"WHERE YOU COME FROM CAN INSPIRE WHO YOU BECOME."

 Empty stoops, over-priced real estate and the flood of outsiders replaces my hometown once filled with crowded street corners, bootleggers, loud music and children at play. Vivid memories of lying in bed surrounded by darkness, seeing the light shows of passing sirens and sounds humming helicopters. A neighborhood watchwoman leaning out of her first-floor Brownstone window, screaming warnings. "Drive by" she'd yell with a perfect view of the tinted car awaiting to cross the streetlight. Leaving only seconds, between innocent bystanders from exploding bullets ringing through our block. Embracing a neighborhood girl of poverty, her mother a victim of the crack epidemic and a sibling to nine. We lied face down on the cold concrete, age eight longing to survive another day. Decades years later, that feeling of being petrified still haunts me. 

They say it takes a village to raise a child, so neighbors became family. Despite the darkness light seeped through moments of block parties, barbecues, and gatherings.  Sidewalks full of double Dutch and freeze tag. Blocks and stoops filled with families, laughter, head nods and daps.

Today we welcome coffee shops, city bike lanes, and the influx of police. Here to ensure their new newcomers are safe from the toxins of a once dying community. Staring off at the street corners once filled with lurkers, stoops filled with families and friends, gone. Memories and stories you'd just had to see to believe.

I stand in front of the stoop that once belonged to my ancestors. I close my eyes, envisioning the survivors and lost ones along the way. I can hear the vibrant block chatter of the past. I wouldn't want to call any other place home.

We all have stories, some a bit nicer than others. No one has lived your life but you. Whatever your hometown was like, think of the experiences molding us into who we are today.

I will never forget where I come from. So next time you wonder why I walk and talk like that, I’m from The Stuy that’s why.

-K.A.O

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