Monae Everett is Proving that Change is Possible with the Individual
2020 has been the year of reflection for communities across the board. Most notably, the education system has had to restructure its methods and surroundings, affecting thousands of teachers and students internationally. Looking at our community specifically, this Sunday, December 13th, via our Year End Education Convention in partnership with our friends at Eto Ano, we’ll be sharing the stories and anecdotes of NYC based educators, education administrators & students who have been navigating working under the confines of school shutdowns due to COVID-19, messy re-openings and the education agenda of Betsy Devos under the Trump administration over the past four years.
Below, Monae Everett, Founder of Pennies Pantry Brooklyn and former Arts Coordinator at Brooklyn Arts Council, speaks with Spurge Carter of Eto Ano on discovering that formative change doesn’t always have to rely on institutions to succeed.
POND: How are you doing? I recall we touched base right as everything was going down in that first week or so of shutdown. You were making soup for people…?
Monae Everett: Yeah! I'm happy I turned that effort into the community fridge because I can now actually sit and make soup for people. But I have a place to put the soup when I'm done.
POND: Previous to this endeavor, what were you doing exactly?
Monae: I was in Atlanta from March to July, working virtually for the nonprofit Brooklyn Arts Council, essentially when all of this was kind of collapsing. I had just signed on in January; now we know the Coronavirus was already kind of ramping up by then.
POND: What was your specific role?
Monae: I was the coordinator for the Arts in Education Department. There was only one full-time coordinator, one part-time, and a manager and director.
I've studied piano and been immersed in music for so long and have such a connection to education. I taught high school algebra when I first moved to New York. It felt like my ideal, my dream job. I’m familiar with what school art programs offer, what they should provide. My team was responsible for creating a wide range of arts residencies for students, teachers, parents, and community members in digital, literary, performing, and visual arts. We employed teaching artists in both schools and senior centers at a freelance contractor rate. I’d say their hourly rate was adequate for freelancers. I was really happy to be signed onto a team like that. We were there to support artists in need, who had extra time to give back to the community through teaching. But it kind of all went downhill in March and showed its flaws quickly.
POND: What is the general purpose of the Brooklyn Arts Council exactly? What does it do?
Monae: Brooklyn Arts Council provides support and opportunities for artists to make money. In the Arts in Education Department, through residencies in K-12 schools and senior centers across the borough. The Grants Department distributed something like 300 community arts grants a year to individual artists, organizations and small projects across the borough. We were truly acting as middlemen, shuffling around government money. The majority of our funding was public and little came from private sources.
When I signed on, I was aware we managed public funds reserved for art, but I thought we also advocated on artist’s behalves. The pandemic taught me that advocacy was not as high on our priority list. Instead, our voices felt small and we were dedicated to sort of allocating funds that weren’t there, “invisible funds”.
I finally came to realize how much non-profit institutions are similar to agencies, and I'm not really sure if there's much need for them anymore. When all is said and done, I think that individuals, without institutional support, can make a lot more progress for themselves with regards to social change. Sadly, I’ve learned all of that from four months of having to scream, write unanswered letters and make phone calls to elected officials, begging for funds that were promised to artists months prior, even before the pandemic shook our organization.
POND: When was the first inclination of things changing because of COVID?
Monae: Around mid to late February. We operated at the heart of the NYC Department of Education, waiting for a response to the threat, wondering if it was dangerous enough to shut schools down. Then I remember we began to cancel some of our fundraising events and galas, a huge deal for us as these were some of the only ways we could showcase our work in exchange for more funding.
The trauma began when we really started talking within the office about shutting down. Our leader at the time of the shutdown was just coming back from a trip in Sri Lanka, when the news headlines were saying, “If you're returning from anywhere in Asia, please quarantine”, drastic and dramatic headlines. She came into the office I believe less than 1 day after landing, and gaslighted everyone to think we were insane for being afraid.
I distinctly remember a newly hired team member expressed their deep concern and inquired about working from home. When I signed on in January, HR told me that we had indeed developed a telework plan in case of any emergency; I was welcome to work from home if needed, without abusing the privilege. We had such a small team, roughly 15 of us, and everyone was pleading with leadership to take this issue seriously. However, our leader told this staff member she was overreacting and she walked into the office right after she got off the plane. It just felt like total disregard for the safety of all junior staff, underpaid public servants making less than $40,000 a year. Schools closed and the city shut down 2 or 3 days later. So, that kind of set the tone.
POND: Wow yeah, how did things advance in the following months?
Monae: Junior and less experienced staff members began to step up to the plate immediately after the shutdown in ways the more experienced members weren’t able to. We quickly became responsible for additional tasks on top of our previously heavy workload. I was a coordinator, but felt like a manager, responsible for moving our department’s internal communications online, but also responsible for ensuring that our teaching artists could effectively make virtual lesson plans, etc. My manager seemed to take control as director of our department, communicating directly with our artist roster about changes to their residencies and promised stipends.
We had to act so quickly, I want to say within three weeks after the shutdown. We had an excessive amount of deadlines and time crunches that kept changing, while the government threatened to cut our funding if we couldn't come up with a proper solution.
The Arts in Education roster of artists were mostly above the age of 40. Many of them retired artists with our paid residencies and other freelance work the bulk of their income. It seemed like if we were to suspend these programs, they'd be completely out of options. Unemployment benefits were still unavailable for freelancers at the time. It really felt like we had a lot of responsibility to finally claim our position and say, “Okay, well, since we’ve preached advocacy for over 50 years, this is what we're going to do for you as artists; this is how we’ll support you”, but we had no hope of producing that kind of dialogue.
It seemed like we were what I already imagined larger non-profits to be, not smaller, frontline humanitarian organizations, but ones that have just sort of sat in a position stagnantly for over 50 years. I believe they just sit, using lots of lip service to appear like they're making progressive strides.
POND: Did that show itself in other forms during the beginning of the pandemic?
Monae: I don't think we paid close enough attention to individual artists, in a way where we as an institution could have. At some point we had the financial means, but perhaps we were understaffed. It was pretty impossible to keep up with every individual artist on our roster. We were more focused on displaying the bigger picture. But we needed to be more attentive to individuals once the pandemic hit because why have a roster of teaching artists if you’re not updated on each of their circumstances, you don't know how each of them are doing, and you're not sure if they're all safe?
We began making a lot more phone calls rather than emails to check on people, see where they were at emotionally and inquire about their financial struggles. I often think if that's what thoughtful advocacy looks like, then why wasn't that something we were already doing as an institution prior to the pandemic? Why did it take a pandemic for us to focus on the individual needs of the artists on our roster? It just seemed like an effort that came a little too late. And later, it seemed like we didn't have the manpower to reach everyone once layoffs began. As administrators, we were rarely able to develop personal relationships to all the artists and the work we helped produce.
I remember when artists were begging us for information, any information we could give them at the time. We paid communications teams, we paid grant writers, we employed people intelligent enough to answer these questions in a tactful and sensitive way, no matter how many times we had to change our answers. Yet, our leader didn’t trust us enough to provide the support we were meant to. Around week 2 of the shutdown, she sent the staff frantic, late-night emails with headlines saying, “NO CONTACT WITH ARTISTS.” I read several emails that told me not to speak to anyone that inquired about money promised to them. I saved those emails knowing they’d come in handy. And sure enough, months later when an artist publicly complained about our lack of communication, our leader completely forgot about her directives.
POND: The pandemic really exasperated a lot of already existing problems, many of which seem to be primarily institutional.
Monae: As soon as I signed on in January, it was pretty clear that the 15 person team didn't really work synergistically. Separate and disjointed internal communications, senior staff vs junior staff... I watched them lay the foundation for instability rather than progress.
To ensure our teaching artists were paid, that their residencies and lesson plans were translated virtually, we ended up developing a number of accessible programs online for professional development for educators. We needed to first teach many on our roster techniques and tips for video production. They were working all these additional hours for BAC, amidst a pandemic. So, it became really weird to demand so much from them. All this red tape to cut through in order to receive money that was already contractually agreed upon. Sure, those contracts honored programs that were meant to be held in person, but these were unprecedented times. Instead of using our political position to demand that these artists were paid regardless of their output, we made them sort of jump through these hoops. Technological hoops, hoops these retired artists had little interest or ability to jump through.
I just saw so much more opportunity for advocacy. I think we failed at that for sure. But, while attempting to advocate, junior staff was being laid off and rehired again and again until the school year ended. Unfortunately, our HR director also held the position of finance director. As you can imagine, because he was in charge of our finances, he was really callous about human relations. He often upset teaching artists and other NYCDOE staff because of his insensitive communication style. And internally, we had zero support with regards to unemployment compensation. All of our questions and concerns were often ignored.
For me, the real tragedy was returning to New York and realizing a lot of my peers who held similar institutional positions, were having the same exact problems. I was like, “Oh my gosh! This is just, this is another pandemic in and of itself. I just don't know what to do about it other than share my experiences.”
POND: When was everyone laid off?
Monae: Final layoffs coincided with the end of the PPP loan coverage and end of the school year. The Arts in Education department of 4 was dissolved. That was late June, after months of being told that it was likely to happen, after having to hustle to beat the clock due to these funding deadlines.
The only positive aspects of our work were the product of successful virtual programs— the moments when our teaching artists gained new professional skills, the moments when we were able to celebrate our achievements with parents, teachers, students and other administrators via Zoom, Microsoft Teams, etc. Witnessing the way children brightened our spirits by sharing their artistry on screen. Those moments made us so emotional, like all of the trauma was worth it. But, those moments were just few and far between, which made our impact bittersweet. It was exactly the work I thought I was meant for, but due to all of these institutional barriers, I couldn't do my job as effectively as I’d hoped. It was pretty defeating overall.
POND: What did you learn through this experience? From this, what would an ideal situation look like?
Monae: One sad, but realistic thing I've learned from a few jobs— when you look like me, many of your ideas may be ignored. And you’ll have to be alright using additional energy to stand your ground, repeat your point of view, and amplify your perspective.
I'm leaning into trusting my instincts more and not assuming that decades of educational or professional experience, that having doctorate degrees in art equate to being skilled at advocacy. That's why when I was let go, I needed to keep working on reaching people I believed needed the most support. Progress is best made outside of institutional walls.
POND: What have you been up to since BAC?
Monae: I started Pennie’s Pantry, a new community fridge outside of Marcy Houses. I’ve studied economics long enough to know that one fridge in a sea of three different public housing developments and men’s and women’s shelters cannot keep the neighborhood from starving. But, I'm using the space as a platform to host other events related to mutual aid and community support. I want the space to act as an educational resource, a space for information sharing. Handouts on tenants’ rights, alternative community safety networks, other nearby food pantries, clothing drives, etc.
I’m still not super connected in NYC, so I've recently been meeting some inspirational activists who’ve been organizing without institutional support for over a decade. The pantry’s opening ceremony is next Friday, December 11th.
Tune in to our Year End Education Convention this Sunday, December 13th on Baby TV.