Heads up, there's some salty language ahead.

Hey, everyone, you're listening to Code Switch.

I'm B.A. Parker.

That still sounds bad.

Wait, so I'm learning how to play the banjo.

Be kind, I'm not great, and I've been getting some guff about it.

You'd be surprised at the amount of attention one gets as a black woman commuting on the subway with a banjo on her back.

It's mostly older white guys telling me to keep up the good work.

Like they're passing this baton that's inherently theirs.

And to be honest, that's what learning it at home was feeling like.

We're a work in progress, people.

I mean, there's YouTube tutorials galore, but they're mainly white guys teaching how to be the next Ralph Stanley.

It's hard to get that little sneaky lick, you know, slow, but I'll get it as slow as I can.

That's made learning how to play the banjo a bit lonely.

Come on down, folks.

So when I finally sought out community, I didn't know it would lead me to a banjo toss, or rather the banjo toss.

Hello.

Welcome to the 2024 banjo toss.

It's this absurdist event at the Brooklyn Folk Festival,

where competitors toss a banjo on a long rope into the Guana's Canal.

The person who throws it farthest wins free dinner in a show.

Now, I didn't do the toss.

...