Famous and infamous, Harlem is one of New York’s most remarkable neighborhoods. It has an extensive history, a rich, diverse culture, and a limitless future. From its beginnings as a small farming community to the Harlem Renaissance in the 1920’s, then to its fallout in the 1970’s to it’s current gentrification; Harlem is ever-changing, a true testament to the spirit of New York, and a home to many people who love it, myself included.

Whenever I told people in my Buffalo suburb that I was moving to Harlem, I was met with incredulous stares. “Isn’t it dangerous?” They would ask, and I would have to explain that Harlem is an exciting place to live, not to mention beautiful, and most importantly in my case, affordable. The median price for a one-bedroom apartment in Central Harlem is $1,750 a month opposed to $3,000 in the rest of Manhattan (Average Rental). With the rising housing costs in Manhattan, Central Harlem has become a haven for students and the working class. In fact, from 2000 to 2010, there was a 34% increase in the number of people aged 20-24 living in Central Harlem (Manhattan Community). As seen in the Lower East Side and Williamsburg, students are often the ones who pave the way for gentrification.

Gentrification happens when the economic and social nature of a neighborhood changes. Over the last decade, more middle-class families are moving to Harlem, driving up the housing prices. Chase banks and chain restaurants are eating up the no-longer-affordable commercial real estate. With its easy access to downtown, Harlem is becoming a more desirable place to live for young professionals. The rising rent is starting to push out native Harlem residents, and many are not happy. Jeff, an African American man in his forties, told me that he had lived in Harlem his whole life but is considering moving to the Bronx where rent is cheaper. “I live here because I can afford it, and it’s a subway ride from my job. But with all the rich people moving here, people like me will have to move away. That’s just not fair.” While no one misses the Harlem of the 1970’s, some of its rich culture is being lost when residents are displaced.

But perhaps gentrification is only another chapter in Harlem’s vast history. Bordered by Central Park to the south, the Harlem River to the north, St. Nicholas Avenue to the West, and 5^th Avenue to the East (Neighborhood Profile), Central Harlem is an area rich in culture and history. Harlem was originally settled by the Dutch in 1658 and used primarily for farmland. Later on, many wealthy politicians, including Alexander Hamilton, took up residence there in order to get away from busy life in New York City.

As New York’s population expanded, residents started moving north. Apartment   buildings were built and Harlem became a residential district. After the panic of 1893, Harlem faced a sharp decline and landlords couldn’t find anyone to rent to, so they started to rent to African Americans who had just started to migrate north after the Civil War (Chakravorty). From then on, Harlem was a predominately black neighborhood. Today 65% of Central Harlem’s population is black (U.S. Census).

After the end of World War I, Harlem experienced a movement known as the Harlem Renaissance. Notable people living in Harlem at that time included W.E.B. Du Bois, Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, and Billie Holliday, among many others. These writers, artists, activists, and musicians truly advanced black culture. Jazz music was created and the Apollo Theater was built to showcase African American talent. Jobs were created through speakeasies and clubs. In a time of severe racism, African Americans fought back through creativity (Julius Mitchell II).  The Renaissance created a new identity for African Americans nationwide.

However, the Renaissance came to a screeching halt during the Great Depression. Harlem was hit hard by rising unemployment and many residents took to rioting in the streets (A Brief History). Harlem became a center of activism during the Civil Rights Movement when African Americans were fighting for equality, better schools, equal pay, and sufficient housing. The peaceful suburbs began to attract middle-class families who were sick of the violence of the city. Those who could afford to leave did, and those who could not were forced into paying higher and higher rent for buildings that were not maintained properly (History).

In the 1970’s, Harlem hit its lowest point. The flight to the suburbs had emptied most of its buildings. During that decade, 30% of Harlem’s population left, leaving vacant lots where crime ran rampant (Sternburgh). This is the Harlem that many people think still exists today. However, in the past twenty-ones years, total crime has dropped 74% in Central Harlem, thanks to a crackdown on crime in the 1980’s (Report). When asked if she feels safe in her neighborhood, college student Kelly replied, “Mostly, I’m no more afraid of this neighborhood than I am anywhere else.”

In the 1990’s, Harlem began to change. A report in the New York Times in 1999 stated, “Central Harlem is being remade, literally and figuratively. On almost every street from 110th to 155th Street, Fifth Avenue to St. Nicholas Avenue, some development is under way” (Siegal). City funds were spent bringing Harlem up to date with the rest of the booming New York. More people began to realize its potential. So began the second Harlem Renaissance.

Today, Harlem is a far cry from what it was forty years ago. 125^th street, still the bloodline of Central Harlem, is alive with shoppers. The fashion-conscious are there to take advantage of the deals that many of the stores on 125^th offer. Niesha Hogan, a local Harlem fashionista from California says she loves Harlem because everyone “understands and loves getting dressed” (Andrade).

Also on 125^th are the Studio Museum of Harlem and other small galleries and theaters. Tourists stop to take pictures of the Apollo. New restaurants are opening on almost every street: soul food to French bistros to Red Lobster to hip bars. Harlem is becoming the new cool place to be. Harlem is getting a better reputation in pop culture. “Harlem” a catchy song by the band, New Politics debuted in 2013 and was played on the radio all over the country. Hipsters are probably reconsidering their move to Williamsburg after New Politics painted Harlem in a welcoming and fun way.

With its many parks and affordable housing, Harlem is also becoming a magnet for young families who want to escape the insanity of downtown, yet they can still get to their jobs quickly on the express trains. There are many more options when it comes to larger apartments the further north you go. It is much easier to find a large four-bedroom apartment in Harlem than in the Lower East Side where rooms are smaller and apartments more compact. Many streets have been named historic districts by the city so the beautiful prewar brownstones still stand in all their glory, carefully cared for by the people who live there today (Neighborhood History).

Through all these changes, there are still some people who worry about the changing neighborhood. On top of housing becoming more expensive, the whole makeup of the community is changing. In 2006, the percentage of white people in Harlem was the highest its been since 1940 (Beveridge). While Central Harlem is still predominately black, many residents are afraid that with the influx of whites, they will lose their traditional black neighborhood and culture that has been so long established in Harlem.

It’s fascinating for me to watch the neighborhood change around me. Yet through all of these changes, Harlem is still a true community. Walking down the street, you can see neighbors greeting each other with handshakes and hugs. Locals stand of street corners on the nice days or play basketball in the park. An old man who lives in the building next door is out all day, every day, playing his guitar. Often, people walking by will stop to chat with him; sometimes they even take a moment to sing with him. Unlike many neighborhoods of New York, the people of Harlem still take the time to get to know their neighbors or to greet people on the street with a smile. It is really the people of Harlem who make it such an incredible place to live.

 

 

Works Cited:

 

“A Brief History of Harlem.” OpenLearn. The Open University, 06 June 2008. Web 04 May 2014.

Andrade, Fritzie. “Fashion in Harlem: A Place of Style and Confidence.” The New York Times. The New York Times, 26 Mar 2014. Web. 06 May 2014.

 

“Average Rental Prices in NYC.” Naked Apartments. Web. 1 May 2014. <http://www.nakedapartments.com/blog/average-rental-prices-in-nyc/>.

 

Beveridge, Andrew. “Harlem’s Shifting Population.” Gotham Gazette: The Place for New York Policy and Politics. 02 Sept. 2008. Web. 07 May 2014.

 

Chakravorty Spivak, Gayatri. Harlem. Seagull Publications, 2013. PDF. “History of Harlem.” Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, 05 Mar. 2014. Web. 04 May 2014. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Harlem>.

 

Julius Mitchell II, Ernest. “”Black Renaissance”: A Brief History of the  Concept.” American Studies African American Literary Studies: New Texts, New Approaches, New Challenges 55.4 (2010): 641-65. JSTOR. Web. 02 May 2014.

 

Manhattan Community District 10. New York City: Department of City Planning. June 2013. PDF.

 

“Neighborhood History.” Hamilton Heights West Harlem. Web. 04 May 2014.

 

“Neighborhood Profile: Harlem.” New York Magazine. Web. 02 May 2014.  <http://nymag.com/realestate/articles/neighborhoods/harlem.htm>.

 

Report Covering the Week 4/21/2014 Through 4/27/2014. New York City: NYPD CompStat Unit, 05 May 2014. PDF.

 

Siegal, Nina. “Harlem on the Brink.” The New York Times. The New York Times, 25 Sept. 1999. Web. 05 May 2014.

 

Sternburgh, Adam. “What’s Wrong With Gentrification?” New York Magazine. 11 Dec. 2009. Web. 04 May 2014.

 

U.S. Census Bureau. Population Division. Demographic and Housing Estimates 2008-2010. New York City Department of City Planning, Nov. 2011.

 

The first time I took the train from Buffalo to New York was about one year ago. I came up with my mom to make sure that City College was the right school for me and to see if I could handle New York. However, this was more of a courtesy for my parents since I already knew I was made for the city. There has always been something about New York that drew me here. I knew since I was little that this is where I would end up and when I visited in the forth grade, I vowed to go to school here. 

            Every train ride to New York starts the same way. My mom drives me to the station and we always run a little late. I catch the 7:41 train from the Buffalo Depew train station. I find the strongest man in the vicinity to heave my luggage onto the rack above my head. Then I spread out across two seats and enjoy the eight hours I have to myself to do absolutely nothing.

            Doing absolutely nothing is actually my favorite thing about the train. It isn’t very often that I have the time to relax and think without rushing between one thing and the next. So many people dislike the train because it takes so long, but I love those few hours of relaxation. I put my headphones on and watch New York State go by out the window.

I watch the abandoned buildings of old, decrepit canal towns pass by. I’ve always considered everything between here and Buffalo to be “the woods.” Farmland and the occasional one-stoplight town can be seen out the window between stops.

I think of all the places I could have gone to school. Places where I could have the traditional college experience. A school in the middle of “the woods” where everyone is the same and the most diversity you encounter is which beer you drink that night. Sometimes I envy the simple party lifestyle of my friends at those schools; at least they have more of a community than City College. However, then I have moments where I remember why I chose to come to school in New York anyway. Moments like when I went to Chelsea on a Thursday to go gallery hopping with my friends, or that time my roommates and I danced in an empty C train car. I realize how special my experience is when I spend my weekends at the Met or go to Carnegie Hall with my uncle. My college experience may not be traditional, but it sure beats getting blackout drunk at a frat party every weekend.

We stop in Rochester, then Syracuse; the biggest cities until Albany. It’s so amazing to see all of New York State, since so much of it is farmland. I think a lot of people born and raised in New York City forget that. The world is so different outside of the city’s borders, but it’s home to millions of people. Those who enjoy the slower pace of life outside a major metropolitan area.

The trouble now is that I’m not sure which home is home for me anymore. I guess that’s the trouble with moving away from the place you grew up. Buffalo is where everything I know is. My whole family, the house I grew up in, my friends from preschool to high school; they’re all there, suspended in memory when I’m not around to witness them changing. Yet each time I return, my siblings get older; my little brother starts kindergarten, my sister starts dating a boy who can drive. New stores open where there was nothing or my old neighbors have moved away.

My friends from my high school mostly stayed home for college, or if they did go away, it was only far enough away where they could still go home every weekend. They all hang out with the same people they knew and spend their time doing exactly what they did in high school. Chances are, they will never move away. They will marry each other and send their children to the same schools. They will live within their small cliques, even in their nursing homes sixty years from now. They’ll be happy with their lives, but I can’t live like that.

The Hudson River always seems to sparkle no matter the weather or what time of year it is.  The trick to riding the train is to sit on the right side of the car so you can watch it. If you leave the city in the evening and head towards Buffalo, you can watch the sun set over the river. Small mountains cradle enormous houses that overlook the river. There is even a decaying castle on a small island that I always watch for. I wonder how it got there.

We pass under the Tappan Zee Bridge. We’re getting close now.

The train makes a small turn and there it is. My beautiful city outlined against the sky. It’s like seeing an old lover again, the one you never really forgot. I’m immediately filled with nervous excitement, ready for my new adventure. Everyone aboard can feel that we’re close, it’s as if there’s a completely new energy now, restless and excited. The passengers shift impatiently in their seats.

Just as the train enters the city, it dips underground. The lights go out and there’s an air of anticipation around us. Since I take the subway, I won’t see the city until I’m already where I need to be. I love this part since it makes going above ground at your destination even more exciting. There’s nothing quite like running through Penn Station and seeing everyone living their lives, off on some new adventure, just like me. It’s mind blowing to think that everyone there has a life and a story and a home. I’m just one of those stories in New York, the small town girl here to follow her dreams, and although it’s cliché, I know I belong.

 

I don’t really remember my first visit to New York City. I was in forth grade and had come from Buffalo for my mother’s college graduation. I remember seeing the Flatiron Building, riding the subway, and craning my neck to try and see the tops of the buildings; but not much else. I do remember, however, telling my father that I was going to go to live here one day. I knew then that I would do everything in my power to move to New York City as soon as I could.

Fast forward to my senior year of high school. While most of my friends were applying to colleges around our hometown, I was looking for the cheapest way to go to New York for college. My parent’s had told me early on that I was responsible for my college debt. That’s how I found Macaulay and knew that it was going to help me accomplish my dream. The day I got accepted was the happiest day of my life because I knew there was nothing holding me back anymore. When my friends would ask me if I was scared, I’d tell them no. That was only half true. In a way, I wasn’t scared since I was too excited to begin my adventure and do something different. But I was scared, because I was leaving everything familiar behind -my friends, my family, my home- in favor of a completely new life.

When it finally came time to move in, my mother drove me. I’ll never forget leaving my house, knowing it would no longer fully be my home. It was so difficult to know I would be going so far away but I was also excited to begin my new adventure. After eight hours of driving, we arrived at my dorm and I met my roommates. We unpacked and I said goodbye to my mom. That was really the hardest part. My mom was always there for me as a kid and knowing she would be so far away was terrifying.

After six months of being on my own, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. My roommates are my best friends; I spend all my time with them. I’m incredibly lucky since I’ve never heard of anyone getting along so well with his or her roommates. Living in the city is amazing. I get to experience something new everyday. My favorite thing about the city is that I can walk out my door and be anywhere in a matter of minutes. I can explore multiple neighborhoods in one day, each with their own distinct personality. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and remember that I live here, in the greatest city in the world, and I get excited all over again. Moving to New York was the greatest decision I ever made. Moving away from everything familiar to me was scary but it made me braver, more mature, and I’m proud that I had the courage to follow my dreams.

Sitting down to talk to Paulina Librizzi, I had no idea that learning about her family would be like listening to a version of The Godfather. Coming from a family who knows very little about their origins, it was incredible to meet someone who not only knows her family’s history, but also has a thirteen-page document about it. The document is complete with pictures of the members of her father’s side of the family and the official documentation of the family’s immigration from Italy to America in the early 1900’s. Since I’ve always only had a vague idea of where my family comes from, I was truly blown away by how interesting and detailed her family’s story is.

The story begins with Paulina’s great grandfather, Santo, arriving in America on February 6^th, 1904. He had left Naples on January 20^th, aboard the ship The Liguria, with only ten dollars to his name. He was twenty-three years old at the time of his arrival and was most likely traveling with a man named Giuseppe Brucato, who was a relative of Santos. Conditions weren’t very good in Italy at the time, so they had left for America in search of a better life. The records show that they were headed to stay with a man named Rosario, who could have either been Santo’s brother or cousin, who was living around Little Italy.

Two years after Santo arrived, Lucia, Paulina’s great grandmother, arrived in New York. She was only fourteen years old and described as being 5’3” with a “rosy complexion and chestnut hair.” She was traveling with her father, who was forty-nine, and her brother, Damiano, who was twelve years old at the time of their arrival. According to the records, they arrived on Ellis Island on April 18^th, 1906, aboard the Nord America. Lucia came to America to wed Santo. Lucia and Santo may have been slightly related, which was more common back then, and that’s why she came all the way from Italy to marry him.

On May 3^rd, 1906, more Librizzis and Brocatos arrived in America from Petralia, a town in Sicily. They were all headed to 3 Mulberry Street in Little Italy to stay with their cousin and nephew, Santo. Since so many people were headed to one address, they were asked by customs if they were polygamists and anarchists. It must have been a very crowded house.

Now here is where the story gets interesting. Family legend has it that Santo and his family had to flee back to Italy in order to escape The Black Hand, an Italian Mafia in New York. The Black Hand was an extension of the mafia in Serbia that had helped in the assassination of Franz Ferdinand, the assassination that started World War II. They were an infamous group in Europe and in the States. They would often send letters to their victims demanding money and threatening their lives. According to the family story, Santo received letters threatening to murder his sons, Victor and Leonard (Paulina’s grandfather), if they didn’t pay the price that the mafia demanded. Instead of paying up, Santo and his family fled back to the safety of Italy.

Santo returned to America on November 7^th 1910 as a thirty year old man. He was traveling alone; leaving his wife and sons, now three years old and one year old, safely back in Petralia. Shortly after this, on May 11^th, 1912, the records again show Santo arriving in New York from Petralia. He must have been traveling back and forth in order to make sure it was safe enough for his family to move back to New York.

Six months after Santo’s return to America, Lucia and the boys came to meet him in New York. They had traveled second class on the Duca D’Aosta, a ship from Southern Italy. Lucia had listed her father, Leonardo, as her closest relative in New York, but stated that she was headed to Rockaway to stay with her husband. Afterwards, the family settled in Queens where they remain to this day. Leonardo, Paulina’s great grandfather and Santo’s son, is still alive and always tells the story of how his father escaped the mafia and saved their lives.

Paulina actually traveled to Italy just a few years ago in order to meet her family still living there. It was the first time she had a chance to meet many her many cousins. Her cousin, Pietros, is studying abroad in London this year. Pietros has two sisters who are ten and twelve, and adored Paulina when they met her. Pietros’ great grandfather is Damiano, Lucia’s brother who came to America when he was only twelve years old. Maybe it was the threat of The Black Hand that drove him back to Italy. Maybe he just missed home.

It’s incredible to think about Santos life and all that he went through to start a new life for himself in a completely different world than what he was used to. He must have been terrified when the mafia tried to take that away from him when they threatened his family. However, Santos bravery and resilience made it possible for the family to continue on with their life in America, all while keeping his story and culture alive in his children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.

Paulina doesn’t know much about her mother’s side of her family. Her grandparents on her mother’s side also emigrated from Italy, but instead of holding onto their culture and their story, they became more Americanized in order to fit in. Her grandfather quickly learned English and traded pasta for meat and potatoes. He didn’t tell his children about his life before America.

How regrettable it is to think about all the other immigrants who chose to stay silent and ignore their native culture in favor of a more American version of themselves. In doing so, they lost a part of themselves, an important story that should have been passed down to each generation. All humans feel the need to know where we came from and how we got here, and the only way to truly do that is to tell people your story, especially if it involves the Italian mafia.