Filed under: 11222, Culture War, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, The Word On The Street
It would appear these missives have finally made their way to this side of the East River. Not a minute too soon, I will add…
Filed under: 10013, Chinatown, Chinatown Manhattan, Culture War, Fuck This Shit, Wow
Because, as we all know, making light of the homeless situation on New York City (without actually being forced to witness it firsthand) is what tourists want to experience…
Filed under: 11205, Clinton Hill, Clinton Hill Brooklyn, Culture War, Gentrification
Remember folks: NO SKI MASKS!
(Taken by Michael.)
Filed under: 11211, Culture War, East Williamsburg, East Williamsburg Brooklyn, Street Art, The Word On The Street
Taken October 15, 2014.
Filed under: 11231, Carroll Gardens, Carroll Gardens Brooklyn, Culture War, The Word On The Street
Taken September 3, 2014.
Filed under: Culture War, Midtown, Midtown Manhattan, New York City, The Word On The Street
From Grand Central Station.
Filed under: 11211, 11249, Culture War, Stuff The Makes Heather Sad, Williamsburg, Williamsburg Brooklyn
Today I had the pleasure of showing a buddy of mine, Lisanne, around northern Brooklandia. She’s been quite busy of late kicking ass in her community (“Gowanus”); was kind enough to take me on a tour of her community and I wanted to return the favor. I felt perhaps a walk around Williamsburg would be an interesting juxtaposition to what her community faces. Above all, I wanted to show her what I consider to be one of the supreme grotesques when to comes to developer/community organization “partnerships”. I speak of none other than the Southside
I have yet to articulate in words how much this thing enrages me. Maybe I’ll get it right this time. I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.
To preface, a little information about myself:
- I am not of Native American descent. I am not a spokesperson for the Native American community. However…
- my forbears (on my mother’s side) came from Texas. Well, if you want to get “picky” they lived in Texas before Texas was “Texas”. They were European immigrants and they immigrated to Mexico.
- They were not “wealthy” people. They lived alongside and in (relative*) harmony with Native Americans and Latinos (NOTE: I am reticent to use the term ‘Mexicans” because back in the day my forebears would also qualify as such. See point #2).
- When one is living on the “frontier”, “poor” and as such bereft the amenities we have in this modern age he/she does not have the luxury of being racist— and I assure you racism is a “luxury”. Instead, you pulled together as many collective resources as you could as a community. My grandmother and great aunt had (as they put it) a “Comanche woman” (“political correctness” as we know it was/is a mite bit too much to ask from two women born in 1909 and 1911 respectively) from a neighboring plot of land/”ranch” as a babysitter on occasion. They had fond memories of her.
- When there was a “feud”, as great aunt put it, between this “Comanche” family and another family (non-native American, I recall) they sided with the Comanches. Like I said: racism is a luxury.
I am not Native American. However— and in large part due to my grandmother and her sister— I have been exposed Native Amercian history and culture since pretty much day one. And that’s why this
teepee tipi pisses me off so goddamn much.
After I took this photo a 20-something fellow, the “fire setter”, clad in overalls, bandanna and a straw hat approached me.
Are you Miss Heather of New York Shitty?
I answered to the affirmative. He responded as follows:
I’m Ryan, I used to work for GWAPP. We’ve met before.
Instead of tendering my condolences (I am capable of restraint when I want to be) I asked:
What are you doing?
We’re going to have a barbecue.
He replied and added:
We’re using wood because lighter fluid is bad!
“Oh I know” I replied and added:
Please tell that to my neighbors.** They just LOVE lighter fluid. They can’t barbecue for shit. They’d be excellent arsonists if they wanted to be.
Laughter, albeit of the uncomfortable/awkward variety, followed. “Ryan” went about his business and we went in.
Upon seeing this pair of New Balance sneakers outside the “tipi” my companion and I burst into fits of cynical laughter. She noted “NBs” are the footwear of choice among “progressives”.
No shoes are allowed in the tipi.
But apparently the “tipi” has an open door policy for smart phones.
I do not recall Native Americans having iphones. Hell, I do not recall reading— ANYWHERE— about the Native Americans who once called this land their home having
teepees tipis. This is because they didn’t. Teepees were used by nomadic tribes— generally on the great plains. Teepees were made of buffalo hide. Brooklyn did not have “nomadic tribes” (or buffalo for that matter). There was no need to travel long distances: everything they needed was here.
My travelling companion, Lisanne, put it (more or less— paraphrasing here) very well:
Don’t they see the irony of having a teepee in a neighborhood where a lot of residents (many of whom are Latino and probably “Mestizo”— Ed. Note.) are being forced out?
No they don’t— and that is the problem.
Straight up: If you are going to appropriate Native American culture (which you probably shouldn’t do in the first place), at least make it contextually/historically relevant. New York City is not lacking in Native American history. So why I ask, once again, do we have this teepee? I am guessing it is a “nod” to Native American culture.
The problem with this teepee is— however well intended it may be— is the wrong Native American culture. By erecting this you are doing our predecessors here— and probably giving youths the notion that teepees did in fact exist here— a serious disservice. In fact I’d go so far to say one poorly placed teepee in Williamsburg is actually worse than no acknowledgement of Native American presence at all. Wrong information is worse than no information.
This could have, should have been an opportunity to educate people— newcomers and old timers, young and old— about the Native Americans who once lived here. Instead we have a hang-out wherein one can peruse one’s iphone. No lighter fluid, New Balances or Nikes allowed.
Rather sad, yes?
*For example, one time my grandmother and great aunt’s mother placed pies on a window sill to cool. The “Indians” stole them. My great aunt found her mother’s tristesse quite hilarious.
**Who also, thankfully rarely, host drum circles.
Filed under: 11211, 11222, Culture War, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, The Natives Are Getting Restless, The Word On The Street, Williamsburg, Williamsburg Brooklyn
North 10 Street, 11211
Dobbin Street, 11222
Taken August 30, 2014.
Filed under: 11237, Bushwick, Bushwick Brooklyn, Class War, Culture War, The Natives Are Getting Restless, The Word On The Street
It is fascinating (to me anyway— and not in a good way) when I see sentiments on a sidewalk which echo a snow globe I made not terribly long ago.
Of course now that Greenpoint and Williamsburg have become prohibitively expensive folks have to move somewhere. And with them come selective enforcement…
Filed under: 10003, Culture War, East Village, East Village Manhattan, Street Justice
Although located in the East Village, I am certain plenty of folks on this side of the East River (especially those who reside in Williamsburg and along Franklin Street) can relate to what is being attempted here: a cordon sanitaire so folks who reside in the adjacent building do not have ingress and egress precluded by patrons of the establishment next door.
Sadly, it appears to be about as effective as its namesake.
Update, June 29th: I stand corrected! A fellow named Robert writes:
Your posts are usually on the money. This post:Is totally wrong, sadly; It’s not a resident line, or anything; Abraço opened up a little 2nd market store, roughly 6 doors down: the pink line is in fact a number of arrows leading their customers down the street.(I was there yesterday)