For my final project, I made the decision to research Koreatown. Despite its name, it is nowhere near the size of a town. Instead, it is a tiny sliver of Manhattan that runs between 5th and 6th avenue on 32^nd street. It isn’t large at all, but there’s a lot to be discovered within this small block. Packed inside are numerous restaurants that serve cultural Korean dishes, a food court that serves both bulgolgi and frozen yogurt from an American chain, a bookstore that advertises the latest merchandise from Korea’s pop industry, and even a few French-themed restaurants that exclusively sell desserts, complete with employees wearing berets.

            Koreatown was never formally planned – it just happened. We can trace its origins back to the opening of Koryo books. I briefly interviewed a current employee of the bookstore, a young man with circular rimmed and glasses half of his straight, shoulder length hair pulled back into a ponytail. He told me that the bookstore had been open for about 30 years, which coincides with the time that Korean restaurants started popping up in the area in the 1980s. After the opening of the bookstore and a handful of restaurants, other Korean immigrants were quick to settle and start up their own establishments until their business engulfed the block and the area became known as Koreatown.

            The area has a history of being inhabited mainly by Korean immigrants, and owes its growth to the increase of immigration from South Korea. According to the Asian American Federation of New York Census Information Center, Manhattan’s Asian population saw large growth from 1990 to 2000. From 1990 to 2000, the Asian population in this borough increased by 42 percent from 110,362 to 156,710. Manhattan’s five largest Asian ethnic groups in 2000 were, in order from greatest to least – Chinese, Indians, Japanese, Koreans, and Filipinos. In the year 1990, the Korean population consisted of 6,183 people. By 2000, it had nearly doubled at 11, 851.

           Located right next to Herald Square, Koreatown is easy to reach by subway trains and city buses. The B, D, F, Q, N, R, V and W trains all make stops to Herald Square or to locations nearby. Increased accessibility is offered by the availability of a PATH train station and buses that run along 32^nd street, 34^th street, the Avenue of the Americas and Seventh Avenue. For those looking call Ktown their home, the cultural location is short on space. This has caused various businesses within tiny Koreatown to stack up upon each other, which means most of the available housing is located nearby in the surrounding streets. While the prices of the apartments are not as high as Chelsea or Gramercy Park, the two areas that sandwich Koreatown, the city is still an expensive place to live. So although prices have slipped in recent years, the housing is still not cheap and there are not very many opportunities to buy, creating a competitive market. To get an idea of how much it would cost to live near Koreatown, some examples of apartments include a three-bedroom two-bath penthouse co-op with a terrace, at 372 Fifth Avenue, which dropped from $1.775 million to $1.645 million. A one-bedroom at Herald Towers could rent for about $2,700 a month.

            Koreatown has a variety of businesses and institutions, but schools are not included in that list. Public School No. 33 is located nearby, and a few years ago the students there displayed a higher proficiency at reading and math than the citywide average – 67% and 96% respectively, while the average was 61% and 80%. Eighth graders in Junior High School 104 showed 65% proficiency in reading and 73% in math, versus 43% and 60% citywide. There is a high school nearby called the High School for Fashion Industries. In 2007, the students had SAT averages of 419 in reading and 416 in math and verbal, which is slightly lower than the citywide average of 438, 460 and 433 citywide.

          If you take a casual stroll through Koreatown, you will likely be pleased to discover the variety of businesses that are readily available – there are spas, jewelry stores, and numerous restaurants. One important tip to always keep in mind while making your way through this packed block is this – Always look up. Stacked upon restaurants and spas are karaoke bars and discount clothing shops. Stacked upon those are lounges, electronic stores and much more. When the sky gets dark, the buildings light up and the clubs open their doors to attract a different crowd. Not everything is so openly advertised or easy to spot – sometimes to find a club or a lounge, you need to have gotten a tip from somebody else who is more intimately acquainted with the area. It may be small, but Ktown has many hidden gems just waiting to be uncovered and explored.

          The appearance of Koreatown is that of a narrow block with moderately tall buildings, and on every floor a different business operates. It all comes together to emulate the city of Seoul, South Korea, a densely populated metropolis where many of the immigrants have their roots. The image of Seoul is further reflected in the music that can be heard in the restaurants and the fashion of those who walk the streets. The locals, are well dressed, impeccably groomed and displaying the latest Korean fashion and it is not uncommon to hear upbeat, Korean pop music being played from the speakers inside the food establishments.

            As you walk down the block searching for a particular restaurant, you will likely come by a few delivery trucks with the bright-eyed faces of popular Korean celebrities plastered on their side, the blank white spaces beside them filled with colorful Hangul. Looking around Koryo bookstore, you’re greeted by shelves and shelves of books titled in Korean lettering, and a section of the store is devoted to the latest Kpop stars. You can buy their latest albums, photobooks, and other merchandise. All in all, while Koreatown is small, it does a commendable job in fitting a mini-Seoul inside one Manhattan block. It appears that those who live in or around Koreatown have done their best to create a home away from home.

            There are many differences between American culture and Korean culture. Like in most Asian cultures, there is a great emphasis on family and respect. Elders are greeted with a traditional bow and are served first during meals. Additionally, non-family members are also treated with a large amount of care and respect. While emphasis is placed on family, Koreans also value relationships with neighbors and encourage participation in community events. Interestingly, when Korean infants become 100 days old or when a person reaches 60 years old, it is a cause for a family celebration.

              Traditionally, Korean marriages are arranged by the family elders, who are considered the wisest and therefore make the most important decisions. Together with the parents of the bride and groom and a matchmaker, the groom’s horoscope is analyzed, a marriage date is set, and then the wedding is organized. It is the responsibility of the groom’s family to send the bride a wedding dress along with additional gifts. Korea also observes many holidays that are not celebrated in the United States, including the Korean New Year, known as Seollal, the celebration of the first full moon, Daeboreum, the celebration of Spring, called Dano, and Chuseok, which is a harvest festival and also an event to honor one’s ancestors. During these holidays it is common to wear traditional garb known as Hanbok.

           The creation story of Korea can be found in its mythology. It is believed that a god named Hwanung descended from the heavens and used his power to transform a bear into a woman. He married her and the woman gave birth to their son, named Tangun who became the founder of Korea and created the first capital of the Korean nation in 2333 BC. The Korean writing style, known as Hangul, was invented in 1446 during the rule of King Sejong. Originally, the alphabet consisted of 28 letters. Today, only 24 of those letters are used.

          Koreatown has seen rapid development since its humble origins in the 1980s. Since it is still young and developing, the existence of this unique, cultural location of Manhattan doesn’t seem be threatened. The only potential issues it may face in the future is an influx of European immigrants taking interest in the tiny Manhattan block or increased competition as new businesses all fight for their own space in a small area with limited room.

           At a glance, Koreatown may not seem like much. It isn’t large, most of the food looks as foreign as it sounds, and you can walk through it in less than five minutes. But if you pay just a little extra attention, there’s a lot waiting to be experienced. Whether you’re into food, karaoke, or shopping, it’s easy to find a reason to spend time there.

WORKS CITED:

1. “A Stroll Through Manhattan’s Koreatown.” Time To Wander. WordPress, n.d. Web. 05 May 2014. <http://www.timetowander.com/manhattan-koreatown/>.

2. Panse, Sonal. “Korean Culture.” Buzzle. Buzzle.com, 16 Apr. 2008. Web. 05 May 2014. <http://www.buzzle.com/articles/korean-culture.html>.

3. Pillai, Prabhakar. “Facts About South Korea.” Buzzle. Buzzle.com, n.d. Web. 05 May 2014. <http://www.buzzle.com/articles/facts-about-south-korea.html>.

4. Baldwin, Deborah. “Exotic Flavor, Beyond Just the Food.” The New York Times. The New York Times, 18 Oct. 2008. Web. 05 May 2014. <http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/19/realestate/19livi.html?_r=1&adxnnl=1&pagewanted=all&adxnnlx=1399316805-PyMZcGh/GvkOv4+DNUeZHg&>.

5. “Upcoming Events.” Asian American Federation. Asian American Federation, 2013. Web. 05 May 2014. <http://www.aafny.org/index.asp>. <http://www.aafny.org/cic/briefs/manhattan.pdf>

Everything changed so suddenly – one morning, as with many before it, I woke up to the warm, tropical air of Puerto Rico. Later on that night, I was tucking myself into a new bed, breathing in the foreign scents of New York. It was November, and the air was much cooler here than it was back in Guayanilla. I deliberately slowed my breathing, tasting the air on the back of my tongue, becoming more and more conscious of my breath with every inhale. Simultaneously, I became more conscious of my thoughts.

There had been so many of them scrambling in my mind the entire day. All of them competed for my individual attention, but instead their frequency and intrusiveness just threw me into a haze. My day felt like an endless blur, filled with excitement and nervousness. Distinctly, I recalled the lumps in the back of my throat as I kissed my mother and each of my siblings goodbye, eyesight blurry as I fought back the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. Yet there was still a reason to smile. Most of my family was going to stay behind in Guayanilla, but as I boarded the plane and took one last look at the country I called home for the past 19 years, I felt excitement gather in my heart. I was finally going to the best place on Earth – Nueva York!

I sighed deeply and rolled over, allowing my body to sink into the bed as the day’s events caught up with me. My eyelids, finally heavy with sleep, gratefully shut and in only a short time I felt myself drifting off. Half of me wondered if it was real, if I was truly in the place I had wished to be since I was a little girl. The other half of me dared to think hopefully of the future – the people I would meet, the opportunities I would be given, how perfectly I would speak English, how easily I would become a true New Yorker. I pulled the sheets around me a little tighter, and fell asleep thinking about the job I would start in just a day.

Back home, my father and I worked in a shoe factory. We decided to stick with our trade when we made the big move to New York, so just two days after my arrival in the city I started work at 8AM sharp at Palizio Shoes. My father was always on time, if not early, and so we planned to leave at 6:45 AM. I had woken up at 5:30 AM, body rested, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling. I rose before the sun and began a routine I would go through for years to come. After a fresh shower, I put on dress pants, a blouse, heels, makeup, and jewelry. While I had worn all of these things before, today they felt new. My elevated mood made everything feel exciting, and I could feel the energy in my movements as I put on my coat and wrapped a scarf around my neck.

We took the 6 train from 116^th street and rode down the spine of Lexington Avenue. Past 110^th, past 86^th, past Hunter College on 68^th, and through Grand Central! Mentally I counted how many streets we passed between each stop of the train, and came to a total of 93 streets by the time we reached our destination – 23^rd street. My father and I ascended the stairs, side by side, and walked half a block to Palizio Shoes. It took about 7 minutes, and within those 7 minutes, I was nearly overwhelmed with everything I was experiencing. I heard the sound of cars passing, sirens honking, people talking, and yet the click of my heels against the concrete managed to stick out to my own ears. I studied the people that filled my environment in the fleeting moments before they walked past me, melting into the same anonymous sea from which they appeared. All of them looked busy and confident, as though they had a special place to be, to talk with important people about serious matters. I straightened my back and walked taller, realizing that in a city where no one knew your name or your background, I was just as important as them. I had a place to be, at a certain time, to do a particular task for very important reasons.

The position I occupied at Palizio was not a fancy one by any means, but I worked with pride. My job as a laborer required that I organize the shoes made at the factory. Working in a group of 3 to 4 people, I checked to make sure the shoes had no stains, no threads sticking out, and were paired together with another shoe of the same size and style. At around 11:30 I would break for lunch. It felt good to breathe in the outside air and experience the movement of the city as I walked down the block to a nearby deli. There, I would order a coffee to go with a sandwich, a granola bar, or a piece of cake brought from home. At around 12:30 I would return to my job, which, after a week or so, I performed with confidence.

While I frequently spoke Spanish, I took every chance to speak English – if someone was willing to listen to me, then I would be willing to try. It started off simple – I greeted my co-workers with “Good morning!” and bid them goodbye with “I’ll see you tomorrow!” I would say “please” and “thank you” when I ordered coffee at the deli, “excuse me” if I accidentally collided with someone on the street, “Bless you!” if someone sneezed. Every day I learned new words or phrases, repeating them over and over to make sure I wouldn’t forget. As the years went on, I spoke, wrote, and thought in equal parts Spanish and English.

My mother and my younger siblings arrived in New York a few months later in January. We quickly relocated to Coney Island in Brooklyn, and my commute was extended. I took the D, got off at Atlantic, and transferred to the 6, now riding in the opposite direction to get to work. In the few months that it was only my father and I working in New York, I felt that I had really grown. Other people in my position may have had their hopes dulled by the faithful routine of my job, the search to find their place in a huge city, and the struggle to bridge the language gap. But my personal progress served as the motivation to get me out of bed each morning. I became more skilled at my job, able to work faster and able to form personal relationships with my coworkers.  I could see a difference in my English now compared to when I first arrived on that chilly evening in November. And though I hadn’t been here for long, I had felt at home on the first day. My name is Sonia Gutierrez, and I was born to be a New Yorker.

On February 17, 1947, a little girl named Sonia was born in the small town of Guayanilla, Puerto Rico. Born third out of ten children, out of only which five survived, she looked exactly like her mother with the can-do-it attitude of her father. Sonia came from a religious, hard-working, and loving family, but they were not wealthy by any means and placed more value on working hard to make money to support the family than school. But she was not to be discouraged  – even as a small child, Sonia had big dreams.

Every day she would wake up, dress herself, and run to school, always eager to learn and never discouraged even when tasked with the care of her younger siblings. While never unhappy, she always dreamed of a better life for herself. On occasion, planes would fly over her house, and Sonia would chase them, running freely in countryside that was her backyard, yelling – “Llevame a Nueva York!”  (Take me to New York!)

Yet as her siblings dropped out of school, got married, and had children, Sonia found herself balancing the responsibilities of schoolwork, housework, and child care. Eventually, her mother had to work in order to support the growing family, and needed her daughter to quit school to be more present at home. Disheartened, Sonia returned her books and never finished the seventh grade, but she was not one to give up easily.

At fifteen, she took a job working in a shoe factory and found herself working side by side with her father. Her passion for school never faded, and Sonia took a test and was promoted to the 9^th grade. During the day she worked to bring money to her family and during the night she attended school to benefit herself. In time, a perfect opportunity arose. Her father had made the decision to relocate the family to the mainland United States hoping to find a better life there. In October of 1966, at the age of 19, Sonia found herself in the place of her dreams – New York.

There are many people who find themselves in a similar situation as Sonia –thrown suddenly into a large, anonymous city where no one speaks your language and everyone has someplace to be or someone to meet. Sonia was like a stray puzzle piece, and she needed to find out where she belonged. The main challenge was the language barrier, which she tackled head-first. Not only did she attend language classes, also she spoke English to anyone who was willing to listen. She immersed herself completely in her new world, listening to the radio, watching TV, reading and listening to music in English only. Soon, Sonia and her father paid for tickets to bring the rest of the family over to New York. At the same time, Sonia was earning her GED.

Even as a young lady struggling in a big city, Sonia was always enchanted by New York. She made the rest of her life here – marrying, having children, and eventually being the first person in her family to go to college. She has mastered the blending of Puerto Rican and American culture – she eats rice and beans but also cheeseburgers and fries, she speaks two languages, she watches Jeopardy! but also telenovelas. Sonia is my grandmother, and the efforts she made to succeed in this country has benefitted not only herself but also her family. She recently turned 67 years old, but she is still the same dedicated little girl who never stopped working towards a brighter tomorrow.

    By: Italia Hernandez

        Riding on a crowded train car in Manhattan, you can see the world reflected in the faces of the passengers. There are men, women, and children of every language, color, creed and culture sitting side by side, all of them going about their daily business. People from every part of the globe have been immigrating to the United States for decades, and many find themselves making their way in the Big Apple. While they can all call themselves New Yorkers, each individual has their own story about how they came to claim this title. This is Courtney Edward’s story:

        Her family has its roots in Jamaica, particularly the alluring seaside city of Kingston. This southeastern city is the largest in Jamaica and fittingly its capital. While many of us know of the beautiful, dark skinned residents of African descent that inhabit this gorgeous city, it is also home to people of Chinese and East Indian descent as well as other ethnic groups. Kingston was established in July of 1692 as a refuge for earthquake victims, after this natural disaster destroyed Port Royal earlier that same year. Kingston has come a long way since then, and today it is the most economically important city in its country. Many government institutions operate from there and most monetary transactions take place in this coastal location, stimulating the rest of the country’s economy. Being such an important and influential city in Jamaica, Kingston is on its way to becoming an International Financial Center.

       The first person in the Edwards family to come up to New York was the sister of Courtney’s father – her aunt. Engaged to an American man, she was sent for in the 1980s to New York in order to start a new life with her husband, and once she got here, she sent for her mother – Courtney’s grandmother. Upon arriving in this country, she wasted no time working towards getting the family together. She sent for her son – Courtney’s father. When he got here, he immediately sent for his wife and daughter still living back in Jamaica. On November 29, 1989, Courtney’s mother and sister found themselves in New York. With the family finally reunited, they could now work towards the better future they had envisioned when the thought of moving to the States had first entered their minds.

        What defines an immigrant? The dictionary says an immigrant is a person who migrates to another country, usually for permanent residence. But is that the single best definition? There are people who have come to this country at a young age, sometimes being only a few months old. Some only experience aspects of their “native” culture through the traditions of their parents. Many grow up speaking with no accent, participate in American culture, and identify as Americans first. Are they really immigrants? I believe they are only immigrants by definition. According to Courtney, everyone in her immediate family, whether or not they were born here or immigrated here, are not immigrants. They have all been working hard in this country for years, have lost their accents if they ever had one, and are legally considered to be citizens of the United States of America. Even though some of them were not born here, they have immersed themselves in the culture and lifestyle of New York, and over the years have become fully Americanized. Her grandmother, who still speaks with an accent and has yet to gain her citizenship, is one member of Courtney’s family she considers to still be an immigrant. Having been born and raised here, Courtney considers herself to be an American for the most part but is still in touch with aspects of her Jamaican culture.

          Why do people immigrate to another country? Some are driven out by dangerous situations taking place in their homeland, while others have family in other places of the world and hear that life may be better there. For Courtney’s mother, the opportunities presented by relocating were too good to pass up. Not only were there many potential jobs available for her, but America could also offer better quality education. With the future of her children in her mind, Courtney’s mother made a life changing decision and hopped on a plane to Jamaica, Queens. She sought a better life for her and her family. Did she find it?

            The answer is yes. If we were to speak to Courtney’s mother today, she would tell us that she came to this country with a vision in her mind and hope in her heart. It was through careful planning, willful determination, and the support of her family that allows Courtney’s mother to say that she was able to get everything she wanted out of coming to this country. She worked hard to make sure that her expectations would be met, and today she finds herself in Queens Village, Queens. She is a woman who can say that she has managed to check everything off of her to-do list – she has found success and is giving her family the opportunity to do the same.