Civic Failure at the Nick: How Racism and Gatekeeping Undermined Columbia’s Candidate Forum with Johnson's and Bussells
- CUBNSC
- Sep 25
- 5 min read
Updated: Sep 30
By Javar Juarez | CUBNSC OP-ED | September 25, 2025
updated: September 29, 2025 1:16am
Last night, I walked into the Nickelodeon Theatre for what was supposed to be an exercise in democracy: the Columbia City Council Candidate Forum. What I walked out with instead was anger, frustration, and a renewed reminder of the barriers that still exist for Black and brown journalists, creatives, and community advocates in our city.
Columbia Candidate Forum: The Gatekeeping at the Door
I arrived at the Nick as a credentialed member of the South Carolina Press Association, pre-registered and prepared to cover the event for the Columbia Urban Broadcast Network (CUBNSC). Yet my press badge and registration meant nothing when I was met by members of the Columbia Chamber and the South Carolina Restaurant and Lodging Association.
From the moment I entered, I was berated about my camera equipment and told it would not be allowed in the theater. Despite the fact that this was a public forum for candidates seeking office, I was told that only the Post and Courier—one of the event sponsors—had exclusive rights to record or photograph inside.
The aggression escalated quickly. I was marched downstairs, confronted by multiple women with hostile demeanors, and told, in no uncertain terms, that my presence and professional capacity didn’t matter. “I don’t care who you are,” said Lenza Jolley, a representative for the South Carolina Restaurant and Lodging Association.
It was a moment that laid bare not just arrogance but a culture of exclusion. In Columbia, a city that prides itself on progress and diversity, here I was—a member of the press, a Black and Latino man—being aggressively denied equal access to cover candidates running for public office.
The situation didn’t play out as the women expected—their aggression couldn’t deter me. My persistence carried weight, and ultimately it was reinforced by the intervention of two men who stepped in to help resolve matters: Bernie Heller, Columbia Publisher, and Carl Blackstone, Columbia Chamber Director.
A Forum That Fell Flat
Even after tensions cooled slightly when the Post and Courier’s publisher and a Chamber director intervened, the damage was done. The message was clear: access in Columbia is not equal. It is gatekept, guarded, and rationed out depending on who you are and who you represent.
Inside the forum, the issues on stage mirrored the hypocrisy at the door. Dr. Aditi Bussells touted her record but did so with language that felt rehearsed and disingenuous. Her remarks on homelessness, for instance, blurred lines between affordability, mental health, and addiction—an approach that candidate Jared Lee Johnson rightly challenged by insisting that homelessness is primarily an affordability issue, not simply a matter of personal pathology.
Sam Johnson, with his years of City Hall experience, struggled to deliver a coherent vision for sustainable development despite his deep connections to municipal consulting.
By contrast, Jared Lee Johnson stood out with authenticity, grounding his campaign in the lived struggles of working-class people, creatives, and those being displaced by rising rents and gentrification. He spoke of solutions like a Housing Endowment and a city kitchen—ideas rooted not in political theater, but in survival and dignity.
In the midst of everything else, the technical failures at the Nick only made matters worse. This is now the second time I have attended an event there where the theatre simply could not handle the basics. Microphones cut in and out, the sound was inconsistent, speakers crackled with pops and feedback—it was chaos.
The first time was during the feature of Dr. Jermaine Johnson’s “I Got Myself a Yard.” The film stalled midway, forcing an unplanned intermission. I stepped in to give a talk on voting and youth engagement to fill the silence while staff scrambled to fix the issue.
At this point, I cannot imagine recommending the Nick Theatre for any serious public forum, film screening, or civic gathering. In a city filled with churches, and community venues—many of which are fully equipped and well-practiced in hosting large events—there is simply no excuse for the Nick’s repeated failures to provide even the most basic technical support.
A Cold Heart for a Baby
The most painful moment of the night came when community organizer and certified doula Gentarra Williams took her seat midway through the theatre. She sat in the handicapped accessible section to accommodate her stroller, where inside was a beautiful, happy baby boy. He was cooing, blowing raspberries, and making the kind of joyful noises that only a loved and cared-for child can make.
But just behind them sat a figure whose demeanor reflected stern disapproval. This individual, described as a white woman, appeared to take issue with the sound of an innocent Black child. According to accounts, she allegedly muttered loud enough for Williams to hear:
“That nigga baby has to go.”
Williams, shaken and in tears, wheeled her stroller out into the wings of the theatre, where she told me what had just happened. I left my post behind to walk her downstairs, offering comfort in the concession area as she tried to process the viciousness of those words.
Police officers on duty, Post and Courier Publisher Bernie Heller, and even concession staff were visibly shocked and disturbed when they learned what had occurred. Their empathy, however genuine, could not undo the harm.
For me, that moment marked the breaking point. Rage surged through me like fire in my veins, as though my ancestors themselves were demanding a response. I clasped Ms. Clowney’s hands to my chest so she could feel the violent pounding of my heart, the vibrations of fury threatening to escape my body.
I had no choice but to step outside. The afternoon air gave me the breath I needed, but my spirit was rocked to its core. It has taken the entire evening to even begin to process the cruelty I witnessed.
A Known History of Racism at the Nick
Perhaps the most disturbing revelation of the night came after I left the Nick. At a nearby open house, I encountered a former employee who confirmed what many in Columbia’s arts and cultural community already know: the Nickelodeon Theatre has a long history of mistreating employees of color and perpetuating a culture of racism.
This was no isolated incident. It is part of a broader pattern—a coldness, a dismissiveness, and a systemic bias that has been allowed to thrive under the guise of arts and civic engagement in downtown Columbia.
Why This Matters
For nearly two decades, I have worked to bring talent, creativity, and investment across Columbia. I have fought for Columbia to be a place where Black businesses, Black artists, and Black media are not only present but celebrated. To walk into a candidate forum—an event that should symbolize democracy at work—and instead face hostility, exclusion, and racism is unacceptable.
It is also disqualifying. I will not support institutions or candidates that tolerate or perpetuate this behavior. For me, that includes the Nickelodeon Theatre and Councilwoman Aditi Bussells, whose record and remarks fail to reflect the urgency of Columbia’s housing and equity crises.
Columbia Deserves Better
Columbia cannot claim to be a “forward city” while still allowing spaces of civic engagement to become fortresses of exclusion. We cannot allow the whitewashing of our culture, our history, or our politics. And we certainly cannot accept racism, micro-aggressions, and gatekeeping as the cost of participation.
The forum was supposed to be about hearing candidates and shaping conversation. Instead, it became a mirror of the deeper inequities we face. Columbia deserves better—and we must demand it.