I was a sophomore at NYU. My daily morning routine was to turn on NY1 to be informed about any train delays I should know about, the weather, and basic current events. I was living in Williamsburg, Brooklyn with my mother and she was sleeping. I stepped out of the apartment, rushing to catch the L train into Manhattan. I was going to be late for my Race and Ethnicity class. On TV, I saw footage of the first plane in the North Tower of the World Trade Center but the reality didn’t connect at first. I dismissed this footage as the 90s footage of a bomb at the bottom of the World Trade Center. I thought nothing of this. Continue reading “Remembering 9/11”
The last time I mentioned the MFA, I had accepted admission to Mills College. Well…almost a month later, USF called me to tell me I was accepted! I mean, how did that even happen to me? Even now, I can’t believe I was accepted to the only two schools I applied to. Imagine if I had applied to other schools across the country? But I wasn’t about moving again, so I was happy with my decision. Continue reading “My future writing life”
Our conversation turned to more mundane things like what was happening in my life, love life, and miscellaneous topics you talk about with your parents.
Then I asked what I didn’t think I’d have the strength or energy to ask.
“When is she being buried?”
“On Monday morning,” he said. “Are you going to be there?”
I was going to tell him, “I’ll try to make it,” but realized if I wanted to heal, maybe this would help me get closer to getting closure with her.
I paused. “Yes.”
“You sure you’re okay to handle it?” he said, his gently eyes probing mine.
“Yeah, Dad, I’ll be fine.”
That settled it and we said our pleasantries. I told him I’d be exploring more of the city on Sunday and that I’d meet him at the cemetery on Monday morning.
He got up to leave but I stayed in the same place. Continue reading “The Southside Strories – Chapter 6”
When I look at my wristwatch, I noticed that time had flown. I was going to be late. I hopped on the closest subway to go to Williamsburg. Oh, Williamsburg, Brooklyn – how I miss you but am glad that I live away from you. As the saying goes, distance really does make the heart grow fonder.
I stepped off the Lorimer stop on the L train and walked on Union Avenue to the other side of the Brooklyn Queens Expressway (we just call it the BQE). In the Southside, there are two sides because the BQE divides them. For a long time I lived on the Northside of the BQE but then moved to the less gentrified version (at the time, in the nineties) of the Southside. Continue reading “The Southside Stories – Chapter 5”
When I was in junior high school, as most kids in my neighborhood, my summers were spent on the stoop. I had friends and cousins I hung out with. We played Uno, I Declare War, Gin Rummy (even though we knew it as Three and Two), Spit, and people watched.
While other kids went to Puerto Rico or Dominican Republic for the whole summer, I was outside on the steps of my stoop. Continue reading “The Southside Stories – Chapter 3”
As promised, I have provided the first chapter of my attempt at writing about my native Williamsburg, Brooklyn neighborhood. Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.
I can’t believe I’m back here. Los Sures in Brooklyn. I swore I’d never come back here unless I needed to. Well, here I am. Attending Mom’s funeral. I can’t believe she’s gone. I don’t even remember the last time I saw her. Continue reading “The Southside Stories – Chapter 1”