gen·tri·fi·ca·tion (noun) \ˌjen-trə-fə-ˈkā-shən\ :: the process of renewal and rebuilding accompanying the influx of middle-class or affluent people into deteriorating areas that often displaces poorer residents.• • •
I am the face of gentrification. It's not something I aspire to be, just something I am. Most of my friends are, too. White kids from middle-class families who have a dream of moving to New York, but the only places they (and their parents) can afford to take root are Harlem, Brooklyn and Queens. But what is it that makes us feel we're safe enough to live in these historically rough areas? Are things really changing? And if so, is New York losing significant pieces of itself in the process?
East 104th and Second Avenue, near the start of East Harlem.Standing at the bus stop on East 97th Street and Third Avenue earlier tonight, a black man in his mid-40s was explaining how much things have changed to a woman he was with. "It wasn't always like this," he said, gesturing toward East Harlem, which abruptly starts above 97th Street on the East Side. "Used to, you couldn't catch a yellow cab going this way. You could only catch them if there were coming from up there going down." As he spoke, the light turned green and six yellow taxis drove by, heading uptown. "Getting an apartment up there? Yeah you probably could," he said. "But down there, don't even think about it. Nothing below 97th Street even exists to us."
And it isn't all that untrue. I have two friends who share a studio apartment on East 94th Street and Madison Avenue for $1800 a month. Meanwhile, a mere ten blocks up but seven blocks into Harlem, I pay $1740 for a full two bedroom with a living room and kitchen. We ride the same subway, I just get off one stop after them. How is it possible that the two different areas might as well be two different worlds?
East 74th and Second Avenue, just 30 blocks downtown.Harlem is a particular place, and you can tell when you enter it. The people change, the buildings change, the stores and restaurants change. Even, in some cases, the street names change: Sixth Avenue becomes Malcom X Boulevard and Lenox Avenue, Seventh Avenue becomes Adam Clayton Powell and Eighth Avenue becomes Fredrick Douglas Boulevard, all named after historical black figures. Is Harlem unsafe? It's debatable either way. Here on the East Side, I feel pretty secure. Walking home from the bus at 2:30 a.m. a few nights ago wasn't the most comfortable I've ever felt, but when an NYPD van drove by and the officer waved at me, I knew my neighborhood was at least being watched. And I see the police patrolling regularly, stopping to disperse groups or check things over.
Whether gentrification is a good thing or a bad thing, I think it's inevitable. Every morning I see young professionals in business attire standing on the subway platform at 103rd Street. And they aren't just white — they're black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Latino, Indian and an infinite number of other races and combinations. And I guess they, or we, are the future of New York, and one day we'll all look back and remember when we lived uptown or across the river. It may not be a high-rise in Midtown or a classic six on the Upper East Side, but it's a start, and an opportunity those who came before me didn't have even a decade ago. All I can hope is that I make it that much better for those who come after me, and that New York's culture will stay in tact in the process.
