Creation, destruction; life, murder; beauty, disfigurement. All contradictions, all words that can be used to illustrate life on the streets of the city of Newark, New Jersey. Newark, a city long known for its corruption and exceedingly high murder and poverty rates, has been the subject of both hardline scrutiny and the worrisome glances folks throw towards it as they drive past on Route 280 or the New Jersey Turnpike.
But all of that is on the verge of changing. After decades of corruption, a new, young, charismatic mayor is determined to change Newark from its status as a cautionary tale to one of the country's greatest cities; and this past week, the Sundance Channel hosted a five-part documentary, "Brick City," chronicling his efforts in a hard-hitting, convicting series of episodes.
From its powerful start, "Brick City" focuses on Mayor Cory Booker, Newark's Director of Police Garry McCarthy, and the people who are trying to make a difference in this turbulent city. And although the documentary is full of the drama and heart-tugging personal connections that make any series—fictional or not—worth watching, what strikes the viewer most is being able to watch love in action: true agape love—selfless, unending love. It is everywhere, just as ferocious as the violence which seeks to destroy the city, and it starts at the top. Mayor Cory Booker, an intelligent, enthusiastic Ivy-league graduate who was elected as mayor in 2006 (his unsuccessful 2002 run was documented in the film Street Fight), is determined to rid Newark of all that plagues it and spends every waking hour (and sometimes even those when he's supposed to be asleep) to "take back Newark" for its people. He encourages community members to go out and make a difference; he holds monthly open office hours; and he even organizes a "Midnight basketball" game during long summer nights to keep the youth out of the violent streets and onto the courts. The games, like the city, are electric, filled with anticipatory faces, laughter, and fun—a welcome respite from the sadness that is such a part of Newark's current history. Afterwards, in the glow of the court's streetlights, Booker leads some of the city's younger children in a raucous game of Simon Says. "You're out and you win," he says to two of them at the end of the game; and his smile is from ear to ear, sincere as ever. At the series' end, when he encounters a woman at the grocery store whose sister has just been killed by gang violence, he gives her a hug and tells her to buy as much food as she can for her family and her now-motherless nieces and nephews, which he promptly pays for. Love is what motivates him: this is a man whose devotion to his city shines continuously—and sincerely—from his face.
Tough love for the city also comes from the gruff, hard-talking, results-getting Director of Police, Garry McCarthy. A controversial appointee to the position in 2006, he is determined to bring down the high numbers of crime. Although he takes his job extremely seriously (and gets results: in 2008 the murder rate in Newark had decreased by nearly 40%), he also finds time to poke jokes at Mayor Booker's expense. When Mayor Booker receives death treats before his first Midnight Basketball game, McCarthy, who is in charge of security detail, dryly notes, "You just had to make my job harder, didn't ya?"
That love, though, like many things about Newark, is a two-way street. Just as the police work to reduce crime and killing in the city, its gang members also display a fierce loyalty between the members of their ranks. In one of the concluding episodes a juxtaposition is placed between a police officer's funeral and a member of the Bloods who has committed suicide: the grief sounds the same, no matter which side of the violence you're looking from. Jayda and Creep, lovers from rival gangs, are showcased in their efforts to transform themselves and Newark. Jayda, a member of the infamous Blood gang, awaits prosecution for an assault charge. Pregnant by Crip member boyfriend Creep and determined to turn her life around, she seeks out—and ultimately attains—a grant to start a program called "Nine Strong Women," which seeks to empower young women in the city with the message that love does not have to equal sex and knowledge is power as well as freedom.
It can be tempting to watch the series and focus solely on the negativity that is present, but what the viewer is most drawn to is the concern and the love shown from Newark's concerned citizens. These folks, mainly from church groups in the area who are tired of the danger they are constantly put in, make it their mission to help the city's youth become empowered with the message that they are good and can accomplish so much. In the first episode, a man affectionately named "Street Doctor" brings coffee cake and donuts to kids at local community centers. "I know it sounds stupid," he says, holding out the box to a group of children, "but it'll work. These are cakes that will stop killing." Later, he sits on a bus, crying tears of joy when he and a large group of children head to the Jersey Shore on a field trip on Father's Day. "This is my moment," he says, choked up with emotion. "If more people got involved, we could really stop what's going on in our city."
What makes "Brick City" both so powerful and so convicting is that it lays out a map for its viewers, showing where to go, how to help, how to be Christ to those who desperately needs them most. Is it neat and tidy? No. Is it clean and polished? No. It's gritty. It's real. But that's what love is; and that is where Christians are called to be.
