I came to Newark with many people telling me I shouldn’t. An acquaintance I barely knew, upon hearing that I had gotten a job offer in Newark (that I was clearly excited about), replied with a loud “PLEASE don’t go to Newark,” as if it would personally offend him. Even before I accepted my Global Health Corps (GHC) fellowship placement, I grew defiantly attached to Newark, defensive against these unasked for judgements on a city most had never visited, and that I was eager to explore. So I came to Newark ready to uproot all the unfair assumptions I had encountered, and discover a place full of its own value on its own terms.
I’m happy to report that this is just what I’ve discovered. My first weekend in Newark I took a Have You Met Newark tour, visiting local businesses like Dan’s Hats and Caps where I met three generations of Dans, admired the beautiful Newark Print Shop, and tasted delicious coffee and nut-mixes at TM Ward Coffee. I’ve loved inhaling the barbecue-scented Sunday afternoon air in my own Newark neighborhood, the Ironbound, where Brazilian and Portuguese families have backyard cookouts after church. My favorite brunch place, Vonda’s Kitchen, is warm and inviting, and everyone seems to know Vonda. After only months of living here, I know I have just barely scratched the surface.
At the same time, this is not to ignore the very real challenges of Newark. I arrived in Newark around the same time as our new mayor moved in, and city hall layoffs and restaffing are still occurring. Although this recent “regime change” was supposedly a big deal, the long time Newarkers I’ve heard talking about it (including one of the aforementioned “Dans”) just seem tiredly apprehensive. Alongside everything I have enjoyed discovering and learning about Newark, this is something else I’ve found – a city that struggles between visions of a great and sweeping rebirth, versus the decades of being handed from one politician to another just to experience the same patterns again and again. Each change feels like yet another round of the city being used to satisfy politicians’ personal whims and ego. At its worst, this refers to the legacies of corruption where Newark coffers were emptied without apology into politician’s own pocketbooks. At its best, this refers to politicians who perhaps truly do want the best for Newark, but are more committed to testing (and vindicating) their own urban recovery and revitalization ideologies than engaging in the slow and difficult process of engaging communities in the change process. (Read about the $100 million meant to revitalize Newark’s education system here.)
As a GHC fellow, I was brought to Boys & Girls Club of Newark (BGCN) as a young leader, an innovator, a changemaker. My co-fellow and I are tasked with developing new programs that will further the Clubhouse’s mission of providing the greatest opportunities for children who are the most vulnerable. Our roles are a part of a re-envisioning of BGCN; even the physical environment signals change and innovation, with brand new facilities signaling a vision of the Clubhouse as a truly state-of the-art environment for kids to be in. What an amazing environment for a changemaker – one that fosters innovation, growth, and big ideas.
But in the greater Newark context, “change” does not always, or even often, have a positive connotation. In city politics, this is often the language used by those seeking to stamp their name on every accomplishment, and even worse, to erase all evidence of previous accomplishments for fear their name might be overshadowed. People in Newark seem tired of this kind of change. Our own organization has gone through tumult in recent years, and as I learn the history of our organization, I hear stories of loss in difficult economic times. Sometimes “change” means, “we used to have five Clubhouse buildings – now we have one.” Understandably, the long-time Newarkers that my cofellow and I work with, are suspicious of this buzz-word “change” at our own organization as well.
However, I believe this presents a unique opportunity for the partnership between BGCN and GHC. As a community-based organization, BGCN is connected to the people and communities that actually live and breathe Newark. Although this is a time of change for BGCN, a time full of visions and hope, similar to the visions and hope that guide change in the city government, maybe we can model for our mayors, representatives, and governors a different sort of change process. I have an inkling that being a changemaker in this environment is not just about ideas and new things. It is about listening, being respectful, and building upon what already exists. It is a process that involves respecting the wisdom and knowledge of the past. It is a change that knows the importance of building trust and relationships first, and gets the importance of community in community change. I believe organizations like ours and Covenant House (the other GHC placement organization in Newark) have a unique opportunity to empower people and institutions to choose this sort of change.
Being a GHC fellow is about change, but it’s not about change for the sake of taking over, for the sake of power, control, and stamping your name on something to say “look! that’s what I did!” Its about a much more meaningful kind of change, something that’s deeper, and hopefully more lasting. As a GHC fellow in Newark, I get to work towards change behind the scenes, with respect for Newark and the people who know it best, with my eyes on our mission of helping children flourish, and no political agenda of my own.