Before I moved here, I thought of Brooklyn as Brooklyn. It was one place, one thing. To my uninitiated mind, Brooklyn itself had character and an identity as a whole. It’s not that I was wrong, the Mother Borough does have an overarching identity and character … but it’s defined by the unique nature of its neighborhoods.
Brooklyn is comprised of so many distinct areas each with their own qualities that to live here and call oneself a Brooklynite is a bit like calling oneself an American. Sure, it’s true, but how much do urban New Yorkers and rural Kansans really have in common, besides that overarching American moniker? It’s the same with Brooklyn.
People from Flatbush are not people from Brooklyn Heights. Those from the Slope aren’t those from Bensonhurst. Some nabes in proximity have more in common with each other than with certain other ‘hoods, but even the like areas have their differences: the brownstones of Bed-Stuy versus the huge apartment buildings and pre-war opulence of Crown Heights, for example.
When I lived in the Stuy, the girlfriend I was living with would tell me that her students thought we were hardcore for living there. She taught in Crown Heights, and those kids thought Bed-Stuy was the baddest place on Earth. They weren’t far off; gunshots nearly every night, drug dealers doing their business in broad daylight right there in your face. Ineffectual cops letting the crimes that weren’t murder go on because they had their hands full with more major felonies. But Crown Heights ain’t no walk in the park neither, son. Still, those kids thought their hood was tame compared to the Do Or Die.
That most recent bid in Bed-Stuy was my second tour, and I was deep in it. The first time around, I was dangling on the fringe, in the DMZ between Clinton Hill and Bedford-Stuyvestant proper. That DMZ was pretty tame, even with the Evergreen project Houses diagonally across the street. I got more grief in Prospect Heights, where gentrification was often met with violent opposition. I consider myself lucky I only got punched in the head instead of shot like some of the other invading honky forces.
I know I’ve used this before but, like Johnny Cash said, I’ve been everywhere, man. 4th Avenue at Pacific Street, “Clinton Hill”, Prospect Heights, Park Slope, Gowanus, Bed-Stuy and Flatbush. I spent a little while without a home, and I passed it sleeping on my friends’ couch in Windsor Terrace. I almost moved to Borough Park, but the realtor didn’t like the idea of inter-racial dating. I put a deposit down on a shithole in Sunset Park, but wound up bailing on that bad idea. I’ve been to almost every nabe except Starett City, and I can’t think of any other place than Brooklyn that varies so greatly within an area of about 80 some-odd square miles.
I identify with Flatbush. I don’t feel like as much of an intruder here as I did in Bed-Stuy, but I’ve definitely enjoyed living on the fringe. I’ve been far from the spoiled, trust-funded white brats that pollute Park Slope and Williamsburg, and I’ve been happy for it. My neighborhood is genuine, full of people who work hard and appreciate others who do the same. Sure, there’s not much in the way of nightlife, there’s no fancy cafe with pretentiously named beverages, but there’s also nothing keeping me from sleeping with my window open at night … except chihuahua-sized wasps, of course.
I’ve been in too many places to feel much of a bond with a particular neighborhood. I’ve been alien almost everywhere I’ve lived in this borough, either from being white in a black neighborhood, or being the wrong kind of white in a white ‘hood. As big and as varied as this place is, a niche is not something I’ve yet carved out.
But, more so than someone who’s only lived in one of its neighborhoods, I’m a Brooklynite. I may yet identify with Flatbush more than the whole, but not at the moment. In six years I’ve been too many places to have taken root in any of them. The only permanent place I’ve occupied is the borough herself. So while Brooklynite is more vague than Flatbusher, it’s more specific than American and more significant than just being a New Yorker. As far as I’m concerned, Brooklyn is my country, state and city all in one. I only go to Manhattan to get paid.