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By Unity Powell
It’s Saturday morning amidst the cozy, bustling atmosphere of UnBar Cafe, a coffee shop in the Larchmere community on Cleveland’s east side. Adam Banks, PhD is throwing out Black music references, folded into his conversation.
Over the hum of espresso machines, blenders, and the door opening you hear topics that range from Black vernacular to digital literacy. For two hours, the space transforms into an intellectual haven or a third space, where discussions flourish and community thrives.
Banks, a professor of Education and African American Studies and faculty director at Stanford University has been offering community classes in tandem the courses he creates and teaches at the university. His classes are free and open to the public.
If you ask around, many people have known Banks peripherally, and describe him as unassuming. You can find him sitting in the back of UnBar with his computer out and focused. He’d look up, smile and speak, but once you get to know him, or see him in his element, he transforms.
Some patrons have likened him to a modern-day griot, a gifted and wise storyteller and keeper of culture. Sandra Bishop, a minister and yoga teacher has known Banks for 20 years and is honored to see him evolve, “To see him in his element, pulling everyone into the conversation, navigating topics with ease—it’s amazing,” she says.
Banks’ Stanford profile mentions how he’s a crate digger and regarding his persona, “is a slow jam in a hip-hop world”. He’s like a DJ, skillfully keeping the morale of the party while introducing new voices, and giving the legends their flowers.
“You get to do whatever the hell you want to do—as long as you come back on the one.” Banks grins, referencing his metaphor of funk music as a guiding philosophy for his work. What began as a simple idea to bridge academia and the community has blossomed into an essential ecosystem, bolstering a local Black-owned business and creating a unique third space where intellectual discourse meets economic support.
For Banks, who grew up on Cleveland’s East Side and is a first-generation college graduate, this journey is about more than teaching. It’s about transforming the gap he calls the “town-gown divide”—the separation between higher education and the communities it often leaves behind. “I wanted to bring what we were doing on campus directly to people here. Education shouldn’t just be for those who step foot on a campus,” he reflects.
From the outset, Banks saw this project as a way to invest in Cleveland’s Black community, not just intellectually but economically. “I wanted to be in a space that was ours and spend money with our folks,” he explains. The impact has been palpable. UnBar’s owner, Melissa, describes the shift: “These classes have been like a lifeline for the business, creating a cycle of support. There’s an energy here that goes beyond Saturday mornings. People come for class but they stay for community.”
Lady D, host of the podcast, “What’s Going On With Lady D” realized that “she found her new home” when she recounts a story of her first visit to UnBar where a friend invited her to Banks’ class, which starts at 1 p.m. on Saturday. She laughs discussing her daughter calling her throughout the day, shocked she was still there. “I did not leave UnBar until after 10 p.m.”
Banks’ philosophy for these classes is rooted in his own journey. Picture it, Banks as a toddler, leaving his home, crossing in the parking lot and ending up in the administration office of John Hay, the high school he would later attend, telling them he wanted to enroll in school. He laughs recalling this story his mom tells.
Banks excelled academically, buoyed by his parents’ pride, the encouragement he received from his community, and his own intellectual curiosity. His teaching is informed by an understanding of what it means to persevere and a commitment to offering others the opportunity to do the same.
He taught at Syracuse University, and University of Kentucky where he worked to create opportunities for connection outside traditional classroom settings. Whether hosting events, facilitating workshops, or creating spaces for dialogue, he wanted to ensure that education extended beyond the campus. Each session at UnBar is crafted to blend Black intellectual traditions with modern discourse, weaving in themes of technology, liberation, and community history. He has taught the following courses at UnBar: Rhetoric and Black Digital Cultures: From BlackPlanet to AI; Star Trek Deep Space Nine and Afrofuturism; Parable of the Sower Reading Group; and Language and Literacy for Liberation.
“Our language, our culture, and our tech—all these intersect in ways that speak to who we are and who we wanna be,” he explains. By connecting past traditions with contemporary media, Banks not only makes historical narratives relevant but also empowers participants to see their own creativity as a form of agency.
“It’s Black up in here and that’s why we like it,” a patron says while walking out after class.
The space he’s cultivating goes beyond the physical walls of UnBar. Each week, the group, comprised of community members, business owners, educators, and creatives, gather to connect, collaborate, and learn. Their shared experiences form a web of mutual support, where participants leave class with more than new knowledge. They walk away with new friends, business contacts, and a reinvigorated commitment to each other. Banks reflected, “When we support each other, we grow together.”
His classes have ignited a community-driven ecosystem that strengthens the social and intellectual fabric of Cleveland’s Black community. Perhaps one of the most remarkable effects of these classes is their role in normalizing intellectualism within everyday community spaces.
Participants, some in their 20s and others in their 70s, (even some youngins join us 4-17), find themselves expanding their perspectives. “It’s about creating a space where people can learn, talk, and feel welcome without having to prove anything,” Banks said.
It’s this embrace of the everyday intellect that has encouraged a diverse crowd to not only attend but to stay. Patrons echo sentiments of being able to have discussions on multiple levels even if you aren’t familiar with the course topic.
His commitment to creating a space that honors Black history, culture, and intellectual discourse has also deepened his own connection to Cleveland. Through the group, he’s reimagined his role as both an educator and a community member.
“I think I’m a better writer and speaker because of us,” he notes. “When you’re part of a real community, your words come to life in a way that’s hard to achieve alone.” His goal is for these classes to inspire similar “third spaces” in other parts of the city. This initiative, as Banks describes it, is a “funk space” where everyone brings their own rhythm but finds harmony in a shared beat.
The classes are free and open to the public. Banks generosity and commitment to a welcoming space extends beyond the conversations. Attendees are provided free books and tasty treats, letting knowledge and nourishment go hand and hand.
As the session winds down, participants linger, chatting and laughing. They exchange ideas, phone numbers, and plans for future collaborations and music recommendations. In a country where the Black community’s stories and contributions are often overlooked, Banks’ work is a reminder of the power of collective learning and cultural affirmation. Through his classes, he has built a thriving ecosystem of intellect, community, and economic support.
“We need to replicate this as much as possible,” said Alan Turner, a high school language teacher. As the doors of UnBar close on another Saturday morning, Banks’ impact continues to resonate. Just like your favorite DJ, he’s found a way to blend the conversation for everyone, introduce you to some new ideas, keep you on the flo’ (engaged) and create a lasting experience. In this third space he has cultivated, community is finding not only its voice but also its rhythm, one conversation at a time.