I am one of a handful of privileged Park Slope adults. I have seen the inside of Club Loco. For those who do not know, Club Loco is a monthly teen “nightclub,” an evening of bands and a place to hang out with friends inside the Old First Church on Seventh Avenue. What’s unique is the strict “no-parents, no-teachers” policy. The only grownups allowed inside are the hired security guard and the chaperones, who are all in their 20s (which is sort of like an adult, I guess).
So why was I allowed inside this teenage sanctuary? Well, it’s because I am also in my 20s (just kidding). Actually, Club Loco is now celebrating its one-year anniversary and the leaders of the organization are looking for new ideas and some fresh leadership, so it seemed like a little publicity would be a good idea.
Walking in, I was thrown right back to my own high school dance days. It was dark and there was the band playing inside. There was that atmosphere of excitement and potential for the evening ahead. I felt painfully out of place (just like I did back then, truth be told).
But once inside, it did feel different from my high school dances. Everyone inside the place was practically a newborn — or so it seemed to me. Even if I could throw myself back into the old teenage mindset, my high school dances were heavy with an adult presence — mostly teachers getting overtime for this thankless task.
I stuck out like an SUV at an NRDC meeeting. I couldn’t wait to leave.
“That’s how you are supposed to feel,” I was told by Henry C., a 16-year-old Park Slope musician who helped found Club Loco, and who happened to be performing that night. The fact that the venue is restricted to teens seems to be a successful part of Club Loco’s presence in the neighborhood.
Otherwise, though, the Club Loco experience seems to be a mixed bag for local teens. And, not surprisingly, the reasons some teens have conflicted feelings about it are probably the very same things that many parents like about Club Loco.
“I’ve always had a really good time there,” said Grace G., a 15-year-old. “Everyone goes there to see friends, but sometimes they go overboard with searching people.” She met a big group of people there she now counts among her friends.
“I’ve gotten yelled at for holding hands with my girlfriend,” Jack S., 17, told me, and he says that dancing tends to be discouraged in case it gets out of control.
But teens who are musicians, like Jack S., also appreciate the fact that Club Loco is another place where they can perform and go to listen to music.
“It’s really good for a band that is just starting out,” he says. On the other hand, he is strongly opposed to censorship and he feels that it is the job of a “metal” band to include talk about blood and the devil in their lyrics.
“It’s still primarily a church, and they’re very clear about that,” he says.
It probably comes as no surprise that the adult in charge doesn’t see it that way.
“It is housed in the church, but otherwise it has nothing to do with the church,” says Lois Wingerson, Club Loco’s current leader. It was her daughter who had the idea for the club. Now in college, Wingerson’s daughter spent her teen years in the Slope trying to convince her mother that going to one of the teen hangouts in the city was perfectly safe.
Wingerson’s research revealed otherwise. These teen “clubs” were typically poorly monitored and the entrants poorly screened.
One day, inside the large space behind the sanctuary at Old First, her daughter said, “You know, with the right lighting and some comfortable places to sit, this could make a fabulous space for a club.”
The Park Slope Civic Council awarded Club Loco a seed grant. The funds allowed for the purchase of some furniture, including some giant throw pillows to sit on, and lighting and decorations to transform the space.
So what is in the future for Club Loco? The fact is that most teens really prefer to hang out at their friend’s homes, or just to “wander the streets for hours,” as more than one teen told me. But most seemed to feel that it is good to have a place to go and listen to music with their peers, and it is valued by most of them for that reason.
It’s the age-old dilemma. No matter how innovative and no matter how hard adults try, teenagers are people who crave freedom and respect from adults. And adults are people who trypically choose worry over trust.
Wendy Ponte is a freelancer writer who lives in Park Slope.
