Of the 8.8 million New York City residents, nearly 1 in 5 trace their roots to the Caribbean. While there’s no lack of parties and festivals dedicated to Caribbean pride in NYC, many in the diaspora—especially those in the LGBTQ+ community—fight for greater representation that embraces the full spectrum of Caribbean identity. Those activists include creatives like Christopher Udemezue, aka Neon Christina, a Brooklyn-based visual artist, promoter and community organizer.
Founder of the queer-focused platforms Ragga NYC and Connek JA, Udemezue is passionate about blending his abundant artistic talent and people skills to create artwork, events and experiences that highlight the complicated history and rich beauty of his Jamaican heritage.
We had the chance to catch up with him as Ragga NYC finished a yearlong celebration of its 10th anniversary.
You were born and raised on Long Island in a Jamaican immigrant household. What was it like growing up in that environment?
Christopher Udemezue: I grew up in Uniondale, a suburb of New York City and one of the few majority Black suburbs in the country at the time. We were proud of where we were from, but there was this internal conflict. There was a sentiment of: We’re here in America for a better life. Let’s not look back too much. I got in trouble for speaking patois. It was like a denial of where we’re from. My mom worked really hard to put us there and give us opportunities, but I definitely needed to go find myself. So I moved to New York City for school.
What was it like moving to the City and finally having the space to embrace all of those parts of you?
CU: It was 180 degrees. I didn’t grow up with a lot of white folks around, so when I came to the City, I experienced a rush of racism for the first time. It reminded me of why I needed to be so proud to be Black, which is reflected in everything I do. The flip side of that was that I met amazing people from all different backgrounds and queer expressions that encouraged me and taught me a lot of things I didn’t know. That’s how I became Christina.
Photo: Justin J Wee
What is the story behind Neon Christina?
CU: The short story is that I met Antonio Blair, the mother of the House of Ladosha, at Parsons School of Design. He said, “I’m gonna call you Christina. I think you need to acknowledge the part of yourself that you’re hiding.”
It’s an acknowledgment of me loving all of myself, even in small things. In high school, I used to walk with my back hunched because I always got made fun of because of my butt. Now when everyone sees me twerking on Instagram, that’s not just because I’m a thot—I used to have a lot of shame around my body. To carry the name Christina and be proud of who I am has been a journey, and it’s been through the amazing queer people and creatives who are right here in the City.
So much of your visual art is about reclaiming and celebrating the body in all of its forms. When did you first recognize that you wanted to be an artist in this way?
CU: Growing up bullied, dealing with suburban life and the chaos of family trauma—making art always brought me peace. If I could just draw or make something beautiful, it was therapy. So I studied both graphic design and fine arts at Parsons. The body, and portraiture specifically, called to me because I fell in love with baroque and Renaissance art, but I couldn’t see myself.
Édouard Glissant, this poet from Martinique, has a quote that’s been a tentpole for a lot of my work: “When one knows the tremendous strength of their roots, and the arid fraternity among them, their conventional exotic image fades away.... In this place of acceptance and denial, this line of trees contains the essentials of wisdom: It teaches moderation and at the same time inspires audacity.”
Artwork by Christopher Udemezue, “Remember me on those nights where the crickets go still and the sweet smell of mango keeps your fingers sticky.” Courtesy of the artist
In his work, Glissant talks a lot about taking pride in the communal. There’s a lot of bickering within the Caribbean community but also a power we have when we actually join together. I wanted to reclaim this work that I was seeing in the art history books but breathe life into these stories. I’m bringing the queerness because it has existed since the beginning—there are so many queer orishas [Yoruba deities] and so many queer gods. I’m on a self-journey to learn through my work but also to reflect the breadth of queerness, Blackness and storytelling.
Over the years you’ve created opportunities for other queer Caribbean artists, especially through your collective, Ragga NYC, which just celebrated a decade of events. What inspired its founding?
CU: I felt like I missed hearing Caribbean music, so I started Ragga because I wanted to motherf—ing dance. It’s been exciting to remind people just how much Caribbean people are in everything. From techno to rock to reggae, soul, gospel and country, we’re everywhere, and not just music. That’s what I was trying to hone in on with Ragga outside of just partying, so I started to create other spaces like gallery shows and poetry readings and fundraisers to continue to make it grow. The Ragga project has been showing people just how wide and elastic Blackness is.
Photographs from Ragga Nyc parties from 2017 - 2023. Photo: Amandaliz Taylor and Julianx Camilo
The project has expanded in recent years with the founding of Connek JA, a grassroots organization providing resources and networking opportunities for queer Jamaicans, both on the island and in the diaspora. What inspired that work, and what has been the impact?
CU: I’d been told that if I went to Jamaica, they would slit my throat [when I step] off the plane, and I just refused to believe it. If I’m nervous about something, I walk into that space because I will grow. So about seven years ago I got on a plane to Jamaica, and I met Chaday Emmanuel, the other half of Connek. They really changed my life. All these amazing queer and trans people in Jamaica are living their lives full of joy. They’re in their Paris Is Burning moment. They’re fighting for their rights. They’ve been there thriving and fighting for their rights the whole time. There’s tension there that I’m always navigating working in the culture sector, but at least I know I’m always doing something on the ground—it’s literally called Connek because it’s a connection.
Presentation showcasing early activists in Kingston, Jamaica fighting for queer rights on display during the Connek Ja x Yardy World x Ragga Nyc Dinner in 2021. Photo: Courtesy of Ragga NYC
Photographs from the first queer ball in Jamaica featuring Connek Ja supporter XieXie Stush and the Kingston based legendary Haus of Yemoja. Photo: SWill Digital Media
Fast-forward to throwing the first queer ball in Jamaica in 2022, and now we’ve done three. At the last Doll Ball, we had upward of 500 queer people come out in looks. It’s a very expensive thing to put on. We get a very bougie space, and everyone comes to feel safe. I’ve met so many people living as their best selves for the first time in such a big space, and it’s been the joy of my life. It’s history making in a way that I don’t think I will understand until I’m long gone. Seven years ago I thought these people would want to kill me, or that people like me didn’t even exist there. I get to spread this knowledge and this joy that change is coming. We can do this, and we have to do it together.
What’s your best advice for queer or Caribbean folks coming to NYC who are looking to tap into the community?
CU: It’s important to come in with a lot of respect for the history and for the vastness that is New York. Find your people, but never forget that you are just one scene in a huge city. There’s a whole world of nightlife that’s in Brooklyn, in the Bronx, in Queens, and that’s just nightlife. Your people are here. Come openhearted, ready to congregate and be a part of this beautiful queer Caribbean community. And come excited to envision the future. We’re here to take you in.
Photo: Justin J Wee
Rapid-fire time! What’s your favorite place for a night out?
CU: To get a drink, I like the Rum Bar in Crown Heights, but for a night out I really like going dancing at Basement. But I think it’s not so much about venues; it’s promoters or DJs. I encourage anyone coming to New York to find the movers and the shakers first, and then see where they’re throwing the party. Check out and support parties like Out N Bad, Bodyhack, RNR and my new party, Creatures of the Night.
To grab a quick bite?
I eat more than Caribbean food, but Caribbean focus: Lakou, Ital Kitchen, Natural Blend, A&A Bake Doubles Shop, Uptown Veg and Patty Haus.
For a full meal?
There’s this really beautiful Caribbean vegan restaurant called HAAM, for Healthy as a Motha, which is so good. Tatiana is also a fab restaurant by chef Kwame Onwuachi that’s been on best restaurant lists and is inspired by the Caribbean.
To see some art?
I don’t go as often as I should, but I really love going to MoMA, the New Museum, the Whitney and the Met. I try not to forget that as a New Yorker, you’re really blessed to have all this in one place.
To buy art supplies?
The Compleat Sculptor, in Chelsea. A lot of the work that I’m making with sculpture and with resin is very experimental, and they’re super friendly and talk me through the ideas.
Contributors
Chala June is a genderqueer Congolese American writer, chef and artist based in Brooklyn. Their work examining the intersections of culture and identity has appeared in Bon Appétit, Them and Condé Nast Traveler.
Justin J Wee is a visual artist working primarily in photography and performance. His practice spans a variety of subjects but always strives to capture their magnitude and magnificence.
Ani Hovhannisyan is a New York–based stylist known for her distinct approach to menswear. Ani merges minimalism with maximalism and clean lines with pops of color and unexpected shapes.
