Basketball was everything in 1960s College Park

What Black Women Athletes Taught Me Ep. 2

“Basketball was everything,” in the 1960s, in College Park, Georgia.

We would leave school, go home and get a bite to eat and go to Brady Gym and play until the gym closed… at night. Pick up ball.

- Jessica Muhammad

Brady Gym is a part of the Wayman & Bessie Brady Recreation Center, an important location within the historically Black “One Square Mile” neighborhood in College Park, Georgia, which is just outside Atlanta.

The community center opened in the early 1950s, specifically for College Park’s Black residents since they were not allowed to enter Conley Rec Center. This was the era of legal segregation, so the One Square Mile community created their own barbershop, churches, funeral home, cab company, restaurants, – “the only thing we didn’t have was a bank,” a community member said.

While other sports were played at Brady during its busiest days, basketball was the thing. Once Eva Thomas High School opened up, the girls and boys teams became an extension of what was going at Brady. One teenager missed prom in the late ‘60s to do stats for a state championship game.

Notice the girls being relegated to a small detail the bottom of the news reports. Also, the Stinchcombs were a basketball family! Articles from Atlanta Journal.

When there was no funding provided for facilities to educate the growing number of Black children in College Park, “double sessions” were needed (attending school in shifts) – and classes were held at Brady. When urban renewal forced the closure of a community church, services were held at Brady.

Basketball was everything, and so was Brady.

Today I am continuing the What Black Women Athletes Taught Me series, and I’m sharing some of what I learned from two women I met who played basketball at Brady and Eva Thomas High School.

Photos from Brady Center in February 2025.

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I saw the quote “basketball was everything,” and knew I had to reach out to Ms Jessica. I was researching the neighborhood for my graduate research assistantship and was just about to submit my capstone proposal about basketball as resistance and the evolution of Black women’s basketball in Atlanta over the last century. Way too ambitious for a four-month project, but here’s the final capstone project if you haven’t seen it. Consider it v1, if you will.

Anyway, I reached out to her on Facebook, we did an oral history, and she connected me to her teammate Ms Wajeedah. These two women taught me to start taking better care of myself and take that care seriously.

I’ve always loved being active, but I haven’t always been consistent. One year on, one year off. Four months on, four months off. And I’m always saying “one day I’m going to be more consistent.” Now, I’ve already told you about my family history, but I didn’t mention how much grad school impacted my physical health – I was in pain a lot, trying to get everything done. Reading just one more chapter. Doing just one more hour of research. There was always something more interesting than my health or more exciting than maintaining a fitness routine.

My guiding question for the capstone was: How did basketball help Black women deal with the violence of the Jim Crow Era?

Ms Wajeedah said basketball was something that was just for her, nobody else. It allowed her to be good at something and express her competitive and organized self. What she also emphasized was how playing basketball, and sports in general, then gave her the ability to move the way she does now, or at least in 2025 when we spoke.

Both she and Ms Jessica move better than anyone else I know at their age, and some people younger than them. Genuinely, there was a moment Ms Jessica got up off of her couch and jogged to demonstrate something – and I was like, woah. We also went hiking once and she has hosted many outdoor events and activities. Ms Wajeedah forgot about one of our appointments because her weekly bowling was at the same time. I didn’t mind, I was like, she’s really a woman on the move! She doesn’t just say it, she lives it. They both do.

Now, you may be thinking: Duh, Bria. Movement is one of the keys to longevity. I mean, it’s logical. But there is a difference between being told something and experiencing or seeing it in action like with these two women.

The foundation built more than 50 years ago at the Brady Gym still benefits both of them today. That knowledge and my constant body pain made me want to take action.

So I met them in February 2025 and by April, I started exercising regularly again. Last May, I bought a Peloton bike on Facebook Marketplace, redownloaded the app and have been exercising consistently ever since. I just hit a 41-week streak. Strength training with weights, mobility, cycling and pilates – and bringing back walking and yoga – have gotten rid of a lot of ailments I’ve had and improved my life in other ways.

One thing both Ms Jessica, Ms Wajeedah, and others who’ve come up in my research have done is pass on the benefits of movement to the next generation in various ways. Ms Wajeedah even wrote a book about basketball.

This week was my first as a coach with Girls on the Run, and what I love is the focus on mental, social, physical, and emotional benefits of playing sports – not just on winning or getting to an elite level. While coaching is not my full-time job, I feel like I’m following in the footsteps of the women like Ms Wajeedah, Ms. Jessica, and the woman in the generation before them.

Before I go, we have to go back to College Park. Eva Thomas High School, where Ms Jessica and Ms Wajeedah attended, closed before they were able to graduate from their neighborhood school, named after the beloved community member. The story of this decision – and the students protests – was explored in a documentary, and it’s worth a watch. While the Brady Center and the barbershop are still standing, the rest of the original One Square Mile neighborhood is not, mainly because of what the Atlanta airport expansion and Airport Abatement Program did to the neighborhood.

The physical neighborhood that existed when they were growing up is gone, but I feel like the legacy can live on in many ways. Through additional stories I have to share – I did two full oral histories and have so much not yet explored – and through what they’ve given me and anyone else who reads this and decides to make a positive change in their own health through movement or in the lives of the next generation.