Finding My Place in NYC’s Black Punk Scene

In 1991, a group of young punks, mostly under twenty-two, gathered at Pool Bar, a short-lived dive bar located at the corner of Bleecker and Broadway. These were not your typical punk rockers, as they were Black and sought a space to connect with like-minded individuals. At the entrance, a tall Black man, donning a clipboard, enforced the five-dollar cover charge. Undeterred by this, a few friends and I managed to slip inside undetected, evading the cover charge by having our hands stamped with a single dollar each.

As a new resident of New York, I was eager to find my place within the local punk scene. This experience at Pool Bar was pivotal, as it marked my first encounter with a predominantly Black punk community. Being acknowledged and invited to an event felt empowering, as it confirmed that my presence mattered within this subculture.

The bar, with its cramped space and sparse amenities, housed a bar, a pool table, and a one-foot-high stage. Despite its modest appearance, it provided an intimate setting for local bands to perform. The crowd was diverse, with a noticeable number of Black individuals, which was unusual in smaller towns where Black representation in the alternative scene was scarce.

On the night I attended, I met Ryan Bland, the frontman of a Black band performing that evening. Ryan, with his overalls and Doc Martens, exuded confidence and authenticity. He made a point to reach out to me, treating me like an older brother. As I watched the band take the stage, I was acutely aware of the palpable energy within the venue.

The mixed crowd of Black and white individuals allowed me to feel represented and accepted, a sentiment that was foreign to my previous experiences in smaller towns. This moment at Pool Bar solidified my place within the Black punk community, and I was grateful for the opportunity to be part of something so dynamic and inclusive.