When she was a student at Brooklyn College, Shelley Worrell ’00 wondered why there was no Little Caribbean in New York City. At the time, there were already official city designations for all sorts of ethnic enclaves like Chinatown, Little Italy, Koreatown, and more. Why not for the well-established Caribbean community of Flatbush?

She understood that their experiences had their own distinct nuances, separate from other immigrant groups and from that of African Americans. She knew an oil down from griot from fish tea and which restaurants lining Church, Flatbush, Nostrand, Rogers, and Utica avenues served the best bites. She was versed in West Indian Carnivale culture, could distinguish a Trinidadian accent from a Bajan one, and was always clear about the value in the collective identity of the people, shops, and restaurants that made up her neighborhood in Brooklyn.

“So why wasn’t there a Little Caribbean?” she asked herself.

Worrell, a child of Trinidadian immigrants, double majored in Caribbean studies and anthropology.

After college, she spent about a decade exploring a variety of professional roles in hospitality, media, and the tech sector before shifting to produce a number of film festivals and community events that would evolve into I AM CARIBBEING.

Today, CARIBBEING supports local businesses and raises awareness of Flatbush’s Caribbean culture through events, tours, public programs, and partnerships with public and private organizations. Last year, she opened her own brick-and-mortar that sells sweatshirts, rum cakes, pepper sauces, aprons, souvenirs, and memorabilia.

But perhaps the accomplishment she’s deservedly best known for is spearheading the push for the official designation of Little Caribbean in Flatbush, the largest and most diverse Caribbean population outside the West Indies.

The neighborhood is now trending from a string of recent accolades, including the 2024 Excellence in Historic Preservation Award by the Preservation League of New York State, and Timeout magazine’s designation as 2024’s “coolest neighborhood in NYC.”

Here, Worrell talks about how she founded the organization that was but a glimmer in her eye during her time on campus, how Brooklyn College alumni helped her along the way, and the important work of nurturing community.

Shelley Worrell ’00 in Little Carribbean, a neighborhood designation that resulted from her advocacy.

You grew up quintessentially West Indian American, and you’ve managed to parlay that—plus all your experiences, academic and professional—into a real cultural commodity.

I grew up between Flatbush, East Flatbush, and even a bit in Kensington. I started going to Trinidad when I was six months old, just like many children of first-generation Caribbean immigrants. That, in addition to growing up in a Caribbean household in Brooklyn, informed who I am as well as the work that I do today.

I spent all of my early childhood summers in the Caribbean. We would effectively get out of school and then I just remember being in Trinidad with all my extended family. Days were filled with outdoor play, a lot of beach parties, bathing in the rain. And then straight back into the classroom at the end of the summer.

I also have vivid memories of walking to school and just being in the Brooklyn community. I grew up seeing and hearing and speaking with other children like myself and families like ours. The first school that I went to was a Haitian bilingual school. My family talks about me coming home speaking in Creole and singing in French.

Was that strong sense of identity why you chose Caribbean studies and anthropology for your majors? 

Actually, after I got admitted to Brooklyn College, I went to Trinidad for a bit. I still had some paperwork to get in order, so my father enrolled me in all my courses and that’s how I ended up in Caribbean studies and anthropology. I didn’t have a clear path at that time.

But you stuck with those majors.

I did because it was a way for me to further explore my identity in a more academic way. And I had amazing professors and opportunities. It gave me the opportunity to be on the ground in the neighborhood that’s always been home. I lived off Church Avenue, so I could walk or take the train a few stops, and I was just really immersed in the culture and the community.

How did all of that evolve into CARIBBEING?

I thought about CARIBBEING when I was at Brooklyn College, but I didn’t know what it would be. Years later, one of my former classmates was working in cultural programming at the library in Flatbush. She came to me and said, ‘Hey, Shelley, remember when you had this idea about doing CARIBBEING?’

I had been thinking a lot about the lack of representation in storytelling. So, I ended up doing our first film festival at the Flatbush library. It was sort of the pilot. It was horrible. No one came. It was weird and not what I wanted to do.

Around that time, I would run into [former New York State Assemblywoman] Rhoda Jacobs ’62 a lot during my walks. Starbucks had just opened on Hillel Plaza, and we just always had the same timing. She had been following me and my work, and she ended up helping facilitate us doing our first pivotal public program film screening at Brooklyn College in Whitman Theater. One of my old professors, Regine Latortue, was the moderator.

And from there, we just continued to grow and evolve. Jumaane Williams, ’01, M.A. ’05, [the current New York City Public Advocate] also helped out with some of our film programming, and that one was also a hit. I said, wait, maybe there is more viability to this. Let me see where this is going.

How did you describe what CARIBBEING was then?

Our mission was building community through film, art, and culture. Now we say we work at the intersection of culture, community, commerce, and sustainability. We became multidisciplinary. We’ve added art, food, and cultural programming. We were tapped to do one of the largest public programs for a triannual exhibition that was a partnership between Queens Museum, Studio Museum, and El Barrio.

When did you decide to push for the Little Caribbean designation from the city?

I had been spending a lot more time on the ground in the neighborhood. And that’s when the idea for a Little Caribbean came to be. I was asking myself very existential questions, in large part because I had the privilege of having gone to Brooklyn College and studying anthropology and Caribbean studies, of having been to dozens of islands by then and more than 70 countries. My graduate studies in hospitality and tourism and my time in the media made me think about storytelling and representation. And in all that time, no one could answer me one question: Why was there no Little Caribbean? I was determined to push it through.

And you did, in 2017. What has the designation meant for the community?

Now we get to tap some city and state funding. [We receive] media accolades, we have a tour with National Geographic. Cornell University and Pratt Institute have taught classes on Little Caribbean. There have been a lot of benefits for all of us who’ve lived here and made this our home for many generations.

What’s next for you and for CARIBBEING?

Just continuing to grow and scale and to listen to the community and respond to its needs.