The Postcard
Up until last semester, I spent most of my days in Staten Island: the borough forever pushed aside by other New Yorkers in favor of the brighter, more glamorous Manhattan. Manhattan is, more or less, a new place I have been exploring in the past year of college and this postcard–which was first a map and then a partially illustrated travel poster–shows just that. Taking the ferry onto another picturesque island is the first step of my daily commute and I would like to pay homage to it, even if it is my least favorite routine some days.
(The ferry was illustrated in Adobe Illustrator and the city is part of an old photo I found on my desktop from this year.)
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The Essay
Manhattan represents a new part of my life that is beyond the 61 miles promised by Staten Island. For now, it is the place where I am pursuing my dreams at a school I could not have imagined going to. If you had asked me a year ago today, I probably would have laughed in your face: I would have favored a college in a small town where I would spend most of my days in a lab environment and then retire to my dorm room. If you told me I would be studying advertising and psychology, I would not believe you. But everything has changed.
Since I started going to school in the city, I have met people with careers that I never once though in high school were options in this economy: actors, writers, and artists. I would have given up my career choice for something more pragmatic in the future. But when I met all of these interesting people, I threw it all away. I knew that doing what I love would mean more to me than what would sustain my 2.4 kids and 1.6 dogs in the future. I can worry about all of that later. I found my future in Manhattan.
As for Brooklyn, I grew up there. I used to live on a block where everyone knew each other and local businesses thrived. This was back in the late 1990s and early 2000s. I’m sure things have changed. When I Googled my old home address, I found what appears to be a small chain pizza place down the block that was not there when I lived in Brooklyn. Another branch of said pizza place exists down the block from where I currently live.
When I turned seven, our landlord hiked up the rent and my parents did what they had to: they bought a house in Staten Island and Brooklyn became a place of the past for me. I have been to Brooklyn maybe twenty times in the past year, excluding school-related activities. But Staten Island is now my home: every tree (and there are many), every museum unheard of by the average New Yorker, and every school I’ve been to (I can name at least four off the top of my head). Staten Island is my present.
Yet, I still journey to Manhattan every day, which is ironic because my mother lived in Manhattan during her first years in the city. So, I suppose, Manhattan is her past and my future.
