Twenty Miles from Times Square

 

When people think “the Big Apple,” huge skyscrapers and bright billboards come to mind. Although the nickname refers to the collective New York City as a whole, Manhattan rules when it comes to making impressions on visitors or other people foreign to the Empire state. But New York City has five boroughs – everyone knows plenty about the ever-changing frontier of culture and technology that is the big city, but what about the quieter, less commercial, more isolated areas of NYC? Or, more specifically, for example – what about Staten Island?

            Founded in the 17^th century but recognized as part of New York in the 19^th, Staten Island is the smallest borough and also known as the borough of Richmond County. Three still-standing historic landmarks of Staten Island include the small neighborhood of butter churns and brick houses known as historic Richmond town, the Alice Austen house (now a museum showcasing the female photographer’s life) located in Rosebank at the beginning of the borough-long Hylan Boulevard, and the rumored-to-be-haunted Dutch Colonial Conference House located at the end of Hylan Boulevard.

Staten Island, with its total population nearing 500,000 (a number only a fraction, of, say, Brooklyn’s 2.5 million), accounts for a mere 3 percent of foreign-born citizens of New York City. This has many implications, but the real truth is most people have either lived in Staten Island for decades or have simply moved there from another part of the city. I discovered that the latter is common in the traveling patterns of the people around me: Joseph of eastern Dongan Hills, a 44-year-old Puerto Rican originally from Brooklyn, decided that he was fed up with the crowded streets and terrible parking in his home borough and swore to his months-old son that the family would be living in spacy suburban Staten Island by his first birthday. As for the former case, I learned that Gabriela, a teenage aspiring artist of northern South Beach, is currently living in the house her father lived in as a child. Regardless of Staten Island’s deep roots, however, it has seen a 36% increase in immigrant population in the decade after the turn of the millennium, the largest increase of any borough.

Since Staten Island is so small, natives often divide the borough colloquially by using the terms South Shore, North Shore, West Shore, and East Shore, because, of course, it is an island. To understand even more the appeal and characteristics of suburban life, I took a walk around the upper East Shore, specifically Dongan Hills and South Beach.

Wide streets, quiet residential neighborhoods, a boardwalk, and a beach – the East Shore in a few words.

Slater Boulevard, which transitions Dongan Hills into South Beach, sees many passersby looking to travel along one of Staten Island’s main roads, either Hylan Boulevard or Father Capodanno Boulevard.

 

The first thing a newcomer would notice in the East Shore residential neighborhoods is the space. There is always a level sidewalk to be found running parallel to a noticeably large street, already making leisurely walks a very real possibility. On a spring day the greenery is easy to spot, from the sidewalk patches to the lawns of the residents to the trees growing between the electrical wires. The houses, either years old or springing up as of late as houses always seem to be doing in South Beach, look beautifully similar as if from a cartoon depicting a “perfect” neighborhood. With a pool in their back yards and a car or two in the front, residents live homely lives in this Staten Island neighborhood very compatible with families.

Caucasians make up the largest percentage of the demographic of Staten Island. From Irish Americans to Polish Americans, the percentage of Caucasians is roughly a whopping 70%. Looking at the overall demographic, Hispanics such as myself make up a mere 7%. However, Rob Fortunato of Dongan Hills, his wife, and their three girls represent the most prevalent nationality on Staten Island – Italian Americans. Totaling 35% of the demographic, Italian Americans have made their presence on Staten Island very evident. Dongan Hills and South Beach combine for at least 6 Italian restaurants, some shockingly in close proximity. The Catholic and private schools on Staten Island, although currently diminishing, have been dominated by Italian Americans.

There are several small businesses along the shore of South Beach – a deli here, a small restaurant there. Most of the space of this area is taken up by residential homes, and it is an area where builders of homes focus their attention because of the large, plain-like area of plant life. The bigger businesses, however, can be found by taking a walk west to Hylan Boulevard running through Dongan Hills. Hylan Boulevard is the busiest street on Staten Island, yet the traffic only gets bad during rush hour – another facet of suburban life. Small businesses also undoubtedly have a presence: A small, worn down Italian deli called Ariemma’s with an outstanding chicken salad sits across from a florist with the same name – the two have been run by the same owner for a few decades now. During the winter months and spring months the people living in or driving by Dongan Hills get a real treat: Towards December 25^th, Ariemma’s florist is beautifully lit up with Christmas decorations, including both huge, modern inflatable snow globes and also more traditional wreaths with lighting. And once spring comes around, Ariemma’s showcases gorgeous flowers that shine just as brightly – from carnations to chrysanthemums. It is also important to note when considering work on Staten Island that Staten Island is largely considered a “bedroom community,” that is, a place where people who work elsewhere live for convenience and close proximity to the heart of New York City.

As far as education in Dongan Hills and South Beach, there are several public schools; however, most high schoolers on the island aim to attend Staten Island Technical High School in New Dorp, ranked in the top 50 schools in the country, and most younger kids attend private or Catholic schools including St. John Villa Academy and St. Joseph Hill Academy, located just eight minutes from Dongan Hills (making for one short but stressful ride for parents). If you aren’t driving around Staten Island, as approximately half of its residents own registered vehicles, you’re likely taking the bus – both the s78 and s79 stop at Dongan Hills. South Beach is more for drivers, as Father Capodanno is the main road and also pleasantly paved and broad, and at night sometimes residents of Dongan Hills can hear the groaning engines indicative of the illegal racing habits of young people in South Beach.

South Beach is a term literally used to refer to the scenic beach looking out at the Atlantic Ocean where the famous Polar Plunge has been held, but there is much more to this area than some small businesses and a beach – The Franklin Delano Roosevelt boardwalk, for one thing.

The view of the boardwalk from Father Capodanno Boulevard – if you look closely, you can see a small collection of lightposts, which is a circular resting place for boardwalk bikers, runners, or walkers.

Athletics, both recreational and competitive, have a huge presence on Staten Island – here some boys can be seen playing soccer in a field parallel to the boardwalk in the background and also Father Capodanno Boulevard.

This leaping dolphin fountain is located at one of the main entrances to the boardwalk, and has been a staple in the childhood memories of natives such as myself. In the hotter summer months, the water will emerge and create a constant elaborate array beneath the dolphins.

 

The boardwalk is a place of recreation and relaxation. Fields, parks, bike routes, food vendors – everything you could ask for on a nice day by the beach is present here. The Vanderbilt hall, located right on the boardwalk, is a snazzy place for a large celebration with dancing and catering – catering, perhaps, by the South Fin Grill, a steak and seafood restaurant attached to the Vanderbilt that receives many positive reviews from its patrons. A flea market will pop up now and again, but the real special gatherings are the “Back to the Beach” Festivals, the first one occurring at the start of summer in June: Performers, food vendors, merchants, and people looking for a fun night gather at the boardwalk to hear music, eat, and have a good time in preparation for the night’s main attraction – the fireworks. People cover the beach with blankets and wait in the dark with anticipation for the heart-pounding, sky-brightening, colorful light show to begin.

All seems quiet and settling in this small area of the East Shore. However, there is a downside to living here that only rears its ugly head once every few months – the flooding. With most homes sitting just five feet above sea level, the sewer system holds great responsibility in filtering rainwater from the streets of Dongan Hills, and it simply doesn’t make the cut. Basements throughout this neighborhood have felt the inadequacies in the piping – in other words,, many residents have had the misfortune of rainwater and sometimes even sewer water entering their homes in everything from puddles to unstoppable streams and have found that they are in charge of preventing this due largely to the sewer system’s weaknesses. This issue has been addressed by the fire department and even the local news on New York 1, but it continues to cause hardship.

Related to this issue, something massive happened recently in this area’s history that led it to show a lot of character. This something was Hurricane Sandy, and living up the street from a beach can cause huge problems when a wildly powerful storm hits. Essentially, living in this area after the storm you were guaranteed several days without electricity, and if you were especially unlucky as my family was, your home would be hit with a four-foot-high wall of ocean water. The water could easily render your car useless, your garage ruined, and your backyard in disarray. The neighborhood in the wake of the storm looked like something from an apocalyptic movie – cars and trees strewn about, people roaming the streets or putting many of their belongings out on the curb for trash collection. Some lost little, some lost everything.

 

 

 

 

 

But, the people banded together – and even though the government wouldn’t always offer this neighborhood compensation money directly or buy out homes that shouldn’t be lived in any longer, food was easily found and often generously given and volunteers to help with your cleanup process were plenty. Large dunes were built on South Beach to attempt to keep the ocean water where it belongs. During this time signs such as the one above appeared around Dongan Hills and South Beach and remain there, showcasing some character for the neighborhoods. Now, residents live their quiet suburban lives and hope that a tragedy such as this never happens again, and that the peace and harmony of the East Shore remains.

 

 

 

 

Bibliography

 

1. Tumarkin, Laurel, and Jonathan Bowles. “Home | Center for an Urban Future.” Home | Center for an Urban Future. Staten Island Economic Development Corporation, n.d. Web. 04 May 2014.

 

2. “Staten Island History.” Staten Island History. Staten Island Historian, n.d. Web. 04 May 2014.

 

3. Lobo, Arun P., and Joseph Salvo. “The Newest New York.” Nyc.gov. Department of City Planning, 2013. Web. 04 May 2014.

 

Michael Tirado

Son of Suburbia

“What am I forgetting?”  That question inspires one of my least favorite feelings in the world.  Why?  Mostly because it’s hard to forget something and remember it at the same time.  Regardless of my precision in packing four bags to last exactly four days, no more, no less, as I make the final trip out the front door, I know that something will be left behind in suburbia and never make it to the second location of my life split in two – upper Manhattan, Harlem, to be exact.  This week, it was my red and blue Captain America headphones.  Walking to class along the path of St. Nicholas Park is going to be brutal…

            Allow me to backtrack a bit and explain what it is I’m talking about.  To capture my situation perfectly in one sentence, I suppose I could say I am a student at City College in Manhattan and a resident of Staten Island.  Usually one of the first questions I get when I release this information in conversation asks if I live in a dorm at college.  My answer is short, but very specific – “four days, and I go home Thursday night.”  The reason giving such a specific answer is so important to me is related to my sworn oath to never refer to my dorm as “home”:  Quiet, residential Dongan Hills on Staten Island reserves that title until the day my family and I pick up and move.  However, in a given week during the school year, the time I spend at college is greater than the time I spend on Staten Island.  By now I’ve completely adjusted to living in two places, but when I began to do so it almost felt as though I wasn’t staying anywhere, I was only in an uncomfortable state stuck in between living at home and living at the dorm.  Yet, I still feel as though I have two separate lives – one as a student and one as a son/brother – but both undeniably New Yorker.

            Before I continue(in case it isn’t already clear), I should state that my preference between Staten Island and urban-style New York City is easily Staten Island.  Quiet and spaced out neighborhoods, having the choice to walk, drive, or take public transportation easily, and my favorite things, wide streets, are aspects of suburban life I never want to be completely withdrawn from.  This should explain some percentage of my desire to evacuate Manhattan and return home every single weekend.  I don’t hate the city, but I love Staten Island.

            Anyway, back to where I left off on my journey out the front door.  With my bag of clothes, supply of food, backpack of electronics and books, and guitar case, I feel ready to switch to life number two (minus that feeling of forgetfulness).  After answering a hundred questions from my worrying but caring mom, I say goodbye to her, a younger brother and sister, an enthusiastic dog, and a cat, if he happens to be walking by.  I mentioned that my familiar suburban neighborhood is on the list of reasons I look forward to coming back – these five are another reason, and they remain at the top of the list. 

            I shut the door and walk over to my sixth family member, who is graciously waiting in the car to drive me through three different boroughs to get to Harlem.  Being the oldest kid in the family means I’m the pioneer – first one to go to college, etc. – and my parents have spared no effort in ensuring comfort isn’t something I’ll be lacking.  We start off the shortest segment of the drive in Staten Island – we pass the park I used to play in as a child, which now seems so much smaller (and less exciting), drive up to the main street spanning Staten Island, Hylan Boulevard, and join the cars making their way to the Verrazano Bridge to cross over into the urban boroughs.  The bridge always has been a sight suggesting home for me – I can see it from my window and on my way back into my home borough from elsewhere in New York.  After gazing out over the water from the upper level, my dad and I enter our place of birth – Brooklyn.

                        E.B. White wrote that there are “roughly three New Yorks”:  There is the familiar New York of the born-and-raised New Yorker, there is the one-dimensional New York of the commuter, and there is the objective and larger-than-life New York of the dream chaser.  I was born in Brooklyn and raised in Staten Island, which are two of the five boroughs of New York City, but regardless my New York undoubtedly falls under the second category.  My family and I have traveled into the heart of New York City dozens of times, don’t get me wrong, but 99 percent of the time we do this with blinders in our peripheral vision – we take a car, drive to the Broadway show or comic convention, attend the event, and drive home.  What I mean by metaphorical “blinders” is that the way I’ve gone about traversing the city in past years blinds me to the true character of the city demonstrated by the people there rather than big events.  It’s almost as if I travel through a tunnel, a trip with only a beginning and end and nothing to see in between.  In this way I feel like a commuter in New York City, spending as little time as possible there to attend a given enjoyable event.  I wonder if it was Times Square that made me hate crowds…or have I always hated them?

            My mom says that if my dad and I were any more similar, we’d be the same person.  So, naturally, this never leaves us without something to talk about – the very thing that makes such long car rides great for me.  But this time his mind is preoccupied with our cat’s failing kidneys and the question of how much longer we’ll have our oldest and dearest pet.  So, I take the opportunity to look around a bit more.  Driving on an elevated highway in Brooklyn provides me not only with views of all the clever New York billboards intended for drivers – one of my favorites read something like this, “Welcome to New York, where we’ve got 9 professional sports teams…and the Mets” – but also with views in between buildings and views of the people down below.  I enjoy this position of looking in/down at Brooklyn until we reach the point of no return to suburban life, the medium between the end of familiarity and the beginning of grand urbanity – the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel.

            Nothing exists in the tunnel – no radio transmission, no human interaction, no environment other than the walls narrowly surrounding our large Ford Expedition.  I will always be taken by surprise by the massive metropolitan feeling that arises upon emerging and seeing the first collection of skyscrapers.  Thirty minutes from my house and technically in the same city, but this is definitely NOT home. 

            Driving up the east side is a pleasant experience, whether at night or during the day – the lights, the water, the open highway.  It’s funny, though, because I think I’d prefer to only be passing through in a car rather than to be walking by to see the very same sights that I enjoy.  We cross over Harlem to reach the west side and soon arrive at the destination.  I make as many trips as possible from the car to my dorm room in order to see my dad and car as many times as I can and finally say goodbye until Thursday.  I am officially bereft of the feeling of home, save for the few things that I brought with me.

I did say that I don’t exactly hate the city, didn’t I?

Now I’m walking up the hill from the conveniently places deli that has my favorite Tropicana Strawberry Banana fruit drink.  As I reach into my pocket to text my girlfriend who makes living at school so much more than bearable, I surprisingly pull out my red and blue Captain America headphones.  Maybe the next four days won’t be so bad after all.

Immigration and/or assimilation in my family are two concepts I have spent very little time contemplating.  The reason for this is simple – I am a fourth generation Puerto-Rican American whose family has been in the United States for nearly 70 years.  Although Puerto Ricans do not technically qualify as immigrants, the trip three of my grandparents (and one great-grandparent) made to New York City certainly qualifies as a great journey.  The fourth grandparent, my maternal grandfather, was a Sicilian immigrant, but I sooner consider myself to be Puerto Rican.  My maternal great-grandmother made the original journey that placed the first member of my family in the United States.

 

My grandmother was seven years old living in Guyama, Puerto RIco, with only her mother when my great grandmother made the decision to come to New York.  It was only the two of them – my great-grandmother was a good seamstress and that was what kept them relatively stable.  She had split up from her husband and decided that she was going to find a better place for my grandmother to grow up in.  Their family had friendly correspondents in New York, the Bronx more specifically, and they told her that a seamstress could do well in their area.  So, my great grandmother saved up money over a period of time and was able to purchase fare for herself to travel to New York.  Originally, she could only afford her fare, so she left my grandmother with my great-grandmother’s sister until she later returned for her in 1945.  The two settled in the Bronx as they together learned English and went to work/school.  Luckily Spanish wasn’t the least common language in New York City, so their assimilation could have been harder than it was.

 

My grandmother grew up in the Bronx and moved in with her husband, my Italian-immigrant grandfather, in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn.  He supported her with his bread business and together they had my mother as one of five children.  At the same time my mother was growing up in Bay Ridge, my father was doing the same in the same place.  My father, his sister, and my paternal Puerto Rican-immigrant grandparents also lived in Bay Ridge at this time.

 

So, it has been a very long time since my immediate family has lived in another country.  Since then, we have unfortunately preserved very little of our original culture; however, we have largely embraced the culture of America.  My paternal grandfather has been a huge Elvis Presley fan since his rise to fame, and my maternal grandmother has loved American television shows such as I Love Lucy since their original air dates.  Only one member of my entire extended family (ending with first cousins) still speaks Spanish.  I’ve decided that this is neither something “good” nor “bad,” it simply is…although I do wish I had the opportunity to learn such a useful language when I was younger.  At the same time, I am very thankful I am not constantly being pulled between two cultural identities. Essentially, I am very happy to be a fourth generation American.

 

Michael Tirado, Assignment 1

Guangdong is a province that spans a fairly large area of China.  It is located on the southern edge of the massive country.  Guangdong is neither a city nor its own country; it is a province (as previously stated) that encompasses several Cantonese regions including its capital city, Guangzhou, which was formerly known as Canton.  Guangdong is geographically unique in China for its 3,368 kilometers of coastline, the Pearl River Delta formed by rivers from all over the province, and, unfortunately for its residents, a typhoon season.

 

More notably, this province was the origin of the maritime Silk Road and is generally known as an area busy with commerce and industry.  Its capital city, Guangzhou, is the political, economic, scientific, and cultural center of the region.  The Canton fair is held here, which provides major opportunities for international trade.  Guangdong takes part in traditional Chinese events such as the Spring Festival and Lantern Festival.  The Pearl River Cruise, however, is something largely exclusive to Guangdong, as it tours the region’s third largest river and is a must-see attraction for tourists.  Also, the Guangzhou International Food Festival and the Yangjiang Kite Festival are prominent and area-specific events to be had in Guangdong.

 

New York City is a collection of five boroughs of New York State.  It is located on the northeast coast of the United States.  Staten Island is the most suburban borough, and Brooklyn, the Bronx, and Queens are generally second in urban areas to the fifth borough, Manhattan.  Together they make up the most populated city of the United States of America.  Notable characteristics associated with New York City include esteemed theater performances on and off Broadway, extensive mass transit systems, and a wide variety of fashions and cuisine.

 

These two areas of the world are approximately 8,000 miles apart – yet, somehow, they are connected.  Of course, the natural question to be asked is, how are New York City and Guangdong, China linked?  In a word, Chinatown.  New York City’s Chinatown is located in Manhattan and is essentially the largest sampler or representation of the Chinese culture outside the country of China itself.  Walking the streets of this area of lower Manhattan will showcase the architectural atmosphere, cuisine, and, of course, people that have some degree of history with China.

 

 

 

But Chinatown is more than just the home of the majority of Chinese New Yorkers.  It is an example – Chinatown represents the idea that culture is mobile.  With a little human effort, the ideas and traditions of a group of people that have been formed and preserved in one place, perhaps for centuries, can be upheld somewhere other than that place.  It is remarkable to think about.  Of course, assimilation does not always come without difficulty(in the example of Chinatown, the Chinese Exclusion Act), but it is still very, very possible.

 

Perhaps what makes New York City most noteworthy is that it is a mix of many different peoples and their ethnicities.  One will find many, many different types of people here and, similar to the concept of the United States, all these different peoples are united under the title of “New Yorker.”  There even exist various cultural areas, such as Chinatown and Little Italy, which directly present elements of lands far from the northeast coast of the United States.  For a large span of history, people of these lands have decided to pursue opportunities provided by the economy of New York and left their homes, often bringing with them little more than the values and traditions instilled into them by their original cultures.  Over time, the ideas brought over manifested themselves in the daily lives of these immigrant citizens, giving them a “new homeland”.  In this manner New York City is introduced to the flavors of different regions via its foreign citizens. So, Guangdong offers a culture and New York City offers a new home – and people are the medium of this transaction.

 

Andrew Chen is a second-generation American, and more specifically, New Yorker.  He lives in Queens and attends the City College of New York.  Andrew is a Chinese-American – his parents emigrated from the Guangdong region of China.  Both grew up on farms and had visions of a more successful future:  Andrew’s paternal family was rather average and sought better opportunities, while his maternal family was well-established but did not wish for future generations to be farmers.  Suddenly moving to New York was not an easy experience.  Andrew’s father both attended high school and worked as a bartender to support his four-member family, and Andrew’s mother struggled immensely with learning English (neither had known any of the language upon entering high school).  Both did well enough to get into college, however, and that was where they met.  The Americas did indeed offer better opportunities to this family, as Andrew’s father became knowledgeable in computing and likely would not have been able to do so in Guangdong.

 

Andrew’s parents began new lives in New York with a goal in mind – to ensure that the generations they could have (and did) spawn would grow up to be skilled in a profession that was not simple agriculture.  So far, they are accomplishing their goal:  Their offspring is studying in college.  They uprooted themselves, essentially for his sake, and sprouted a new family tree 8,000 miles from their original home.  When they did this, they indirectly accomplished another feat – by successfully establishing themselves in the United States, Andrew’s parents showed their Chinese relatives in Guangdong that something better was very possible.  They were the first members of their immediate or extended families to immigrate, and by doing so effectively they inspired other family members in Guangdong to do the same.  Thus, some of Guangdong, China is in New York City.

 

And so, the cycle of immigration continues.  Perhaps relatives of Andrew’s that remain in China will arrive here one day.  Immigrants constantly broaden the spectrum of culture by bringing new things to new places, which meshes different civilizations together and creates a remarkable hybrid.  Basically, Andrew is Chinese and American.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Source for information on Guangdong:

 

“Guangdong Travel Guide: Tours, Map, History, Attractions, Climate, Cantonese Cuisine.” Guangdong Travel Guide: Tours, Map, History, Attractions, Climate, Cantonese Cuisine. N.p., n.d. Web. 02 Feb. 2014.