Good Morning, Close of August

Thoughts from the month, a plea for positive change.

Hello everyone. I hope your week is going well. This morning I woke up with a dull heaviness, tired eyes, a body reduced to breathing and moving. You know the feeling, when you feel both like a sponge, full of all the weight of everything, and also like an empty vessel - silent, slow, and out of touch with magic. The Close of August is a strange time of reflection and preparation, caught between the celebratory nature of summer and the first hints of autumnal splendor - neither here nor there, an intermediate state, remembering the past and getting ready for the future. I suppose every day can be this way, no matter the time of year, but something about this end of August time is often different somehow. A strange lull of energy paired with a frantic anticipation. It creates a discord within the body, something else to navigate while navigating everything else.

“It is not upon you alone the dark patches fall,

The dark threw its patches down upon me also.”

-Walt Whitman, Crossing Brooklyn Ferry

As you have come to know about me, I am an optimist, and I hold strong onto hope. My faith and belief are fully intact, and I trust that things will always be okay. Hope is not merely a verb of action, but an ever changing state of mind that can be transformed and reimagined with circumstance. We may hope for one outcome, and if that chosen outcome doesn’t happen, while we may grieve and feel an onslaught of new emotions, we can bring in hope afresh as it arises from within and is redirected towards the next step forward. Even if I am feeling sadness or heaviness, hope is always there underneath, offering a cup of hot tea and a blanket, and then waiting at the door with my boots for when I’m ready to go outside again.

Today I want to ask you about how you are feeling. Is there anything looming on your mind? Anything big that you are facing/tackling? A great discomfort, an injustice? How is your Close of August mind? One of the most time sensitive and looming items on the plate right now is that of our local Elizabeth Street Garden. As you know, we’ve been working tirelessly around the clock each day in a full time effort to fight for its safety. We are in this 11th hour now, with the eviction date of September 10. That date feels so close, but I break the time down into individual weeks, and then individual days, individual hours, individual moments, individual opportunities to do something, to say something, to be active, and most important of all, to keep hope intact, alive, and thriving.

I woke up very early today, when the city was mostly still asleep, when all was still and quiet. It was nice to see the Hudson River shining under the morning sun. While walking back home, the city began to bustle with its activity, and I found myself thinking about this fight we’ve been in, and all that it represents. It’s an issue much bigger than it seems, bigger than all of us. It’s a question of future. It’s a question of what we value and of the future of our cities.

As co-founder/director of a climate action organization and a climate worker since I was 15, we work to help cities develop and implement strong climate action plans to transition to 100% renewable energy as soon as possible. Seeing the strides made in cities around the world, I feel a sense of disappointment that the city I live in is not taking a stronger lead in the climate movement, to take responsibility for its carbon spending, transitioning away from fossil fuels and reworking everything to set standards and examples for other flagship cities of the world. As part of this, the mayor should be defending, protecting, and closely studying our successful and beloved green spaces, working on a longterm plan which includes both preserving the ones we already have and adding much more of them to our neighborhoods.

As someone who has lived mostly in NYC since 1996, I have watched it change in drastic ways over nearly 30 years, and I am continuously questioning whether these changes are positive or needed. We continue to lose the things we love - the places, shops, and people. The value system feels increasingly more out of sorts, the things the city honors and puts first, the voices and opinions of which the local government chooses to listen. Where is the integrity? We raise the rent continuously so only super wealthy companies can exist here, people living paycheck to paycheck, cutting corners where corners shouldn’t be considered. It feels like there are secrets everywhere. Storefronts on famous streets that remain vacant for months and even years because no one can afford to rent them. The landlords seem unaffected and the city officials don’t seem to care about systematically deleting all the charm and unique qualities of the city. Classic shops and restaurants getting replaced by franchises and chains. Litter on the streets. Banks on every corner. What is this value system, what are the priorities, who and what is being prioritized, and why is an island of nearly 2 million people forced to go along with it all? What will New York City look like in 10 years if we stay on this trajectory? Who will want to be here? If you tear out everything that made it special, delete any evidence of history and culture, what is left?

I’ve been broken hearted by cities many times. I’ll share a personal example. As a teenager, I loved the South Street Seaport. It was my favorite neighborhood, and I took the train there by myself as often as I could. Being there I felt transported to another time, relaxed, at home. I loved visiting the tall ships - Wavertree, Ambrose, The Pioneer, and the W.O. Decker tugboat. Walking the cobble stone road, passing the early 19th century houses, the landmark buildings, the old mercantile buildings. There was a small stand-alone structure by the water where a man built and sold model ships. I loved visiting the Seaport Museum and most of all I loved Bowne & Co. Stationers on Water street, the letterpress printshop that captured my heart and led me to work in a bookbindery. I would bring my notebook or something to read, walk the pier, listen to the water and crickets, watching the boats along the float, sailboats and other boats in the distance. It was perfect in every way.

The South Street Seaport is still there, most of these places still do exist, and for this I am so grateful, but it’s all very much changed. With the over development of too many new restaurants and shops, outdoor seating and bars, and the huge mall/venue structure that juts out into the water with its undulating LED lights, obscuring the view of the historic ships, and shifting the energy of the place as a whole. Taking over. It was as though South Street Seaport was a secret haven for those who appreciated it, and suddenly was discovered by developers and business people as prime real estate - open season - something to bank on, to take advantage of, as though it was empty before and just waiting to be turned into something good.

Why do developers, mayors, city officials, and business people think that these places are available for them to do what they want? Why do they look at neighborhoods, streets, homes, and spaces like Elizabeth Street Garden and see them as opportunities when they are already in use, already something really great? It just blows my mind, the greed and selfishness required to do something like that. This is really a bit strange, but when I was walking home this morning from the river, I tried to think of an analogy for it all, and I pictured a man who was enamored with a woman who was already married to the man she loves, a wonderful man who also loves her dearly. Even though this couple is in a loving and joyful partnership, this other man arrives, and against the will of the woman, she is forced to marry this new person, even though he doesn’t actually know her, doesn’t appreciate her, and she and everyone in her life is pleading for him to leave her alone, even with offers of compromise - of friendship and helping him to find a suitable mate. With every force of strength and power she tries to fight against this stranger, but he is relentless and convinced that he has to be with her, and that nobody else will do. It’s a little bit of a silly comparison, but that’s how ridiculous these situations feel.

In the case of the Elizabeth Street Garden, it’s a full scale act of unfathomable selfishness on the part of the mayor and the developers. The garden is already in use, already a place that people love, enjoy, and consider their home. The city is trying to evict the garden so they can destroy what was lovingly created through decades of hard work. The plan is to destroy the garden to build affordable housing for seniors. Now, of course affordable housing is incredibly important, but there are plenty of other places to build, and these locations have been identified already. There are so many other places to build this structure, and even in the same neighborhood, and these are spaces that are not in use already - empty lots, vacant places, prime real estate for developers. Why on earth do we need to choose an incredibly unique, highly active community green space utilized by thousands of people instead? Affordable housing for seniors and green spaces should not ever be pinned against each other. It is not right - there is a need for both, and there is plenty of space on this island to have everything we need.

The mayor has no idea how many people would be displaced if the garden was destroyed. The garden is a place that an incalculable number of people call home. It might not be where they live and sleep, but it is their safe haven, their community, the place where they have found belonging. This is for locals, neighbors, and New Yorkers, and also for people from around the state, the country, and around the world. Countless people visit the garden as a destination from all over the globe, a touchstone when revisiting New York City. It is a landing place, a welcome committee, a perfect tourist destination, offering a unique oasis and a place to find camaraderie. A place to rest and restore in nature, or to be active and engaged through a full calendar of free community programming. Regularly scheduled music and poetry, movie nights, tai chi, yoga, tea ceremonies, planting and gardening days, education for kids and adults, celebrations, annual gatherings, it goes on and on. There is something there for everyone, and it’s all a labor of love, run and maintained by volunteers, by the community. It is a gift to New York City.

I would love for the mayor, elected officials, and everyone in charge of this decision to spend time at the garden - real time. To rest there on their own, to attend events, to feel the energy of the community and crowd, to speak face to face, human to human, soul to soul, with the people who cherish this place. I would love for them all to attend a concert where everyone is singing together, watch a movie where everyone laughs and gasps in unison, to feel the collective consciousness and restorative power of sharing experiences under the protective canopy of nature.

This is all to say what we all feel - a concern about the direction of our world, of our collective value systems, of the things that take precedence. Raising the rents to astronomical prices so nobody can afford to rent apartments, and bulldozing community green spaces to build affordable housing. Creating problems that shouldn’t exist and solving them in unjust ways. What a mess, what a rough cycle.

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The view of the city on the East River side, where the three bridges lay side by side connecting the boroughs- Brooklyn Bridge, Manhattan Bridge, Williamsburg Bridge, has always been one of the most majestic views I had ever seen, something I never could tire of. Seeing the tall ships of the South Street Seaport, the busy and organized water traffic of all the passing ships and boats, the skyline as the backdrop with the Empire State Building as its crown jewel. Driving down the FDR drive in a car, riding a bike along the greenway, walking along the path, any way to see it was just so special, and the Brooklyn Bridge was just always something to marvel at. Imagining anyone in history watching this view just as you, like Walt Whitman’s words in Crossing Brooklyn Ferry, ‘what is it then between us? What is the count of the scores or hundreds of years between us? Whatever it is, it avails not—distance avails not, and place avails not,’ I always felt this feeling, that no matter the changes that occur with progress, there are sacred and untouchable spots forever protected by the city. Central Park, our gardens and spaces, the museums, the bridges, our skyline. But it isn’t fully true, or so it hasn’t been fully true these days. Do you know the shiny luxury residential skyscraper which now obstructs the majestic view of our bridges? The tall blocky one on the Manhattan side that the sun reflects off of? When that building went up, maybe 6 years ago, I was angry and heartbroken, and I remember thinking of the immense selfishness it would require to completely alter the skyline of our river, the view of our majestic and historic bridges, looked upon with awe for more than a century. The Brooklyn Bridge was opened in 1883. The Williamsburg Bridge completed in 1903, the Manhattan Bridge in 1909. 140 years of beautiful and unobstructed views now being fought against by yet another building that we most likely and most probably did not really need. I’m certainly no urban planner or real estate expert but did we really need that building?

What do we really need? We need to take care of ourselves and each other. We need to take care of our communities, our citizens, and our planet. All of these elements are suffering and moving towards a possible future that includes more suffering. Where is our value system? Our poor world is enduring so many problems, and there are so many endless fights and battles on varied scales. Global fights, national fights, local community fights. It’s rough, and it feels scary when it promises to get rougher. What kind of world are we borrowing from our children? What sort of places are we leaving for them in our legacies? I don’t mean to be so intense this morning, but these things are just so prominent these days, and I find myself, as we all do, navigating between different mindsets: immense gratitude/excitement and immense disappointment/concern. I’m sure you feel similarly, if not the same in every way.

The only choice we have is to keep going - to keep working to sustain and create the cities and towns we want to live in, to keep helping each other, and to keep taking care of ourselves. As my mom always says, we have to do our work. We have to use our mediums and our skills, to live in our own purpose and for these important causes, which often go hand in hand. We need to do the things we were put on this Earth to do. And we can write letters to our mayors, organize with our communities, speak out for what we believe in, use our voices. We have to write, play music, write poems and stories and songs, articles and essays and op-eds. Plays, movies, books, anything and everything. Have conversations. Speak kindly to ourselves. We have to make everything from our time together and fully cherish our time while we are here, able, energized, awake, alive.

Let’s make a pledge together today and let’s help each other out. Let’s put out all the positive and powerful energy we have, to push for the things we want to see in the world. Let’s bring all of our powerful energy and exuberant optimism, our compassionate action, our hope. Please write in the comments anything you want to see in the world. It can be anything - something global, national, local, personal. Anything at all. Something you want for our globe, our society, for our environment, our planet, for your own local community, for your family, for your self, anything. Let’s all bring our energy together for a positive and beautiful future, for the world that we want to live in. Let’s imagine it together and help put forth the energy needed to create and sustain it.

I make a pledge now to continue to do all I can.

I make a pledge to keep my hope intact, to keep my voice steady and powerful.

I make a pledge to help others when they are feeling lost.

I make a pledge to ask for help when I am feeling lost.

I make a pledge to take care of myself when I am burnt out and needing to restore.

I make a pledge to do the best I can without judgement.

Thank you everyone for reading. Please share anything and everything you would like to in the comments. I look forward so much to reading anything you would like to share, and as always I am sending you all the best energy I can muster. Thank you for everything. This community means so much to me and I am so grateful for you all.

Have a wonderful day - sending you Resiliency, Belonging, and Hope.

Here is Crossing Brooklyn Ferry to read, inspire, comfort, and imagine. <3