Beyond the Diagnosis: Autism, Research and Real Lives

September 29, 2026 In Hamptons Happenings 10 Mins Read

photo by Kurt Leggard,
Mark Biondi , Executive Director of Luv Michael, Dr. Dimitri Kessaris, co-founder Luv Michael
Lisa Liberatore, MD Founder, Luv Michael
Father Alexander Karloutsos, Pastor of the Dormition of the Virgin Mary Cathedral.

What I Learned by Listening to Autistic Adults, Families and Researchers

I attended the Luv Michael conference with one goal: to listen. I wanted to better understand what families raising autistic children experience, what autistic adults want us to understand, and whether all the autism research we hear about is actually making a difference in people’s everyday lives.

I left thinking about something much simpler than genetics or laboratory research: independence. What does independence look like when going to the dentist can feel overwhelming? What happens when an autistic child becomes an adult? What if someone can speak beautifully in front of an audience, yet struggles privately with anxiety, sensory overload or completing everyday tasks? Most importantly, are we listening to autistic people themselves? Those questions stayed with me.

There Is No Single Autism Experience

One of the first things I learned is something we all need to understand: there isn’t one autism experience. During the research presentation, autism was compared to cancer in one specific way. Cancer is not one disease with one cause or one treatment. Autism is also incredibly diverse. Some autistic people live independently. Some need daily support. Some speak. Some are nonspeaking. Some have intellectual disabilities, while others do not. Some have additional medical conditions.

photo Kurt Leggard, Maria Kontaridis, PhD
Executive Director of MMRI

Researchers are increasingly looking at autism through a more personalized lens. Genetics may be part of the picture. Biology, development, environment and individual health may also matter. The increase in autism diagnoses is complicated, too. Greater awareness, broader access to services, changes in diagnostic practices and improvements in recognizing autism have all contributed to more people being identified. There is rarely a simple answer to a complicated question.

What Can Genetics Tell Us About Autism?

Autism can have a strong genetic component, but that does not mean scientists have discovered one “autism gene.” Researchers are studying many different genetic variations. Some may have relatively small effects, while rarer genetic changes can have larger effects. Some are inherited, while others occur spontaneously, known scientifically as de novovariants.

What surprised me was how much genetics can tell us and how much it still cannot. Genetic information may help researchers identify biological pathways, understand certain medical risks and give some families useful information. It cannot tell parents exactly who their child will become or predict someone’s personality, abilities, independence or future. It also cannot be used to simply blame one parent.

Environmental influences are also being studied, including parental age, premature birth, pregnancy complications, maternal health, certain prenatal exposures and air pollution. One point was emphasized: association does not mean causation.

The presentation also addressed vaccines. Current scientific evidence does not support vaccines as a cause of autism. Researchers continue to investigate infections, immune responses and other environmental factors that could potentially interact with genetic susceptibility. Some of those ideas remain hypotheses requiring much more research. I appreciated hearing that distinction. Science should be able to say, we don’t know yet.

A Trip to the Dentist Changed How I Thought About Accessibility

One of the simplest examples of the day may have taught me the most.

A dental professional described caring for an autistic patient who had difficulty tolerating a traditional dental appointment. Think about the experience: bright lights, unfamiliar smells, equipment noises, water, vibrations, someone touching your face and being asked to remain still. Many of us find the dentist uncomfortable. Imagine experiencing those sensations with heightened sensory sensitivity while struggling to communicate what is bothering you.

Photo Kurt Leggard, *David Forlano, DDS*

The dental team didn’t force the patient through a traditional appointment. They slowed everything down. One visit might involve sitting in the chair. Another might introduce the overhead light. Instruments, sounds, water and vibrations were introduced gradually. Some appointments were extremely short.

My first thought was how much patience that must require. Then I realized I was thinking about it the wrong way.

The patient wasn’t failing to adapt to healthcare. Healthcare was learning how to adapt to the patient.

That is accessibility.

Listening to an Autistic Adult Changed the Conversation

Photo Kurt Leggard, *David Cooke , Autism Advocate, Luv Michael Employee*

Research can explain a great deal. Hearing an autistic adult describe his own life gave the research meaning.

He spoke openly about executive functioning, anxiety, sensory overload and difficulty making decisions under pressure. He explained how someone can know that something needs to be done yet struggle to make their mind and body begin the task. He also described a period when managing his apartment, maintaining responsibilities and working became overwhelming.

What struck me was that many people meeting him might never recognize those challenges. He speaks for himself. He teaches. He advocates. He participates in his community. His disability can sometimes be invisible. That doesn’t mean the challenges disappear.

It also changed the way I thought about independence. We often describe independence as needing no help. Most of us rely on other people in some way. We call friends, ask family members for advice, hire people to help us and lean on our communities. Support does not erase independence. For some autistic adults, the right support can make greater independence possible.

The speaker talked about finding community and mentorship. He began teaching classes about things he enjoys, including Montauk, chess and board games. He also became an advocate, even speaking at a public meeting about housing and what independence means from his perspective as an autistic adult.

His voice mattered.

What Happens When Someone Cannot Tell Us What They Need?

He raised another question that has stayed with me: What about autistic people who cannot stand at a microphone and explain what they need?

He spoke about wanting to advocate for people with higher support needs, including nonspeaking autistic individuals and people who communicate differently.

Imagine knowing something hurts, feeling frightened or overwhelmed, yet not being able to put that experience into words other people understand. A behavior we interpret as “acting out” may sometimes be communication. It could mean pain, fear, sensory overload or simply, “Something is wrong and I don’t know how to tell you.”

That is why communication research matters. It is also why listening matters.

His Dreams Sound Familiar

Then he talked about his future. This was the part that brought everything together for me. He wants to work and support himself. He wants his own apartment. He hopes to meet someone, get married and have a family. Those aren’t unusual dreams. They are the same hopes many people have for their lives.

Autism does not erase someone’s desire for love, purpose, belonging, meaningful work or a home of their own. The question becomes whether our communities are creating enough pathways for those dreams to become possible.

This is where the work of Luv Michael became even more meaningful to me. Employment is more than a paycheck. Work can provide routine, responsibility, confidence, friendships, purpose and belonging.

Photo Kurt Leggard, *Chef Jack Formica, Jenna Carballo, resident of Luv Michael, Lisa Liberatore, MD Founder, Luv Michael*

There was also a real sense of community throughout the day. Dormition of the Virgin Mary Cathedral, a faith-based partner of Luv Michael, helped provide a welcoming space for the event. The kitchen did an amazing job, and the food was amazing. Everything was prepared fresh by the chef that day and served with care. It may seem like a small detail in a conference centered on autism, research and independence, but hospitality matters. Sharing a meal has a way of bringing people together, and that warmth was very much part of the experience

Families are also thinking about questions that many of us may never have considered. What happens after school? What happens when parents get older? Where will my child live? Will they have friends? Will they have meaningful work? Who will understand them?

Those aren’t abstract questions. They are questions about someone’s future.Autism Research Has to Follow Children Into Adulthood

Historically, much autism research has focused on children. Autistic children grow up.

Researchers are increasingly examining adult health, housing, employment, communication, relationships, safety and aging. They are also studying medical issues that may occur alongside autism, including gastrointestinal problems, sleep difficulties and epilepsy.

Researchers from the Masonic Medical Research Institute, or MMRI, also shared some of the work happening in their laboratories. Scientists can take cells from an individual and reprogram them into stem cells, which can then be developed into different types of cells for study. Researchers can create three-dimensional structures called brain organoids, laboratory models that allow scientists to study aspects of how brain cells develop and communicate.

If researchers identify a particular genetic change, they may be able to study how that change affects cells and biological pathways. That creates another question: Can understanding what is happening biologically eventually lead to an intervention that improves someone’s life?

MMRI researchers discussed projects involving specific genetic mutations, possible interactions between environmental exposures and genetic susceptibility, the gut microbiome, adult quality of life, and PANS and PANDAS. The projects are very different, which reinforces one of the biggest lessons of the day.

There isn’t one autism question to answer.

When Does Autism Research Really Matter?

After listening to the presentations, I don’t think the goal can simply be finding another gene or publishing another study.

Research matters when it reaches people.

Can someone communicate that they are in pain? Can someone receive dental care without being traumatized? Can an adult find meaningful employment? Can someone live safely in their own home? Can families get better answers? Can a nonspeaking person have a reliable way to communicate what they need? Can an autistic adult grow older with dignity, support and choices?

Those are outcomes people can feel.

I Came to Learn About Autism. I Left Thinking About Humanity.

I did not attend this conference as a scientist, physician or autism expert. I attended as a journalist, a mother and a person who wanted to understand.

There is still so much I don’t know. There is also so much science doesn’t know. What became clear to me is that autistic people cannot be reduced to statistics, diagnoses or debates about what causes autism. They are children who grow into adults. They are employees, teachers, neighbors, advocates, sons, daughters, friends and community members. Some may need a little support. Others may need significant lifelong support.

Every person deserves to be seen. Every family deserves to be heard. Every person deserves the opportunity to communicate in whatever way works for them.

Research is important. Housing is important. Employment is important. Healthcare is important. Perhaps the most important thing we can do first is listen.

That is where understanding begins.

Real Talk. Real People. Real lives.

Photo Gallery

other articles to read: https://hamptonsmouthpiece.com/luv-michael-real-families-and-a-community-that-said-yes/

In Hamptons Happenings

Summer of Soul, The Party Harlem Remembered & History Nearly Forgot.

September 28, 2026 In Hamptons Happenings 6 Mins Read

Imagine seeing Stevie Wonder, Nina Simone, Gladys Knight and Sly & the Family Stone in your neighborhood park. Now imagine telling people about it years later and having them question whether it really happened. With that lineup, I understand wanting receipts. Fortunately, someone had a camera, and the Summer of Soul documentary brings that remarkable moment in Harlem’s history back into view.

That is the heart of what drew me into my conversation with Joseph Patel, a producer of Summer of Soul (…Or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised). Ahead of its Southampton screening, we talked about music, memory and what happens when a community’s story slips out of the history people know.

The documentary returns to the big screen on September 30 for Part II of the Hamptons Black Film, Art & Culture Series, in partnership with the Bridgehampton Child Care & Recreational Center and hosted by Southampton Playhouse.

The chance to see these legendary artists perform in the documentary is reason enough to go. My conversation with Patel made the stories behind the music just as compelling. After the screening, enjoy a Q&A with Patel and live music by Charles Certain & the Certain Moves Trio.

What is Summer of Soul about?

Directed by Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson, Summer of Soul tells the story of the 1969 Harlem Cultural Festival, which brought music and crowds to Mount Morris Park, now Marcus Garvey Park, over six Sundays. Released in 2021, the documentary won an Oscar and a Grammy in 2022.

Some footage aired at the time, but much remained obscure for decades, as UC Davis reported. The film brings those performances together with interviews and historical footage to show what that summer meant to the people who lived it.

When I asked Joseph whether making the documentary changed what he notices or preserves in his own life, his answer was clear: “Yeah, undoubtedly.” He explained that the experience changed how he views history, community and culture. Even an event featuring some of music’s biggest names could be pushed out of public memory. For someone who has spent his career telling stories, the film reinforced a personal responsibility.

A still from *Summer Of Soul (Or, When The Revolution Could Not Be Televised)* by Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson, an official selection of the U.S. Documentary Competition at the 2021 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute | photo by Mass Distraction Media.

“I think there’s a duty to remember those stories, to tell those stories, so that history never forgets.”

The story that stayed with me

Patel told me about Musa Jackson, who attended the festival as a young child. Years later, Jackson remembered the 5th Dimension’s outfits, children with balloons, food vendors and people watching from nearby windows. According to Patel, those details matched the team’s footage and photographs.

People had questioned Jackson’s memories over the years. Eventually, he began to wonder himself. When the filmmakers showed him the footage, he cried. Something he had carried inside him for decades was right there on the screen.

That hit home. My mother lived in Harlem in 1969, and she loved a good time. Could she have been in that crowd? She died in 2017, so I cannot ask her now. The possibility reminded me how easily we put off conversations, assuming there will always be another chance.

Finding those memories took work. Patel said the team distributed flyers at Harlem churches, social clubs, record stores and bookstores. Roughly 40 to 50 people responded. Some recalled other years or different events, which meant checking details without making anyone feel small.

“You can’t think you know everything going into finding a story,” Patel said. “You have to still be curious.”

That is real talk, real people to me. You listen, stay curious and give someone room to tell you something you did not know.

Great music has people behind it

Patel also described Marilyn McCoo discussing how some listeners assumed the 5th Dimension was white because of the group’s sound. Performing for a welcoming Black audience in Harlem meant something deeply personal to her. We may know a song by heart without knowing what the person singing it was carrying.

The film also looks beyond the stage. Patel pointed to archival interviews about the 1969 moon landing, contrasting excitement over the achievement with Black New Yorkers questioning the expense while people at home faced hunger and hardship. During our call, I wondered whether asking that same question today would bring some of the same responses. The conversation felt familiar. Who gets celebrated? Whose needs get attention? Who gets to tell the story?

That brought our conversation back to the Hamptons. Through Hamptons Mouthpiece and my Sag Harbor pages, I want people to see the families, cultures and everyday lives that do not always make the familiar picture of this area.

Patel said he did not know the Hamptons well enough to comment on its Black communities. His broader advice, however, felt relevant to anyone trying to preserve a local story.

“If you see that a history is not being covered or a story isn’t being told, you don’t need to ask for permission. You can go tell it yourself.”

We can start with the photographs in a drawer, the neighbor with a lifetime of memories or the family gathering someone thinks is too ordinary to document. Real talk, real people means recognizing that those lives matter while people are still here to share them.

Why make time for Summer of Soul?

You can come for Stevie Wonder and leave thinking about your own family. You can recognize the songs and discover something new about the people who performed them. That combination of music, joy and lived experience is what makes this story worth your time.

My conversation with Patel left me eager to watch the full film. Southampton audiences will have the added opportunity to ask one of its producers about the choices behind it, then enjoy live music together. That is a pretty good reason to give the couch the night off.

See Summer of Soul in Southampton

Make an evening of the music and the conversation:

When: Wednesday, September 30, 2026, at 7 p.m.
Where: Southampton Playhouse, 43 Hill Street, Southampton.
After the film: A Q&A with Joseph Patel, followed by Charles Certain & the Certain Moves Trio in the courtyard.
Admission: $16, including reception and discussion, according to The Center.

Reserve your seat for Summer of Soul and bring someone who loves music, a good story or both. For a taste of the performances, watch the trailer.

From exploring the roots of funk in Part I, We Want the Funk!, to revisiting Harlem’s unforgettable summer in Part II, Summer of Soul, this series keeps the music and our stories in the conversation. That is what Real Talk, Real People is all about. What family or community memory do you wish someone had captured? Share it in the comments. Your story might inspire someone else to tell theirs.

Hamptons Mouthpiece is a media sponsor of this event.

In Hamptons Happenings

WE WANT THE FUNK! The Beat That Connected James Brown, Prince and Hip-Hop

September 28, 2026 In Hamptons Happenings 8 Mins Read

Some music you listen to. Funk you feel.

You know exactly what I mean. The bass line hits, your shoulders start moving and suddenly you are tapping your foot without even realizing it. Someone across the room catches your eye because they know the song too.

Now you’re both moving.

That is funk.

On a rainy Sunday in the Hamptons, I attended the Hamptons Black Film, Art & Culture Series, hosted by The Center in partnership with Guild Hall, for a screening of WE WANT THE FUNK!

Directed and produced by acclaimed filmmakers Stanley Nelson and Nicole London, WE WANT THE FUNK! explores the roots of funk and follows that unmistakable groove through James Brown, Sly and the Family Stone, Parliament-Funkadelic, Fela Kuti, Prince and eventually hip-hop.

I went expecting a little nostalgia and some great music. What I didn’t expect was to leave thinking about how connected generations of music really are.

Especially hip-hop.

That was my rabbit-hole moment.

Funk Was More Than a Good Beat

If you grew up with funk, the music brings back memories.

James Brown. The Ohio Players. Sly and the Family Stone. Parliament-Funkadelic. Chaka Khan. Labelle. Prince.

Remember when we actually danced?

I mean really danced. No phones in our hands. Nobody stopped halfway through a song to check the video. Nobody cared about getting the perfect shot for social media.

Thank goodness for that. Some of those dance moves are probably better left undocumented.

We were having fun.

WE WANT THE FUNK! reminded me, however, that something much deeper was happening underneath that music.

Funk emerged during a period of tremendous cultural change in Black America. It was expressive, sexy, political, spiritual, creative and unapologetic.

James Brown sits right in the middle of that story. His emphasis on “the one,” the strong first beat of the measure, changed the way musicians approached rhythm.

You don’t need a music degree to understand it. Put on James Brown and your body will probably find “the one” before your brain does.

His music also carried a message.

When “Say It Loud, I’m Black and I’m Proud” arrived in 1968, those words carried enormous meaning. Black pride was being put directly into the music.

Funk could make you dance while still making a statement.

That combination of freedom, pride and joy is part of what made the music so powerful.

Everybody Wanted the Funk

One of the most interesting parts of WE WANT THE FUNK! is seeing how far the music traveled.

Funk wasn’t going to stay neatly inside one musical category, one community or even one country.

Elton John grew up in England listening to American R&B. His “Bennie and the Jets” later found an enthusiastic audience on Black radio in America, and Elton would eventually make a memorable appearance on Soul Train.

David Bowie was listening too.

American soul and funk became important influences on Bowie’s music during the 1970s. Go back and listen to “Fame”after spending some time with James Brown.

You may hear it differently.

That is what I love about music. Someone creates something in one city. Someone thousands of miles away hears it, adds something and sends it back into the world.

Then somebody else takes it somewhere new.

Prince Was Listening Too

Prince didn’t just appear in Minneapolis one morning wearing purple and decide to change music. There was a musical lineage behind him. The Midwest had become an important home for funk, with musicians and sounds moving through cities including Detroit, Dayton, Cincinnati, Chicago and Minneapolis. Prince was listening to what came before him.

Then he did what Prince did. He took funk, rock, R&B, sexuality, fashion and freedom of expression and created a musical world that was completely his own. Prince could walk onto a stage wearing something most men wouldn’t dare leave the house in, pick up a guitar and somehow make everyone else look underdressed.

That was part of the freedom of funk too. The music gave artists room to be themselves.

Did Funk Travel to Africa, or Was It Going Home?

The story becomes even richer when funk crosses the Atlantic. James Brown became enormously influential in Africa. The language may have been different, but apparently nobody needed a translation for that groove.

Nigerian musician Fela Kuti, working with drummer Tony Allen and other musicians, blended influences from American funk and jazz with African musical traditions to help develop Afrobeat.

That connection stayed with me.

African musical traditions helped shape Black American music. Generations later, funk traveled from America across the Atlantic, where African musicians heard it, transformed it and created something new.

It made me wonder:

Was funk traveling to Africa, or was part of the rhythm simply going home?

That is one of those questions that stays with you long after the credits roll.

Then Came Hip-Hop, and This Fascinated Me

I knew hip-hop sampled James Brown. I knew Parliament-Funkadelic had been sampled. What I hadn’t really stopped to appreciate was just how deeply funk lives inside hip-hop’s DNA. Those drums, bass lines and breaks became building blocks for another generation.

Young DJs took records and found the parts that made people move. They extended the break, mixed records together and created something entirely different. The turntable became an instrument. Then someone grabbed a microphone.

Hip-hop.

Suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about young people abandoning the music we grew up with. I was thinking about how they reinvented it. One generation’s records became another generation’s creative playground. That is pretty incredible when you think about it.

Funk Never Left. It Just Changed Clothes.

That may be my biggest takeaway from WE WANT THE FUNK!

Look at the musical family tree.

James Brown changed the groove.
Sly and the Family Stone blended funk, soul and rock.
George Clinton and Parliament-Funkadelic took funk into Afrofuturism and the Mothership.
Fela Kuti helped transform those influences into Afrobeat.
Elton John and David Bowie showed how far Black American musical influence traveled.
Prince carried funk into another generation.
Hip-hop sampled those records and reinvented them again.

Your parents may have danced to James Brown. You may have danced to Prince. Your children grew up with hip-hop. Your grandchildren may be listening to music today that contains pieces of all three.

The music changed. The funk never left.

Real Talk, Real People: Joy Matters Too

There was another message in WE WANT THE FUNK! that stayed with me. Joy.

Funk exploded during complicated times. Black Americans were confronting racism, inequality, economic struggles and enormous social change. Still, people danced. They created. They laughed. They dressed outrageously. They imagined spaceships. They built community. They found joy. Sometimes we talk so much about struggle that we forget joy is also part of our history.

That feels relevant today.

Life gets heavy. Work gets heavy. Family gets heavy. The news can certainly get heavy. Sometimes you have worried enough, analyzed enough and carried enough. Turn up the music.

Joy doesn’t mean you aren’t paying attention to what is happening around you. Sometimes joy gives you the energy to keep going.

That is Real Talk, Real People.

Our music carries our stories. It carries our memories, culture, struggles, celebrations and pieces of who we were into the next generation. Sometimes all it takes is one bass line to bring everything back.

The Funk Didn’t Stop When the Film Ended

The credits rolled, but thankfully, nobody was ready to go home just yet. After the screening, attendees headed into the garden for a celebration of funk, with delicious food, conversation and, naturally, plenty of funk music. The afternoon also became a birthday celebration for The Center’s Executive Director, Michelle Bonnie Cannon.

It was actually the perfect ending.

We had just spent the afternoon watching a documentary about music that brought people together across generations, cultures and continents. Then we walked outside and did exactly that. We ate, talked, laughed, celebrated Michelle and, of course, we danced. You might even catch me making an appearance on the dance floor.

Seriously, who can sit still while funk music is playing? Certainly not I.

Can you?

That was probably my favorite part of the entire experience. The funk didn’t stay on the movie screen. It followed us into the garden and became what this music has always been about.

Real people. Community. Memories. Music. Joy.

What is that one funk song that comes on and instantly takes you back?

In Hamptons Happenings

The Apollo: Where Music Meets Legacy

August 25, 2026 In Hamptons Happenings 6 Mins Read

The Apollo in the Hamptons was literally ALL THAT AND A BAG OF CHIPS.

Last year, I covered Apollo in the Hamptons from a distance. I was unable to attend the 2025 event, yet the story still resonated with me because of my Harlem roots and the Apollo’s connection to Black culture, music and history. This year was different. After sharing my 2026 pre-event editorial about the Apollo’s return and the historic connection between Harlem and Sag Harbor, I finally had the opportunity to experience it for myself. On August 1, the Apollo brought the spirit of Harlem to EHP Resort & Marina in East Hampton for an evening filled with music, dancing, great food and familiar faces. I arrived ready to cover the event and was given one simple instruction: Have a great time. How refreshing was that? I took those words seriously.

Apollo in THE HAMPTONS 2026 — photo: Kurt. H. Leggard

Before August 1, I would have said the best party I attended this summer was my 60th birthday celebration. I might be slightly biased, of course, but Apollo in the Hamptons came pretty close. Let’s call it a tie.

Brownstone took us back with songs many of us grew up listening to, while Estelle brought her unmistakable sound and energy. DJ Aktive kept the music moving, Bobby Brown brought another level of excitement, and DJ Cassidy’s Pass the Mic turned the evening into a celebration of music across generations.

There is something powerful about hearing a song connected to a particular time in your life. The first few notes play, the memories return, and suddenly everyone around you is singing. Nearly 300 people danced, laughed and enjoyed being together that evening.

The Apollo has understood the power of music to bring people together for generations.

“The Apollo Brought Harlem to the Hamptons”

Seeing so many familiar faces from Sag Harbor made the evening even more meaningful for me. Harlem and Sag Harbor have shared a connection for generations. Black families from New York City came east and established communities where families could own property, gather and create traditions that continue today.

I was born and raised in Harlem and later built a life connected to the East End. Standing in East Hampton celebrating the Apollo while surrounded by people from Sag Harbor felt like two parts of my world coming together.

The Apollo brought Harlem to the Hamptons, yet in many ways, Harlem was already here.

“Growing Up in Harlem, The Apollo Was Part of 125th Street”

This is where Real Talk. Real People. becomes personal.

Growing up in Harlem, the Apollo wasn’t a tourist destination or simply a famous theater we read about. It was part of 125th Street and part of our neighborhood. The marquee, the crowds and the excitement surrounding Amateur Night were woven into the experience of Harlem.

Sometimes you don’t fully understand the importance of the places around you when you are a child. Time gives you perspective, and I understand the Apollo differently today.

Harlem has changed tremendously since my childhood. Change is inevitable, and progress is necessary. Preserving the places that tell the story of a community is equally important.

When I walk down 125th Street today, I still want to see the Apollo marquee shining. I want to see people gathering outside. I want young artists walking through those doors wondering if this might be their moment.

Since 1934, the Apollo has helped shape American music and culture while providing a stage for Black artists, including during periods when opportunities on other stages were limited. Ella Fitzgerald, James Brown, Billie Holiday, Aretha Franklin, Stevie Wonder and countless others became part of its extraordinary history.

Their names are legendary, yet the opportunity the Apollo represented is just as important as the names themselves. It gave artists a place to be seen, heard and celebrated.

“Another Name Deserves the Chance to Appear on That Marquee”

The Apollo’s Historic Theater is undergoing the most comprehensive restoration and modernization in its history. The transformation will improve accessibility and infrastructure while creating greater opportunities for artists, audiences, education and the Harlem community.

The recent relighting of the famous marquee represents more than a renovation. It signals that the Apollo is preparing for its next chapter.

Preserving this historic theater should never mean turning it into a museum where we only talk about who performed there decades ago. Another generation needs to perform on that stage. Another young artist needs the opportunity to experience Amateur Night. Another audience needs to discover someone they have never heard of before. Another name deserves the chance to appear on that marquee.

This year’s Apollo in the Hamptons weekend also included the inaugural Young Patrons Day Party, which welcomed more than 250 philanthropists, entrepreneurs, creatives and community leaders. Bringing a younger generation into the conversation matters. Cultural institutions cannot survive on nostalgia alone. Each generation has to understand why these places matter and decide that their stories are worth carrying forward.

The August 1 benefit supported artistic programming, arts education, artist development, community engagement and the Historic Theater restoration.

The music brought everyone together. The legacy gave the evening its deeper meaning.

“That History Deserves a Future”

I went to Apollo in the Hamptons expecting great music and a fun summer evening. I certainly got both. I danced, laughed, caught up with friends and had an opportunity to simply enjoy myself.

I also left thinking about the little girl I once was growing up in Harlem and how much of our history is tied to places we sometimes take for granted until they are gone.

When I return to 125th Street, I want the Apollo to still be there. I want children growing up in Harlem today to understand what happened inside that building and why it matters. Most importantly, I want a young artist looking at that marquee to believe their name could be up there one day.

That is why supporting the Apollo matters to me.

It isn’t simply about preserving a building. It is about preserving the music, the people, the opportunities, the memories and the Harlem story that lives inside it while making room for stories that haven’t been written yet.

Apollo in the Hamptons gave us one incredible summer evening. The Apollo in Harlem has given us generations of history, and that history deserves a future.

That is Real Talk. Real People.

As for Apollo in the Hamptons? It was absolutely ALL THAT AND A BAG OF CHIPS.

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In Beyond the East End Event

Dr. Chester Pierce: Understanding Microaggressions

August 21, 2026 In Beyond the East End Event 9 Mins Read

Nearly 60 years after Dr. Chester Pierce gave us the language of microaggressions, we’re still using it because we’re still experiencing them. Maybe understanding the man behind the word can help us better understand one another.

I thought I understood the word microaggressions. Then I watched LIMITLESS: The Dr. Chester Pierce Story and sat down with director and producer Gloria Respress-Churchwell during the Martha’s Vineyard African American Film Festival.

LIMITLESS
The Dr. Chester Pierce Story
photo credit: Butter Pecan Productions

Dr. Chester Pierce was a Harvard-trained psychiatrist and physician, athlete, researcher, educator, mentor and humanitarian. His work took him from Harvard to Antarctica and even Sesame Street. Yet as impressive as his accomplishments are, I found myself thinking less about his résumé and more about the experiences that shaped the man.

What was it like to repeatedly enter spaces where he was the only Black person? How did those experiences influence his understanding of racism and human behavior? Most importantly, what can his work teach all of us today?

That’s where my conversation with Gloria became much bigger than a discussion about a documentary.

It became Real Talk for Real People.

Before He Named Microaggressions, He Lived Them

To understand Dr. Chester Pierce, Gloria told me, you have to understand his parents. His mother believed deeply in community and service, while his father worked at the Nassau Country Club and had limited formal education but tremendous awareness. People sometimes spoke freely around him as though he weren’t there. He listened, absorbed what he heard and brought those lessons home to his sons, helping them understand how to navigate spaces that weren’t always designed to welcome Black men.

All three sons eventually attended Ivy League schools. Chester chose Harvard.

Some of the lessons his parents taught had nothing to do with academics. Gloria shared that Pierce was taught never to pose for a photograph with his arm around a white woman. That may sound unimaginable today. For a young Black man of his generation, it was a lesson about safety. Those experiences matter when we consider the man who would eventually give us language for something many people experienced but couldn’t always explain.

What Exactly Is a Microaggression?

This was the part of my conversation with Gloria that I really wanted to understand.

I told her I’ve always struggled somewhat with the word micro. There can be nothing small about repeatedly experiencing something that makes you feel as though you don’t belong.

Gloria explained that blatant discrimination is usually easier to recognize. A racial slur is obvious. Segregation is obvious. A microaggression can be much more subtle. It might be a comment, assumption or behavior that communicates something about a person’s race or identity without anyone explicitly saying it. Sometimes you leave the interaction wondering:

Did that really happen? Did they mean it that way? Am I reading too much into it?

The person on the other side of the interaction may be thinking something entirely different:

That’s not what I meant at all.

That is where I believe we have an opportunity for conversation.

Understanding microaggressions doesn’t require us to assume that every uncomfortable interaction is racist, nor does it require us to assume that every person who commits a microaggression intended to hurt someone.

It asks us to consider something more nuanced:

Can our intentions be different from the impact of our actions?

Two People Can Experience the Same Room Differently

I shared something with Gloria that I’ve experienced many times. I can walk into a room filled almost entirely with white people and immediately recognize that I’m the only Black person there. A white friend can walk into that same room beside me and never notice. Neither one of us has done anything wrong. We’re simply experiencing the same room through different histories. My awareness comes from having spent a lifetime noticing when I’m the only one. My friend may never have needed to develop that awareness.

Pierce knew that experience well.

One image in LIMITLESS shows him with his Harvard football teammates. He is the only Black man. During his junior year, Harvard traveled to the University of Virginia to play football in the Jim Crow South. Pierce encountered segregation that many of his teammates from the North had never personally experienced. His teammates could enter through the front. Pierce could not. When he was required to use another entrance, Gloria told me his teammates followed him.

I loved learning that.

They couldn’t experience racism exactly as Pierce did, but they could recognize that their friend was being treated differently and choose how they responded. To me, that’s an early example of something we talk about frequently today: allyship. Sometimes allyship isn’t knowing exactly what to say. Sometimes it’s simply deciding not to leave someone standing alone.

When a Small Moment Has a Larger Impact

This conversation became personal for me. My husband and I moved to Sag Harbor year-round to raise our daughters in 2001. We loved the community, but our experience also came with challenges. Our oldest daughter was one of only two Black students in her grade. In high school, she was earning grades in the 90s. When students were being considered for AP English, the teacher who would teach the class told us she couldn’t recommend our daughter because she would be the “weakest link.” I remember being confused.

If her grades demonstrated that she could handle the work, why wasn’t she considered ready?

I can’t tell you what that teacher intended. I don’t know what was in her mind, and I think that’s important to acknowledge.

I can tell you about the impact.

My husband and I worried that our daughter wouldn’t be supported in that classroom, so we decided not to place her in the class.

At the time, we believed we were protecting her. Looking back, I can also recognize that her classmates who took AP courses received academic preparation she didn’t have before entering college.

That’s one way I understand microaggressions today.

The moment itself may appear small to someone on the outside, but sometimes that moment influences a decision, the decision affects an opportunity, and the impact continues long after the original conversation has ended.

“I Didn’t See It”

One of the most difficult parts of talking about microaggressions is that another person may genuinely not see what you see. I’ve heard, “I didn’t see that.” Maybe they didn’t. The problem comes when “I didn’t see it” becomes “therefore it didn’t happen.”

There’s a difference.

Gloria and I kept returning to one word during our conversation: empathy. Empathy doesn’t require us to have identical experiences. It doesn’t even require us to immediately understand everything someone else is feeling.

It asks us to remain curious.

What happened?
Why did that affect you that way?
Is there something about this experience that I’m not seeing?

Those questions create room for conversation instead of immediately putting two people on opposite sides.

Racism, Mental Health and Resilience

Pierce understood that repeated experiences with racism could have psychological consequences, which made me wonder about something much more personal.

What did all of this do to him?

Gloria couldn’t definitively answer that question. Pierce wrote and spoke about racism, mental health and microaggressions, but she hadn’t uncovered much where he explicitly discussed his own emotional wounds. That left us wondering whether a Black psychiatrist of his generation would have felt comfortable publicly acknowledging that vulnerability.

We may never know.

What we do know is that Pierce continued moving forward.

I asked Gloria whether our celebration of Black resilience can sometimes cause us to overlook why that resilience was necessary in the first place.

Her answer offered an interesting perspective. Racism is something another person can do to you. Resilience is something you can control.

Pierce couldn’t control another person’s prejudice, but he could decide whether it would determine the boundaries of his life.

He became a physician and psychiatrist, conducted research in Antarctica, contributed to Sesame Street and mentored generations of people.

Still, resilience doesn’t necessarily mean an experience didn’t hurt.

It means you found a way to keep moving.

Why This Conversation Still Matters

Nearly 60 years after Dr. Chester Pierce gave us the language of microaggressions, we’re still using it because we’re still experiencing them.

That doesn’t mean we haven’t made progress.

Gloria pointed to mental health as one example. Conversations about therapy, anxiety, trauma and emotional wellness are far more open today than when Pierce entered psychiatry, including within Black communities.

There is also greater awareness of how our different backgrounds can shape the way we experience the same schools, workplaces, neighborhoods and social spaces.

Maybe the next step isn’t arguing over whether every interaction qualifies as a microaggression.

Maybe it’s becoming more comfortable asking questions.

Understanding a microaggression doesn’t require a white person to feel guilty for being white, just as sharing an experience with racism doesn’t require a Black person to prove what another person intended.

There is room between those two positions.
That room is where listening happens.
It’s where someone can say, “I didn’t realize you experienced it that way. Tell me more.”
It’s where another person can explain without automatically assuming the listener is incapable of understanding.
It’s where empathy begins.

That is what stayed with me after watching LIMITLESS: The Dr. Chester Pierce Story and talking with Gloria. Dr. Chester Pierce gave us more than a word. He gave us language that can help us talk about experiences that are sometimes difficult to see, explain or understand. Nearly six decades later, perhaps the goal shouldn’t simply be to decide who is right or wrong. Maybe we should start by trying to understand what the other person sees.

That’s a conversation worth having. Real Talk. Real People.