In New York City, there’s a growing movement when it comes to places to gather. There is an obvious need for community, support and belonging, which organizations like Mastermind Connect is trying to fulfill. Jeff Lindor, from The Gentlemen’s Factory, explains why this matters in a recent article featured in The New York Times.

From left, Tim Jack, Prince James and Jeff Lindor at The Gentleman’s Factory in Brooklyn. Photo Credit Demetrius Freeman for The New York Times — From left, Tim Jack, Prince James and Jeff Lindor at The Gentleman’s Factory in Brooklyn. *Photo Credit Demetrius Freeman for The New York Times*

Members access the space, located in Central Brooklyn, by having their fingers scanned and giving a passcode. Upon entering, they find a lounge, complete with couches, a barber chair and books on finance. The spiral staircase leads to an area with workstations.

Inside on a recent day, a man who works as a consultant helped five others get businesses certified. Another launched a campaign to run for City Council, engaging members to assist in outreach. An author presented research in a forum. The Gentlemen’s Factory brought them all together.

As one of the very few spaces in New York City exclusively for men of color, The Gentlemen’s Factory began as a middle ground between work and home for men who need a venue for networking and socializing.

“They’re going through a divorce, or they have mental health challenges, or they’re going on an interview but they don’t know how to ask for a salary increase,” said Jeff Lindor, the club’s founder. “There wasn’t an outlet for them to be.”

Mr. Lindor, clad in a custom-made Prince James suit (the designer is a Gentlemen’s Factory member) noted that members contribute to making the space their own, whether it’s the Malcolm X art above the leather sofa or the magazines near the coffee table.

Born in Petit-Goâve, Haiti, Mr. Lindor was raised in a Coney Island housing project. The son of non-English speaking immigrants, Mr. Lindor and his family were wedged between a wealthy, white community on one end of the neighborhood and an impoverished and predominantly black population on the other. He asked himself: Why does my community look like this? Why does blackness look like this?

The socioeconomic disparities between white and black people inspired Mr. Lindor to study Urban Policy at the New School, where the seed of what would become The Gentlemen’s Factory started to germinate.

While earning his master’s degree, he organized gatherings with other black men to discuss their experiences.

Their first event was a Saturday gentlemen’s brunch in Brooklyn, with a $50 entry fee. When 40 black men showed up, Lindor realized that the group might need a dedicated physical space.

The mixers that followed led to hundreds of black male New Yorkers gathering. “I had to ask myself,” Mr. Lindor said, “Is this an enterprise or a hobby?”

At the time, Mr. Lindor was working as the strategic adviser to the executive staff at the Department of Correction, in the DeBlasio Administration. He resigned, spent two months developing a business model, then secured a lease with money he had saved. Mr. Lindor asked friends who made more than six figures a year if they would support him; in the end, they invested $100,000 into The Gentleman’s Factory.

"There are very few spaces where men of color can come together and engage in meaningful dialogue, said Rubain Dorancy, a member who is also an attorney and an educational consultant. “At the Gentlemen's Factory, you will find men of all ages and with varied backgrounds, engaging, supporting and uplifting each other."

Spaces made by and for people of color are not new.

In 1826, young African-Americans gathered at 161 Duane Street to socialize and discuss the arts in a group known as the Philomathean Literary Society.

In 1892, Victoria Earle Matthews, an author and activist, created the first black women’s club in New York City, the Women’s Loyal Union. Five years later, in 1897, she created the White Rose Mission, in uptown Manhattan, where young black girls who migrated from the South could get acclimated to city life.

Yet social spaces for people of color such as The Gentlemen’s Factory — with its 100+ member strong base and a range of event programming, from finance workshops to wellness seminars — remain extremely rare in New York.

In the 1950s and ’60s, there were many social clubs in different communities of color, but as the decades passed, their numbers dwindled. Some clubs closed because they were being operated illegally; others could not afford the expensive licenses required.

Today, Toñita’s is often called the last Puerto Rican social club in Brooklyn. The last remaining black LGBTQIA+ club in New York City, Langston’s, needs $73,000 to stay open.

The Gentlemen’s Factory charges $150 a month for membership. Prospective members must fill out an application and be interviewed and screened by a committee. If a white man wanted to join, Mr. Lindor says, “We don’t discriminate. He’ll just have to know that all of the content is still going to speak about the black and brown male experience.”

In New York, the law states that any public establishment must allow full and equal access to people irrespective of race, as well as “color, religion, or national origin.” Alicia McCauley, Deputy Press Secretary of the New York City Commission on Human Rights, says, “NYC Human Rights Law protects against racial discrimination in any form, including in public accommodations such as social clubs. However, social clubs can be centered around certain experiences as long as the membership policy is not discriminatory based on race, religion, national origin, or any one of the other 22 protected categories in NYC.”

Mr. Lindor’s dream is to expand into Harlem, DC, and London, and to learn how to navigate venture capital funding. “I was privileged enough to get family and friends to donate, but when I look at my counterparts, they’re getting millions. There need to be more spaces like this — but how are we going to fund it?”