OK, so in class I said that none of the movies we’ve seen represents “my New York”. That’s because in all the movies we watched, the people all lived in New York, but I’m from Long Island and I’ve lived there essentially my whole life, meaning I’m just a visitor. I actually was born in the Bronx and lived there until I was three, so I have vague, random memories of living in an apartment; mainly of cutting my own hair while watching Cinderella and subsequently hiding in the hallway. There was one scene in a movie that I really related to, though, and that was the scene from In America when Christy and Ariel first see New York—the fabled lights, colors, and sounds that just enter your very being when you first see them. That is my New York.
I have so many wonderful memories of New York throughout my life, mainly because going into the city was always a special occasion. My earliest memory of going into Manhattan is when I was in fourth grade or so and my parents took me to the American Girl Store. It was a little girl’s paradise—or Eden, if you will—and I even remember picking out a skirt to wear especially for the occasion. As I’ve gotten older my New York experiences have changed as well. The summer before seventh grade my parents finally decided that my brother and I were old enough to appreciate going to a baseball game, and we went to Yankee Stadium for the first time. You never forget the first time you see that impossibly green, perfectly manicured grass. For my thirteenth birthday I was in my huge Beatles/John Lennon/phase, and I made a special request to go to Strawberry Fields. (For the record, I now believe Paul McCartney to be the superior musician).
When I was in tenth grade I entered my Broadway phase, and my first show was Hairspray with my mom. I had also begun my enduring love of all things Monty Python, a love I inherited from my dad, so he and I went to see Spamalot. For Christmas my brother Tommy gave me my greatest Christmas surprise ever—tickets for the two of us to see Wicked! Then in March my English class went to see In the Heights, and in May I saw Hair for my sixteenth birthday with some of my friends. I must’ve exhausted the family funds, because I haven’t seen a new show since (unless you count 2 years ago when I saw West Side Story with my English class, but that was so wretched that I try not to).
This year I’ve begun some completely new New York experiences—mainly having to go to the city versus wanting to go. In August I actually began to have some serious doubts about whether I was cut out to go to a school that required going into New York so much. I cried every night for a week before I moved in to my dorm and wondered why I didn’t go to Marist or something else in its own little bubble. I had never even taken the Long Island Railroad without my parents or friends. But over the summer I began to learn my way around and I’ve been getting better at it each time I do it—although I still hate buses, and I think I always will.
Despite my hatred of the MTA, I’m still (to borrow a word from Zohar) enchanted by New York City each time I go. It just has this magic feeling about it, like this is the place to be if you want to get something done and make an impact on the world. I feel like being in New York City brings out qualities in people that they may not have known they had. I know that for me, having to go in for school on a regular basis has given me a much better sense of direction, as well as feelings of accomplishment an independence. And it’s not just regular folks like me that feel that extra little swagger in their step! Just look at Jackie O! When her second husband died, instead of kicking back in Cape Cod, she decided it was time to really do something with her life. She moved to New York City and became an editor/activist, and you can see the lasting mark she left on our city every time you walk into Grand Central Station. Even her style changed and became more confident—pantsuits, scarves, and her famous sunglasses replaced the A-line dresses and pearls she wore as First Lady.
Like in any relationship, New York and I are sometimes at odds. There are definitely times when I feel like too much is going on and I would rather stay home in my little Long Island cocoon. But when I really sit down and think about all of the memories I have in the city, and all of the things I still want to do, I really couldn’t picture myself living anywhere else in the world. Despite our little fight over the summer where I probably would’ve called it the most horrible inferno I ever deluded myself into thinking I could live in, I think it’s pretty safe to say that New York is still my Eden.
