• ELIXHER
• On October 20, 2014

By Cairo Amani
Reporting By Chantelle Simmons

You are seated among a small crowd in a dimly lit theater. When the lights become even lower, you shake your leg against your metal folding chair, eager for the show. The stage lights up. A brown woman’s lithe body slyly twists to the gathering beat of drums. With every slow extension of her graceful limbs, the beads on her body rattle. Your heartbeat quickens. And when you look to your neighbors, you see yourself, smiling, clapping, leaning in — a community of strangers delighted by the sated hunger for the “other” on stage.

Feels good, doesn’t it?

Shawn and Jaz in Rivers Co-Producer Mode, 2011 (Photo c/o Katia Ruiz Tyger Productions)

For the past 10 years, Rivers of Honey provided us with riveting performances by women artists of color. Housed at WOW Cafe, nestled in the East Village, Rivers of Honey has been the sole space for this since 2004 when Jaz Smith-Cruz and a team of other women of color artists began the production of this monthly show, which has highlighted artists such as Toshi Reagan, Chaney Sims, Blue Nefertitii, Maria Bauman, Tamar Kali, Yalini Dream, Kay Barnett, Hanifah Walidah, Ashley Brockington and Ganessa James — just to name a few. After a long legacy, Rivers of Honey held its last show in NYC in August and since January has produced shows in Philadelphia, based on the longstanding relationship with Philadelphia community activists Jeaninne Betu Kayembe and Troi Lauren Nichols. The final NYC show, the August Underwear Party, awarded resident artists, Chauvet Bishop and Foxy Squire, and thanked the many women who came from all over the country to perform at Rivers.

For those of you already familiar with Rivers of Honey, it may be because of the famed Underwear Party, a sacred and annual event which, unlike other shows at Rivers, asked that only women of color, self-defined as female-bodied, be in the space, on stage, and in the audience, to pay tribute to their ancestral selves and pay homage to Oshun’s altar. Because Rivers of Honey made it an intention to not use language embraced by queer theory, such as “cisgender” or “queer,” and instead, a more global language of “men” and “women” asking folks to include themselves where it made sense to them, this led to criticism from non-profits and past producers for a change in language and policy, criticizing the Underwear Party as transphobic and urged it to be shut down. Since then, Rivers allowed a year of performance to engage not only Oshun, but additional altars for the orishas Ogun, Yemeya, Chango, Oya, and Obatala. This allowed for a more global respect to the Spiritism that was Rivers of Honey. As a result of that new openness, the shows since the attacks have been most successful.

“We highlight Oshun, the goddess of the Rivers. Since the boycott, we’ve opened the offerings to other Orishas and have had much success,” shares Shawn. “There was never a policy before or after the boycott. The co-production team went from many producers to simply two people who held down the show for three additional years, out of pocket. One major success was headlining at the 2014 Pride show for the Brooklyn Museum. We felt the Brooklyn Museum was a good way to end in New York City, but wanted to offer one more Underwear Party.”

Jaz Smith-Cruz

Jaz shows off her incredibly resilient attitude. “I’ve been called and shamed and told I’m a jerk, I’m a ‘b,’ I’m a this, I’m a phobic person, I should get hurt, I should get killed[...]. But that’s just a small part of my life and I’m pretty proud of [my life],” she says. Jaz’s inspiring disposition is only further supported by her wife Shawn. When asked what made them decide — after so much success — to close Rivers of Honey in NYC, they were candid about their plans to begin a family but also to reinvent and rethink Rivers.

“When Rivers [was resurected] in 2004, there weren’t as many cabaret shows as there are now,” Shawn explains. “So we weren’t just a pipeline for WOW but for other venues. Now [you can] pick a weekend and see a show similar to Rivers of Honey.”

The couple seems humble about their accomplishments, shyly skirting around the idea that they are game-changers who paved the way for more spaces for women of color artists.

“I feel like we can change people’s lives [by] reminding them of the light they have inside them,” Jaz adds and that statement seems to be shared among supporters. Many people have reached out to Rivers of Honey to support not only financially but as volunteers as well. Jaz speaks about the opportunity presented by Rivers to consider the often forgotten ancestors, gods, and the beauty of women of color.

It is clear that Jaz and Shawn have no qualms about the effectiveness and importance of their show. They speak candidly and admirably about balancing family life and personal goals with social activism and art.

While they are no longer hosting shows at WOW, they’re looking to transition to other venues. They are still hosting their monthly show in Philadelphia and they’re seeking volunteers to archive and edit video and photos using online content management systems (visit their website if you would like to help).

The future of Rivers of Honey is still shaping. During this transition, we’re left with this poignant truth: Big things can be born out of just one person’s desire for change.

Cairo loves moleskin notebooks, considers Scrivener a godsend, and enjoys reading, dancing, and board games that involve doing silly things for points. You can find out more about her here: about.me/cairoamani.