Welcome to our neighborhood
My name is Sydette. I’m a technologist, researcher, and writer hailing from Far Rockaway, and a founding member of the Unbreaking collective. Most importantly, I’m a person like you enduring these really hard times. It feels unending—rulings, bills, protests, a deluge of chaos arising from the systemic unmaking of the government, from something that functions into something that attacks and suppresses.
I struggle with how I feel about it every day, but as a lifelong neighbor of Mr. Rogers, I knew I wanted to be a helper. He told us to look for the helpers. It’s a beautiful sentiment, and I carry it on my heart. But we aren’t kids anymore—just looking will not save us or soothe us.
Mr. Rogers put a beautiful sentiment of being a helper onto my heart. Far Rockaway, New York, made me put it into my life and on my skin. I have survived hurricanes, deportations, and most recently being at the epicenter of the start of the Covid epidemic. I didn’t have to look for the helpers though—I was raised by them. My mom picked us up after my father’s deportation. She was a union rep and part of a network of aunties who ran food pantries after every storm, from Far Rockaway in Queens to Fordham in the Bronx. I now live in the former district of Shirley Chisholm, who walked the streets of this neighborhood for the 1970 census. I have tattoos of my mother, my zip code, and the title of Rep. Chisholm’s memoir, Unbought and Unbossed, so I remember to do more than look.
I’ve organized DACA aid for immigrants, led research on community practices, and given speeches about how we need civic systems to listen to community. I know how to help, but what do you do when there is so much to do and so much unhelpful information flying around?
Unbreaking pulls together those lessons for me. Looking directly at issues as taught by Mr. Rogers. Getting accurate information by knocking on the proverbial doors like Rep. Chisholm. And showing up regularly to put that material to use like my Momma.
Nothing ever comes back exactly the same. But if we know what has changed, what is being destroyed—but also what can be saved—then we can hope that something even better can be rebuilt. My neighborhood was under water after Sandy, covered in white tarps, the people undercounted. I had a very nebulous idea about what medical research funding meant to me, but working with a committed group of people to help, I learned a lot. I see now how it helped get us to the COVID vaccine, which truly saved my mom’s life. I know whose lives are at risk as that funding is dismantled, and the scope of the dismantling is huge.
The most amazing part of Unbreaking to me has been seeing the ways people have stepped into the work, and seeing how our skills can come together to document the threats, counterattacks, and community responses every week. It’s chaos, but the work of making and using Unbreaking is also the work of finding each other.
When we all help we can get things done. I have seen it in my life. And through Unbreaking, I am seeing it on the page.
This is the work that needs me right now. And I need it in return. If you’re called to help us, we could use more researchers, writers, and editors. If you have a few hours to spare a week, please join us.