Pastor Cue Jn-Marie: Taking to The Streets

Sirens blare as police cars race up 5th street in Downtown, Los Angeles. The 16 bus ambles behind making a reappearance every few minutes or so. Folks pass up and down the Skid Row sidewalk, sometimes stopping to rest in one of the folding chairs just like the one I’m sitting in. Above the chatter of the city, a solid voice booms through speakers. 

“Can I preach tonight?”

Pastor Cue Jn-Marie, leader of The Row, has a mic in hand, and is animatedly relaying a message, his teachings garnering hums of agreement from the people. He and other members of the congregation have been serving the Skid Row community for years, and are actively continuing that mission today. The church, aptly named The Church Without Walls, takes place on the corner of 5th and Wall Street every Friday night, come rain or shine. 

As I considered the opportunity through Sacred Resistance to highlight organizers in the community, Pastor Cue was the very first person that I thought of. Over the last year or so, I have not only gotten to integrate into the lively community that The Row has to offer, but I’ve also gotten to see him in action. From his work with CLUE Justice, to his mobile social enterprise, The Hip Hop Smoothie Shop, to the non-profit he helped start, Creating Justice LA, Pastor Cue is deeply connected with his community.

His work is a testament to activism that very literally takes to the streets- whether that activism is through a protest, or the weekly meal distribution that The Row offers to its neighbors. 

I sat down with Pastor Cue to talk more about his ongoing work. 

Thank you for having a call with me! I’ve heard this story before, but for the sake of the folks reading along, would you mind telling me about your beginnings working in Skid Row? 

We started in Skid Row about 16 and a half years ago, 17 years in August. All we did in the very beginning was we went out and did mutual aid. Spiritual work, in terms of teaching, preaching and doing Bible studies. We always preached the Word, but we also provided meals and warm clothes in winter. 

I’ve heard you use the term “Street Theology” before. How would you define that?

Well, I think you know the model for that would be how Jesus came from outside the system that was already in place in his culture and engaged some fisherman. He began to challenge how they interpreted scripture, and how they lived it out. So for us, “street theology” is really engaging where people are and actually looking at the Scripture and looking at how the Scripture can come alive in the streets.

We believe in both abolition theology and street theology. Like Dr. Cone said, theology is not God’s speech, it’s human speech. It’s what we say about what God’s said. So it’s influenced by hip hop culture, by those who live on the streets. You won’t see those same ideas in organized religion. We respect rituals, but we don’t feel like we need them to connect to God. 

Playing off of that, can you talk a little bit about Hip Hop Smoothie Shop?

For us Hip Hop Smoothie Shop is late. We should've done it a long time ago. It relates to how I’m a hip hop artist. I was signed to a label. Hip hop was born from the boomer generation. It was created in that era with Cindy Campbell, who was like one of the first promoters for her brother who was a DJ. But the reason the party was started was to buy school clothes. You don't have to stop the beat in order to keep the party going. And I tell you that story because it’s crucial, because once hip hop married capitalism, it started to become much more individualistic. You started to see less groups. It became more capitalism first, and creates an idea that’s all about profit.

We used to have hip hop moguls, Easy E back in the day, Jay Z and Dr. Dre, but those people making it did not eliminate the issues that Cindy Campbell was trying to address. So hip hop still hasn't addressed that issue, even with Nipsey Hussle who was trying to address that issue by bringing economic development into Crenshaw. We wanted to do Hip Hop Smoothie Shop to democratize economics. We’re doing what we should've done a long time ago. It’s a worker owned co-op, and we’re still seeing how to refine everything to see how the community can get maximum benefit.

One thing I’ve noticed when people speak about Skid Row or the unhoused generally is that they think about this work as charity. A few weeks back, Kayo, (who leads the music at the church), had to borrow a keyboard from someone in the area before worship and I caught a phrase you used. You said “When we say this is our hood, we really mean it.” How has being in the Skid Row community influenced you? 

We look at it as a community, right? A lot of things have changed about Skid Row because, collectively, grassroots community organizations have worked together to write our own narrative. We were some of the first to call it houselessness, not homelessness. LA CAN were some of the first people to point out that houselessness is a racial justice issue. 

We also look at the fact that there are 9000 housed people in Skid Row. So when you look at all of that, you realize that it is a community. There are those housed in the community, it’s not just a transient area. There are even people who live on the street who go to the church regularly. The incident you mentioned, that Kayo called a block away and someone had something to lend- I think that is evident that we’re not just giving but receiving from the community. And folks are always ready to give a helping hand. 

In light of that answer can you talk about what the idea of Sacred Resistance means for you?

You know I remember the genesis of Sacred Resistance. To me, Sacred Resistance is so many things. One, that the work that we’re doing is sacred work, sanctioned by God, our creator. It’s a different type of work than those before us. Not that we’re better, but a different expression of God’s work. But I think it’s not passive work, right? I think it’s engaging and resisting systems that do harm to others, and we’re empowered by God. So we don't need to lead with violence. We lead, we resist.

Sacred Resistance would be Mama Harriet Tubman, who resisted chattel slavery. Who not only resisted, but came back over and over to free people. On some of those journeys she’d talk about how God led her and helped her evade capture.

It reminds me of where they lay hands on Jesus, and he resisted, but he didn’t resist with attack. What he did was find ways to maneuver that system, and I think to me that’s what part of Sacred Resistance is- it’s opposing systems of harm, and dismantling them.

Are there any ways people can support this work going forward? 

People can always come and visit and see what it is we do before they support us. They can also partner with us and support financially, but some of our needs may be seasonal so it depends. They can always visit. 

About The Author

Naomi Welikala is a fellow of Jubilee Year for the 2022-2023 program year. She was born and raised in SoCal, and has a B.A. in Spanish and Sociology. In her free time, she likes cooking, going to thrift stores, and spending time with friends.