. We’re learning new ways of being with each other in this bittersweet time.