Berlynn Beam

Open Letter to Chase Nicholas Keetley, formerly of Black Arts Vancouver Society.

Getting your message today hit harder than I expected. On my birthday, of all days, it brought everything full circle. It reminded me of why things ended the first time — the same patterns, the same disregard, the same sense that my effort and trust never mattered to you the way yours mattered to you.

We were making progress, I thought it just could work out for everyone, but that is leaving too much up to chance.

I tried so hard, not just for us but for the work we were building. I poured myself into the organization, into creating something real. And once again, things fell apart not because of circumstances, but because of choices — choices you made or avoided — that left me holding the weight of consequences you refused to acknowledge.

Over time I became angry, short-tempered, and mean. I couldn’t figure out what was blocking everything between what we said we wanted and what actually happened, so I tried to step back in 2021–23. But every time I did, you begged me to stay with the organization and made personal “promises” in the name of our shared goals. Those promises never materialized, but I stayed anyway. I stayed because I believed in the work, and because I believed the organization could support our communities in a real, sustainable way for years—maybe decades.

What hurts most is realizing how conditional your support was. You showed up when it meant personal recognition, not when it meant strengthening the organization. Watching you walk away from Black Arts Vancouver simply because it wasn’t benefiting you financially said more than you probably realized.

This work has meant 7+ years of inconsistent pay. Taking on multiple jobs is the reality for artists, and for Black people living in these cities. For me, that was a breaking point. It made it impossible to pretend we were still aligned in purpose or values.

And then there was what you implied about my PR status if I didn’t go along with your plans. That crossed a line I can’t forget. Whether you intended it that way or not, it felt manipulative. It felt like you were willing to use fear or pressure when you didn’t get what you wanted. For the record, you did not pay for my PR application, nor were you helpful in the process.

After everything we’ve been through, that realization was devastating. I’m not 19 anymore, rushing to grow up. And you’re not the twisted 26-year-old graffiti artist bboy. We’ve both changed, but not in ways that fit together anymore. When we separated in 2020, you should of accepted no-contact was the best way to move forward, but you continually contacted me under the pretense of work, which was never the case.

I’m not saying any of this to fight. I’m saying it because it’s the truth of my experience. It shook me. It forced me to see things I didn’t want to see — about us, about how we work together, about how you show up when things get hard.

It hurts. It’s disappointing. But it’s also clarifying. Painful clarity, but clarity all the same.

I’ll be stepping back soon — from the organization, from the dynamic, from the cycle we keep repeating. This truth can just exist here, between us.

edit: 2026

Hahahaha, I really wrote that because I felt that way, but a TLDR;