With low registration numbers and a last minute reschedule, I wasn’t sure what to expect at yesterday’s first workshop… 😅
Learning to Build Trust (and Workshops) in Arbor Hill
No one showed up! And honestly? It was exactly what I expected. Now, before you think I’m just playing it off, I will direct you to this blog. I knew by Memorial Day that I needed to pilot this process. This is what it looks and feels like when you consciously build in the fails. True risk-taking requires genuine risk, and effective risk assessment only comes with experience. So, let’s do the math on Week 21, shall we?
Learning 1: Embrace the Pilot (and the Unexpected)
A few months ago, as I tightened my schedule and confirmed summer plans, I realized I had zero time to promote my first workshops on the ground in Albany. Remote efforts could only do so much; establishing in-person relationships for potential participants was severely limited. So, what was a gal to do? Postpone? To when? Unless I created the time, it wouldn’t magically appear.
And so, I created it. I dedicated July to piloting four workshops in Arbor Hill—a notoriously challenging neighborhood to engage, and of course, the very focus of my work.
My mindset shifted earlier this year when I recognized I couldn’t possibly collect 150 stories or conduct research and workshops in two cities this summer. That kind of pressure would lead to nothing but disappointment. There was no way I could establish the relationships needed. Instead, I channeled advice from an old supervisor: test it.
The difference is small and significant. It’s small because the only thing that changed was the goal of my work in Albany this summer. I still put in all the effort to create an amazing experience. I just acknowledged that conducting research and facilitating workshops requires knowing more people than I know. I realized that piloting the workshops, -instead of expecting to mount packed and pristinely produced workshops- removed the pressure of metrics to focus on relationships. That’s important when you are one person with a bicoastal project.
So many creative projects never take off, or are met with massive yet avoidable challenges because they do not take the time to establish and nurture relationships needed for success.
For example, the Albany Public Library is special to me for many reasons, but one in particular is because my mother worked for the APL. At the Arbor Hill branch. She has since moved on, but she remembers her time there fondly.
And the feeling is mutual. The Arbor Hill team was so kind and professional and members that knew her were excited to extend greetings.
Because relationships are important. A value she clearly demonstrates.
Without the looming threat of needing a certain amount of stories this July, I could spend my energy on connecting with folks in Arbor Hill. It is my turn to make my own connections in this neighborhood.
Today was the first of many experiments (focused purely on logistics, not the wonderful people involved). No one showed up, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t yield results. In fact, it yielded a heck of a lot.
Learning 2: The Ground Truth is Always the Most Valuable
It wasn’t lost on me that this workshop attempt occurred during a historically charged week. Just two days prior, on July 8th, 41 years ago, a 32-year-old man was killed in his home by the Albany Police Department. Alice Green, an already celebrated activist, became a champion for Arbor Hill and South End, advocating for social and criminal justice.
To be attempting something unheard of, across the street from the Albany Police Department, a month after that same department declared the lynching of a Black man in Albany a suicide… it felt profoundly significant. And today, during the very time I would have been facilitating, an unhoused woman experienced a mental health crisis in front of the library doors.
There is an undeniable need for the work I’m doing, especially in this community. But the burning question remains: how do you establish trust with a community you don’t live in? That, my friends, is the quest for the summer: begin to build that trust.
One thing was made absolutely clear to me today: I am doing the work exactly where I need to be. Being on the ground in Albany gives me the invaluable time to attend events hosted by Trinity Alliance, S.N.U.G., YWCA, and others. Attending these events allows me to truly get to know the people and organizations on a deeper level. And that is how genuine community collaboration, leading to real transformation, begins. Building this dedicated time into my project timeline, I’m realizing, was nothing short of genius. It’s the very thing I used to complain about when working for arts organizations—expecting magic without trust or relationships, then being disappointed by the outcome.
Learning 3: Timing is Everything (and Often Tricky)
A middle-of-the-day Thursday workshop was a shot in the dark, aimed at women with caregiving responsibilities in the evening. Finding the “right” time for these will undoubtedly be difficult, but I had to start somewhere. My research consistently reveals that Black women are *always* laboring, paid or unpaid. With the rising cost of childcare and elder care, most of those responsibilities fall squarely on women. Ironically, these same women, statistically, are also often equal or sole breadwinners. So, when on earth do we schedule a time for her to take time for herself?
Well, that will require several plans enacting at once to help shift mindset and behavior, from multiple sources simultaneously. This is precisely why collaboration is so crucial. It’s also why piloting small is so important—it allows us to test for the best combination of variables. It removes the immense pressure. If I had expected 70 narratives by the end of this month, this would be a very different blog post! Tempering my expectations to successfully engage this specific neighborhood gives my attention a wonderfully sharp focus.
Learning 4: Step Outside the Onesie
Even I must step outside my comfort zone. I am not a talker (Surprised? Probably not). I am a writer, not a talker. I’m an actor, not a talker. I’m a teacher, not a talker. I am personable, not social. Given a choice, I’d almost always rather be in my onesie.
So, when the workshop room sat empty, I did something completely out of character: I went outside, to approach people on the street. This is truly not like me at all. But how else do I get to know someone in this neighborhood if I don’t talk to folks who live here? And I met the most wonderful woman, who was genuinely interested in my work, and agreed that it was good and necessary. And she even directed me where to go next.
One of the things the city of Albany has done exceptionally well is institutionalize its racism. The building of Highway 787 and the Empire State Plaza were targeted campaigns to destroy thriving Black communities. Policies and practices formed around these events to justify displacement and exploitation. So, the “obvious” gathering places one would expect to capture a large Black local audience don’t really exist in Albany. There are pockets, moments, but not sustained cohesion. And my research at UAlbany this week revealed that this has been the case for a very long time.
I want to learn how to engage because this is present in midsize cities all over the country. Healing is needed within and between our communities. Essence Ventures is catching hell on Black TikTok because amidst a national Black American boycott of Target Corp, the mecca of Black American culture event (Essence Fest) enlists Target as a sponser. Huh?!? Our internal division is real and it isn’t doing us any favors. I want to work with communities to find ways we can heal in the community. I want it to be successful.
So, if walking door to door like a Jehovah’s Witness is what I need to do to listen and learn and share that this is happening… I got time. I planned it that way.
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