When I think of NYC...

When I think of New York City, awesome childhood memories resurface.  Hanging with my cousins in my beloved Washington Square Park, and jumping in the fountain on scorching summer days was an all time favorite! As I let my mind wander, I see myself sitting through Charlie’s comedy hour in the park. I laughed loudly with the crowd even when most of the jokes went right over my head. The crowd was quite diverse. It included people of all ages, and of many nationalities: tourists, NYU students, artists, models, Rastafarians, Punk Rockers, homeless men, wealthy women, gay couples, and even little Spanish speaking children from Colombia (my cousins and me..lol). It was in this park that I learned to pop a wheelie and skateboard. It was here that I’d watch and later learn to play chess and bocci.  It was also here where I’d summon up all my courage and say “no” to Rastas pushing Ses.

 As I got older and was permitted to ride the subway, I ventured beyond my park and met new people. In my teen years, Chelsea Cinemas was a big gathering place. I made many friends there.  I met kids from Fulton and Chelsea and played basketball in the projects. My brother would later explain to me the reasons why I should not frequent these places. I had not stopped to see what was beyond the basketball court, I had just focused on my game. Ray’s Pizzeria on St. Mark’s was another big hangout in the 80’s. I’d meet up with my high school friends there on weekends and talk for hours while eating the best pizza ever made! I went to Catholic School and therefore had friends from all over the city. We’d hangout in Stuyvesant Town, Central Park West, Hell’s Kitchen, Chelsea, Little Italy, the Lower East Side, Chinatown, and of course my neighborhood, Greenwich Village. As a kid, I never stopped to consider all of the various communities and the differences in language and culture. This “melting pot” was my world, and in it we were all equals. When I’d buy falafels on Macdougal Street; listen to Jazz outside the Blue Note and the Village Gate; spend hours at the Italian feasts; and line up on 6^th Ave. to watch the Halloween/Gay Pride Parade, it did not register to me that I was greatly privileged to be a New Yorker.

That was then and this is now. Today I thank my lucky stars that I was raised in New York City. My childhood experiences shaped the person I am today. I am proud to say that I lack the prejudices that so many people harbor. I understand, and accept, differences in customs and cultures, and would never show apathy towards or disrespect for others. Appreciating differences is ingrained in me. I have travelled to many places and met different people, and I truly believe that there is no better place in the world than New York City.