Focus
The single biggest challenge I’ve faced professionally with Yo Miami is focus. I’ve yet to find a concise way to answer the question “What do you do?” I’ve worn a lot of hats and been involved with a wide range of projects and initiatives in various capacities. The challenge of narrowing my focus has been at the forefront of my mind the past few years (or at least circling around it and coming back to the front frequently).
Deep down at the root of the passion that’s driven me all these years with Yo Miami, it boils down to narratives. Stories are something that I’ve been drawn to and tried to transmit all my life. They’re the only thing that ever made sense to me, unlike the jumbled confusion that I experience trying to navigate social situations. A common thread that allowed me to find some structure and connection between everything. They’re what help me see the hidden connections between all the elements of life I encounter.
It’s dawned on me slowly these past few years that a gaping void has opened up in our community. One which used to be filled with a number of unique voices speaking to and for the creative souls who were taking part in the evolution and growth of Miami’s underground culture. In the past decade those voices have gradually subsided, until now we’re left with an echo chamber filled with the redundant cries of the highest bidders and latest attractions.
The biggest loss since the “Golden Years” we all miss so dearly though is the lack of connection among the community. The creatives and orbiting supporters, we were all taking an active role in actualizing real world manifestations of our ideas. All of us were stakeholders in the cultural identity of this city. We were responsible for and investing our time, energy, and money into this ephemeral thing that no one tried to create, but that was born naturally, the fruit of all our labor. Everyone mostly knew each other, and welcomed newcomers with open arms, as long as their intentions were pure.
But with time and added responsibilities, we lost our grip on it. We let in people with selfish motives and lost our focus on what was really important. Wynwood is just the most obvious example to point at, but we were losing our collective soul, sold to the highest bidder one sliver at a time. With every shuttered venue, lost to entropy and apathy from the community that once was so charged with passion. Those with less passion were pandered to, because they were willing to pay to keep the lights on.
I started Yo Miami partially in response to all my friends from high school eagerly fleeing the city as soon as college appeared on the horizon. Shunning their hometowns for supposedly more cultured and promising cities elsewhere. I was the stubborn holdout who lived the philosophy “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” Or maybe more aptly “be the change you want to see in the world.” I could see vast potential in all the nooks and crannies of this city that many didn’t even realize existed.
It’s not too late, for those of you who, like me, yearn for the days when we found like-minded spirits all working together towards a common goal. But make no mistake, it will require effort, as anything worthwhile and significant does. Are you with me?