blues with a jazz trip on it.
despite the underworld’s shadows, there was an unspoken code:
Those who had shared with those who had not.
Even before the Great Depression of the last century, Harlem's elders and community figures paid rent for families on the brink, covered funeral costs when grief struck without warning and made sure children could eat when cupboards were bare.
In addition to the community based missionaries, the “numbers” weren’t just a street hustle; they were an informal community fund, cycling money through neighbors before it became what we now call government lotteries.
In the last century, economic desperation rarely ended in hopelessness, because you could knock on a door and find help, even if it came in a brown envelope handed quietly on a Sunday morning while at church, Harlem has such beautiful churches.
Then came the 1980s, and the evil storm of the Iran-Contra era. As crack cocaine flooded Harlem, and many other Black communities across the nation were attacked, there were no numbers runners to help. Missionariies like Mother Clara Hale did whatever they could to heal.
Families were split by policy. Incarceration replaced rehabilitation, an art and science described by Harlem Griot Linda Humes as "restorative justice".
We are called now to rebuild.
It is not nostalgia; it is guidance. We need to return to a culture where love is operationalized, not just in Harlem, but everywhere possible:
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Check on your neighbors. Is there a mother in your building who needs groceries? A child who needs shoes? An elder who needs company?
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Create micro-funds or mutual aid networks. Let the spirit of the “numbers” live on legally, ethically, and transparently as tools for collective uplift.
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Teach each other. Share skills, knowledge, and hope. Every connection strengthens the fabric of community. Be generous with love.
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Refuse to abandon the lost. Substance abuse, housing instability, and mental health crises should be met with compassion, not criminalization.
As we face new challenges—global boiling, economic uncertainty, and ongoing systemic injustices—the spirit of Harlem can be a guiding light for “peace on Earth to men, women, and children of good will.”
It takes love to build a community. It takes consistent love to sustain one.
The elders before us did not wait for permission to care for each other. Neither should we.
Let’s print, build, and grow this spirit together, weaving safety, dignity, and joy back into our neighborhoods. Let us become the community we wish we had when we needed it most, for each other, right now.
JOY.
Full ChatGPT conversation posted here
https://chatgpt.com/share/686de43d-098c-8003-8316-673ed27c3b1d