Why We Are Crazy Enough to NOTAFLOF

How do we create and sustain a community that will be able to survive this increasingly unjust system and how can we transform it if it’s becoming ever more challenging to survive within it?

The space at 5653 San Pablo Avenue in Oakland would not let us pass it by. It happened that we found it through mutual friends of the previous proprietor, who was running a multicultural salon and event space within it for the last 8 years. It was called Serendipity, a lucky happenstance we stumbled on.

If we didn’t take it, the place would become another piece of gentrified history, contributing to the driving up of prices in the area, to the displacement of the neighbors.

With no personal capital, we decided to rent this space in North Oakland because every space has the potential to either make or break this community. We wanted this space to become part of the solution, not the problem. We couldn’t let this slip away.

Dara Roberts and I have been dreaming of a community-run, collective space for years, long before meeting each other. Taking steps in that direction, we began to offer pay-what-you-can haircuts and bodywork to the queer and trans* community of the East Bay, prioritizing queer and trans* people of color who often experience alienation and oppression from both ends.

You might call us crazy for doing this because we are barely able to pay our own rent every month, need to go apply for food stamps yesterday and can’t afford the services we offer. (Disclaimer: we embrace anyone who wants to call us crazy, because we are and it’s not a bad thing). Rather than trying to fend for ourselves and filling up our days hustling to make money from those with more wealth, we have chosen to work within our community because we see our people in fight or flight and if we don’t do something, pretty soon there will be no community left.

Since we started offering NOTAFLOF* services (*no one turned away for lack of funds), about 300 people have come through the door who we would have never met otherwise, many of whom have become our friends. In Dara’s old space we were only able to offer pay-what-you-can days two days per week and want the new space to be able to support NOTAFLOF services to growing numbers of folks in our community.

When we put out the call three weeks ago to fundraise and attract folks who would want to support the space, initially we had a big push. With the involvement of over 30 dedicated people, we have raised $3,287 in 22 days. We need to reach $5,000 to cover all of our costs to get this off the ground.

In the past week we have reached a troubling impasse: no new donations have come in for the last few days and we need to shut down the fundraiser by Friday. If we can’t raise these funds, roughly $1,700, this space cannot be brought into existence. This would be a tragedy, because there is already so much that is coming into being.

We have benefit shows planned for the end of the month, are planning to host a craft fair the first weekend of March, we’re bringing in speakers, creators, community movers and shakers and we have big ideas for what this space can be.

Unfortunately, it seems that a lot of folks are down to the wire in our community and for reasons which we all understand. I’ve been basically unemployed for the last half a year because of discrimination related to being trans in the workplace. I know there are a lot of us who are not able to work and sustain work for x amount of reasons. This system has set us up to fail.

If you are one of us, someone that the system doesn’t give a damn about, we want you to be part of this community. We want you to come to the space and feel like there is something here for you. If you don’t have dollars; hell, even if you don’t have time, we want you to know this place exists for all of us.

But, if you do have just a dollar, or five, and 1,000–2,000 of us have just that small amount to give, we can make sure that this space doesn’t slip away and pay the rent every month.

Our resilience as a community is only as strong as each of our members. I’m asking you to look up from your computer screen for a second, close your eyes and imagine this space:

there’s a window with beautiful clothes and crafts made by queer and trans* people in our community, there are hanging lights and stained glass and a sign that says something to the effect of “no racism, homophobia, transphobia, sexism, ableism, judgment or oppression. this is a safe haven for people who identify as queer, trans*, poc, and our allies.”

there’s a stage to the right of the door when you walk in, folks getting their hair cut toward the back, a beautiful community mural, a clothing swap rack, a resident tailor altering clothes, folks meeting over coffee and tea, a multi-use space with high ceilings, comfortable couches and chairs, a rack full of zines and radical books, a community wall with information, flyers, and business cards, rotating art installations on the walls, music shows, direct action planning and karaoke at night. Through the door into the next room, a cozy treatment room for massage and energy work, a kitchen, bathroom, loft space for touring bands or guests, and finally a back garden with raised beds, an umbrella, tables and chairs. There is conversation, camaraderie, and a place where we hope you can drop defenses and be yourself.

We want this to be a home away from home. For many in our community, home is not a place where we can find comfort or acceptance. Home is also something that not all of us have, often transitional or nonexistent.

How do we care for ourselves when we are isolated, broke, and unable to access the services we need in order to do so? Self care only works if you have the capacity for self care, whether emotionally, physically or financially.

We need to care for one another.

Dara and I see this space as a transforming ground. We want it to serve as a foundation for building true community where folks can care for themselves and each other: a place where you can do what you need to do for self care and not be turned away because you the lack the funds. A place where you can care for others without worrying about the overhead of renting space. A place where we can support our community and know that we are not alone.

As Kitty Stryker put it in “Radical Self-Reliance is Killing People”: “Over and over again, I see waves of desperation and loneliness crash against the shore. I recognize it because I’ve been sitting on that beach for a long time. And I see communities who are ill equipped to help take care of each other, depending on a few to be responsible. We don’t always have social programs to help us. We have people dealing with intense shit trying to push that aside to care for other people while simultaneously trying to take care of themselves. I didn’t feel like I could ask people for help because my problems were not as serious as other people’s problems, because I’m the rock. “Be self-reliant”, I told myself, until I collapsed under the pressure. From my observations, that’s happening to a lot of people.”

We want this space to be safe enough for people to feel like they can ask for help. We obviously can’t be a crisis center, but we want this space to foster an organized community that will be capable of supporting folks when they are in crisis and need. We also want it to support people before they get to that point. Sometimes all it takes is an ear, a fresh haircut, some bodywork or nourishing food. Sometimes it takes more than that, and with our combined resources we hope we can provide that help.

Self care goes way beyond basic grooming, exercise, and sharing a good meal, but is also: having a space to share your skills and passions, teaching a class you’ve always wanted to teach, presenting a workshop, being given the space to try something new, a place of non-judgment, a place for dialogue, gardening in the backyard, organizing a group of folks to meet, create, envision new realities together. A space where you are not expected to have to achieve anything. To not feel so alone, to be inspired by music, art and other visionaries. To be the inspiration for others.

Please, if you can, go to this link and donate between $1–5 to help us secure this space so we can make this an ongoing reality for the queer and trans* community and its allies. We see this space as an opportunity for all of us to make a difference and contribute to each others’ wellness in the ways in which we are able. If you can’t pay this online, you can show up to the space where we have a donation box. If you’re not able to support us financially, there’s no shame in that. This space is for you, too.

Something has to change in the East Bay. We want 5653 San Pablo Avenue to be part of that transformation.

Donate here: https://www.generosity.com/community-fundraising/support-pay-what-you-can-community-space/x/8595290

UPDATE: Our community has really come through. We have just about $400 left to raise in one day. Y’all contributed about $1200 in just one day. THANK YOU.