Writing from February.

If you had told me two years ago, I'd be asking for a low fade from my barber in Brooklyn ...I might have believed you. I certainly would have been shocked. I didn't know anything about low fades, barbers, or Brooklyn. Now I do. And now I know about sketchy barbers and french hairstylists (true artists -> scissor wizards, as I like to say) too. People here say that if you can live in Nyc, you can live anywhere. If you can make a living and piece work together, it's an accomplishment, you should be proud of yourself, you've done well. I've worked for over 23 employers in the past two years. (...that I can remember! May be more.) I've moved twice. I'm about to move again. I'll need to find another barber ...again. I've made a living. I've met at least 500 people that I truly know. Some I love. Most are in my contacts. And I keep meeting more. This city can be lonely. One of the most lonely. It takes tenacity and courage to live here. Resilience. But I have not had these things. Often I have believed the worst, feared the best, and run from hardship. This city kicked me in the balls. Literally nothing happened like I expected it to. It's complicated. Change is constant. I cannot be proud of myself. There's no karma here. Maybe I can live anywhere, but it's not because of my time in Nyc. ...it's because of my God. Over the last two years, my Father comforted me. When I feared having nothing to eat, Jesus gave me work. When I doubted ever doing what I love, Holy Spirit began moving me. Today I sat down in Jack's Barbershop to "What do you want? Same as last time?" I never imagined I'd be here. But here I am. In Alex's chair. Somehow, familiar. And truly, let me tell you, of all the barbers in Brooklyn, Alex gives a mean fade.

— Robyn Noelani February 2025