How Zeek Williams and New Era Detroit used grassroot methods to rethink community safety

I t’s a Friday night and a half-dozen volunteers and employees from New Era Detroit are gathered inside their headquarters on Schoolcraft Road in the Brightmoor neighborhood. They’re armed, dressed in black boots, black cargo pants, and black varsity jackets with the phrase “Our Community Our Responsibility” stitched on the back. The facility is equipped with the essentials you would expect for a nonprofit organization: a banquet table, podium, wooden bench, and a dry-erase board. A large TV framed inside a wall shows various video clips of New Era Detroit’s organized protests and community engagement events.

The vibe is mundane. Half the group is engaged in conversation while the other half is preparing to head out on a “Streets is Watching” patrol, a daily program that places visible volunteers driving the streets to deter violence against women and children in high-crime areas during critical times of the day.

New Era Detroit is a nonprofit organization with the goals of averting violent crimes and increasing overall wellness in Detroit. It launched the Streets is Watching program in 2016 in the neighborhood surrounding Noble Elementary-Middle School. “There was a lot going on in that area at the time,” says New Era Detroit founder and president Isaiah “Zeek” Williams. “We would go to that school in the morning time to make sure the kids were safe walking to school and at night we would do patrols in the neighborhood.”

Williams takes a seat in his office located in a separate room of the facility. Painted portraits of Fred Hampton, Marcus Garvey, Huey Newton, and Nipsey Hussle hang from the walls, while awards and plaques sit on an upper shelf near the ceiling. Last fall, New Era received a $700,000 federally funded grant via the city of Detroit’s Community Violence Intervention (CVI) program to help establish a non-government way to reduce shootings in the city. The grant helped Williams secure a permanent home for New Era for the first time in its 10 year-history.

“People don’t normally back and support this kind of work,” Williams says. “It’s not the popular thing to do. It’s only been the last couple of years we’ve been getting more donors, but that’s just recent. Before then we was just getting it how we live.”

Williams, 39, has a mountainous presence. Standing over 6’5”, he looks like he could give the struggling Pistons a double-double on any given night. He grew up on the west side of Detroit and describes himself as mature for his age and a people person. One of the main attributes that has stuck with him is that he hates bullies. He always made it a point to bully the bullies, he says.

“Even in high school I got along with everybody,” he says. “I took up for the people who were maybe getting picked on or bullied. I’ve always been vocal in that aspect.”

After high school Willmans attended Eastern Michigan University for a short time, moved to Atlanta briefly, worked at Jenkins Construction, and refurbished houses. He didn’t want to settle for a factory job and exchange “time for money,” as he calls it. He leaned into ways he could earn a living without being too stationary, but as the years went by he grew malcontent with his life.

“It all got old quick!” he says. “You start looking around and wondering what your purpose is. I feel like we all have a purpose moment.”

Williams’s came when 18-year-old Michael Brown was shot and killed by police officer Darren Wilson on Aug. 9, 2014 in Ferguson, Missouri. His killing was one of several cases of police brutality against Black people that garnered national interest.

“All these young Black kings were getting killed at that time,” Williams says. “The perfect storm of reality and a wake up call for me.”

But it wasn’t just police brutality that triggered Williams. It was also the violence in his own community that forced him to take an about-face.

“I’ll never forget when I first started there was a serial rapist,” he adds. “I was somewhere looking at the news, and like damn, it’s somebody out here raping women. I remember looking to the left and right of me and niggas could have cared less. So now I’m thinking about my role as a Black man in this situation.”

In 2014 Detroit saw its violent crime statistics take a dip with a 15.48% decrease from 2013 . However, Detroit still ranked No. 6 in violent crime totals for cities with 100,00 or more people. The Detroit Police Department also had 614 “use of force” complaints from civilians between 2016-2021 , with 3% that ruled in favor of the civilians.

Both elements represented a culture that Williams wanted to counter. He reached out to family and friends with his vision of what he wanted New Era Detroit to be. He began hosting meetings and studying Black movements and leaders from yesteryear such as Malcom X, the Black Panthers, and Marcus Garvey. He wasn’t looking to recreate a movement but to educate himself and look for ways to establish what an activist strategy needed to be in today’s climate.

“We had to redefine how we look at organizations in Black communities,” Williams says. “Most people look at doing stuff for our community in an event mindset like backpacks [for students], turkeys for Thanksgiving. It’s good to have a heart about wanting to do something, but when you talk about growing and elevating the community and growing and elevating the culture, it has to be more than an event. It has to be a lifestyle.”

In March of 2015, New Era started its first program, called “Hood 2 Hood.” Volunteers went door-to-door introducing themselves and passing out flyers with information about the organization. The grassroots-style initiative was not only an introduction to the group but it helped recruit fellow residents who wanted to make a difference, and also built a new unity within neighborhoods. Williams started bringing U-Haul trucks with a DJ playing music inside while volunteers passed out toys. The goal was simply to get residents outside and talking to each other. By the end of the summer New Era had covered 18 neighborhoods, and it’s a program that continues till this day.

“It really has a positive effect on the environment because now I know this person, I know that person, I’m outside in my hood and it feels good to do that,” Williams boasts.

Williams’s concern about the distance and silence between neighbors is valid. According to the U.S. Census Bureau , Detroit’s population dropped from 679,562 in 2015 to 620,376 in 2022. If you add that to the 200 school closures that have occurred since 2000, along with constant home foreclosures and rising eviction rates , you end up with high-turnover neighborhoods where no one takes the time to build connections with their neighbors. And because of blight removal, you have streets that have empty lots between homes.

“There used to be a time where you knew your neighbors by their family name,” Williams adds. “The Johnsons, the Williams. It’s not like that anymore.”

N ew Era’s first organized protest came on November 20, 2015 after an attendant at a Mobil gas station on Eight Mile near Southfield brandished a gun toward four minors.

“The parents came in crying, their son went into this gas station, bought some chips, and the attendant thought he stole some chips, and put a gun to the kid,” Williams says. “The parents went to the police and they didn’t give them no motion, they went to the press and they didn’t give them no motion, so they stopped in one of our meetings.”

Several volunteers and members of New Era Detroit stormed the gas station, blocking off the entrances and yelling chants demanding respect and accountability. The scene caused the Detroit police officers and the owners of the gas station to show up. The attendant claimed the gun was just a toy, and the ordeal concluded with the parents getting a public apology from the owners and a promise to terminate the attendant.

“The person that did it, I think he got arrested,” Williams says. “[The parents] got what they wanted at that time. It was really raw and we stood on our ground.”

But that initial protest was a spark that ignited several more against crime and discrimination. Williams even took New Era’s cause to Dearborn in efforts to seek justice for the deaths of Kevin Matthews and Janet Wilson , who were both killed by police in separate incidents weeks apart (Matthews on December 23, 2015 and Wilson on January 27, 2016). New Era staged a public protest at Fairlane Mall (where Wilson was killed), besieged a Dearborn city council meeting, and even conducted a surprise protest on Christmas Day around the Dearborn police station. In both cases the Wayne County Prosecutor’s office said the officers acted in self-defense, and the city of Dearborn agreed to pay the families of both victims $1.25 million dollars in separate civil suits. Although Williams hoped for at least a dismissal of the officers, he still sees the attention brought to the Dearborn police department as a win.

“We put national eyes on the Dearborn police department,” Williams adds. “And it was a win just to be a disruptor. We had 200 niggas on Christmas day all up and down Dearborn. They see a bunch of niggas walking up the street with their fist up. Now their community has a problem with them and wants to know what’s going on.”

New Era Detroit also used their protest muscle to combat predatory towing. In October of 2022, Williams and rapper Trick Trick videotaped and confronted a Goch and Sons tow truck driver preparing to illegally tow a woman’s car within the 15-minute grace period at Medical Court Apartments. Williams accused Goch and Sons of using a spotter to immediately send drivers to tow cars minutes after they parked. This prompted City Council President Mary Sheffield to reevaluate a pending $187,500 City towing contract with Goch and Sons. The contract never came to fruition.

“Just so happened the stars aligned and they were up for this big dumbass city contract,” Williams says, frustrated. “They were just hoeing our people.”

In a separate interview, Trick Trick adds, “Never met another person who cares as much as me. I can take a breath because I have help. I can help this movement hands-on and financially.”

Detroit City Council did not respond to messages regarding their decision not to renew the towing contract with Goch and Sons. Goch and Sons still has a contract with the State of Michigan, despite receiving numerous complaints to the Consumer Protection Division.

“They’re still out here doing hoe shit, but we snatched that from them,” Williams says.

N ew Era’s road to carving out their own niche in activism has come with its share of challenges. Many of the enlistees who were in those early meetings and protests have since voluntarily left. Sometimes it’s other obligations, and other times the weight of the work starts to take its toll. Either way, the turnover of volunteers has been something that Williams has had to get adjusted to.

“It’s people that will give me their best of whatever they got; their best day, best month, best year,” Williams says with a shrug. “I used to take it personal at the beginning.”

Another obstacle has been garnering more support from the City of Detroit’s influencers: hip-hop artists, athletes, and other trendsetters. Williams believes that more progress can be made with support for New Era came from Detroit’s most notable personalities.

“There are people that have people’s ears,” he says.

But the biggest hindrance during the New Era’s ascension, Williams says, was the police. Particularly in the early years, New Era faced constant pushback from the Detroit Police Department. According to Williams, his nightly patrol volunteers were unnecessarily pulled over, heated disputes between him and police officers were common, and he and his members have been arrested on at least a dozen occasions.

“It was so much back and forth with the police,” Williams says. “It was literally DPD vs. NED that entire year. It was just almost always smoke.”

Williams admits he was more of a hothead back then, more likely to escalate disputes rather than quietly resolve them. But Williams says he wanted New Era to be taken seriously, and he was trying to establish his cause.

“We had to fight and stand on our ground,” Williams adamantly says. “Police want police glory. They don’t want a group of people out here getting praised by the community doing community patrols and what they consider police work.”

“It’s definitely nothing but love and respect,” adds New Era member Travis Stafford in a separate interview. “People trust us, people tell us what’s really going on in the streets. And they trust us to be able to help solve the problems in the community.”

By 2017, New Era’s presence had become more defined and confrontations with police occurred much less frequently. Williams felt he had earned his respect, and New Era and DPD have been able to coexist in peace ever since.

“I have a good understanding with [DPD] Chief White,” Williams adds. “We have a good understanding that we ‘do us’ and they ‘do them.’ But it took a lot. They tried to demonize us in the community.”

“We have a good working relationship,” says Sgt. Jordan Hall from DPD media relations in a separate interview. “There are no issues that we have with New Era.”

T he city of Detroit ended 2023 with 252 homicides , the fewest recorded in 57 years. Carjackings and non-fatal shootings were also down significantly. Williams knows DPD and other agencies are taking credit for the reduction, but he believes New Era’s efforts also directly played a role in the contraction of those numbers as well.

“We not the police,” adds Williams. “If y’all in there mistreating kids, y’all fucking with women, fucking with elders, if y’all being a detriment to the block, to the Black community, then we have a problem.”

Williams says the biggest misconception is that New Era is “just for security.” But they offer multiple other programs including a Buy Black Tour, Political Education courses for youth and adults, self-defense classes, and Tangie’s Ride, a program that distributes groceries and hot meals to those in need. There are youth workshops, financial literacy classes, and a handful of other programs Williams started simply from listening to the citizens.

“Another thing people do wrong is they don’t listen to the people,” he says. “They think they got all the answers. Like how you want to work for Black people and you don’t talk to a soul. You don’t know what these people want, forreal.”

The most noteworthy project New Era has coming is the Blkem, an app that will allow residents to request help if in danger, report shootings, and other kinds of violent situations. The app is for citizens residing within a four-mile radius where New Era is concentrating its CVI work.

“It’s still in beta,” Williams adds. “It will be in beta testing for a year. We gotta be innovative in the approach and in the way we do things.”

In a separate interview, Detroit’s deputy mayor Todd Bettison expresses support for New Era.

“It’s critical, it’s community violence intervention,” Bettison says. “New Era and other organizations like them have been doing it for years. I’ve personally witnessed them over the years on a shoestring budget doing things to get the community engaged and also change hearts and minds and work with people to get them to not engage violence.”

Even though New Era has expanded its reach across the country by opening 14 different chapters (including one in Nigeria), Detroit is still where the heart is. Williams wants to see Detroit become a world-class city for its residents and the impact New Era has made so far is minor compared to where he sees Detroit in the future.

“It’s a real thing for us, I can see it,” Williams says. “I can see the fruits of our labor. We’re about to turn the city up in the next decade. People are going to look at the city of Detroit as the structured way of living for Black excellence and Black communities worldwide. That’s our goal.”

More information about New Era Detroit is available at neweraworld.work .