On alternative families, the healing power of music and keeping the faith

Communities that hold me

Becca on the left….and another AofA member, Debbie Golt in the middle and Kaya M on the right…the Vinyl Sisters at the Ritzy Upstairs in Brixton

‘Stress and overwhelm interspersed with moments of wonder’. This is how I described my life last March, in a co-listening session that came through AofA. We were taking our first steps out of a dreige winter. It had been a busy one. Lots of winter introspection leading to an epiphanic decision about my future, the rekindling of an old relationship, launching new creative writing courses, coping with gallstone attacks, a miserable lodger, more DJing and a new business idea. I was scattered and overwhelmed, living what I call ‘life on a line’ – on one’s own, just keeping on and on ’til you drop.

There were new things starting, things that needed to change, and just too many things to do.

Ukadelix

Two memories stood out. The first was from just before Christmas, blowing in out of a snowstorm to a friendly Brockley pub with a wicked music vibe and the amazing Ukadelix band playing up a storm. There was a whole audience of dancing, engaged punters – friends, familiar faces and a nice young woman who chatted to me about the band as I shook off the snow and got my first drink.

The second was from March, at Vinyl Sisters, a reggae night in Brixton where womxn DJs rule the decks. There was mellow music, a loving vibe and a warm welcome from what seemed like everyone I had ever met over the past two years, scattered through different venues on the London reggae music scene. Lady Bigz and Pandiva were playing roots, soca and calypso, while Annemarie, who I hadn’t met before, played an especially sublime selection which we had a great conversation after, discovering many things in common. There was Debbie, co-founder of the night, like a big sister who first welcomed me into this world, and her daughter who made me laugh when I told her about my boring Ancestry results, joking that I had too much rhythm for them. There was the gang from Brixton Downbeat sound system – young Ruddy, George and DeeDee; there were elders asking when I would play next, there was Miss Feelgood and Deptford Dub Club regulars Mark and Mikey. There was Ranjan from Advantages of Age and youngers from other sound systems. There was reggae royalty like Doc and Antonella, Princess Laura and the singer Deemas J. There was Nana, selector Sweetie and a trendy young couple from Deptford, ‘only just out of hibernation’. Like a Brixton fairytale, it was a glittering crowd of precious people, a family of music lovers, and one I suddenly realised I belong to.

Richard Carlile, a journalist ancestor…

Having no conventional family - history and space hold special significance for me, too. My rekindled squeeze is a writer, like me interested in the past. I used to imagine my ancestors meeting his fictional characters – and ponder on how us two have collided in the present day. I think a lot about my local area – my forebears who lived in Deptford, Brockley, Telegraph Hill and even Forest Hill where I am now. I believe my affinity with here must bear some relationship to these roots. I also think about modern history: anti-racism marches, reggae and sound systems – the world I have found myself in. I consider how both my parents loved classical music and realise I’ve inherited the musical gene, albeit falling for a different genre in line with my own life and times. In terms of reggae, I marvel at how it brings a huge diversity of people together, bonds us, performs a magical sleight of hand on so many levels.

The Vinyl Sisters crowd isn’t my only music family. There’s the Deptford Dub Club crew: Kathy and Don, Nick and Debbie, Anne and Chris, Soren, Una, Soft Wax and others. There’s the Heritage Vinyl DJs, especially Tim and Lloyd who guest at my own residency in Honor Oak. There are untold reminiscences with Chris and Yasmin at Sugahill café. There’s the Reggae Cookout in Finsbury Park, again with familiar faces, people who move between the above venues – a cosy cross stepping of loose connections and mutual interests.

There’s also the Soul Roots Radio family – fellow DJs on our community radio station for a global audience. Last summer I was in Valencia and discovered I was staying literally around the corner from a club night run by SRR’s Three Musketeers. The club was in session even as I looked them up on Instagram and five minutes later, I was there, introducing myself and getting linked to more people.

Maggie and Percy, Becca’s maternal grandparents

I guess, even though not usually in terms of individual friendships, the community holds me – and for someone so alone in terms of blood family, this feels significant. When I stop to think about it, it’s steadying. And it’s strengthening to be part of a movement, a network of likeminded people. It grants independence and brings opportunities – not just for myself – there are opportunities to support others, too. Much like a blood family, the reggae family gives me a home to grow from and to give back to.

In a time of unbearable division in society, polarisation and hatred, it’s important to tell this story of positivity and love. There is a purity in all music that anyone can respond to, and wrapped within reggae’s beautiful harmonies and rhythms are messages of unity, truth and rights. There’s the concept of ‘revolutionary love’ – love not just in the romantic sense but as a political choice. I’m currently seeking opportunities to bring music to new, unconverted audiences – ones who might benefit from its healing magic in the testing days ahead.

With Kenyatta Hill when Culture played the Fox and Firkin in 2025

Personally speaking, the road ahead is clearer, too. Ending this piece almost a year after its inception, I’m going forward in a spirit of trust. There has been much moving feedback from my creative writing students, and to some of my articles. I can see how happy people are when I DJ. With a major two-year project out of the way, work feels more manageable and there’s space for new things – I’m learning that everything has its time. Moreover, the miserable lodger’s gone, the relationship’s hanging in and the gallstone attacks have stopped.

Becca is a reggae DJ/Journalist and Creative Writing Tutor.

Listen to her radio shows at https://www.mixcloud.com/SoulRootsRadio/playlists/world-a-reggae/

Find out about her courses and writing at beccaleathlean.co.uk

Find out about her DJing on Instagram: @selectorbecca