Things Change

Music changes, fashion changes, technology changes and, yes, even neighborhoods change. As soon as some realtor got the bright idea that you could attach a big price-tag to the convenience of our proximity to Manhattan and "the neighborhood" was christened Carroll Gardens, things have been changing. Change may be hard, but is certainly inevitable.

When I was growing up on DeGraw Street in Carroll Gardens in the sixties and seventies, the neighborhood was predominantly working-class and although there were Puerto Ricans, Filipinos, Spanish, Portuguese and even one family of Roma Gypsies, the vast majority of people were Italian-American. My grammar school class at Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary was probably 90% Italian-American. I joke that I didn't have any Irish friends until I went to high school in Downtown Brooklyn and discovered that many of these Irish girls lived just a few blocks away. I had relatives all over the place. My grandparents were around the corner and I had aunts, uncles, and cousins on Clinton Street, Strong Place, Henry Street, Union Street, every street. There was a butcher or a bread store around almost every corner. In fact, when I was very little, there were three bread stores on Union Street alone, between Hicks and Columbia! We didn't go to expensive summer camps back then. We played on the block or we went to Coney Island. Everybody knew each other and your neighbors were an extension of your family.

However, things weren't perfect even then. There was widespread drug use and the crime that accompanies it. Carroll Park was not the safest place to be after dark. There were shakedowns of legitimate businesses. There was lots of graffiti and often stolen cars and vandalism. My sisters were in the first nail salon that opened in the neighborhood on Smith Street when armed robbers broke in. And, prior to the pooper scooper laws, there was plenty of "droppings." People would walk their dogs everywhere, even in front of Cabrini Chapel, which was right across the street from my house.

Of course, I long for the good things we don't have anymore. I cried when College Bakery closed, much to the confusion (and slight embarrassment) of my sons. I was away on vacation when Latticini Barese, an Italian specialty shop, on Union Street closed and my mom broke the news to me as if there was a death in the family. I miss Frank's Department Store and all of the butchers that lined Henry and Court Streets, especially now with the imminent closing of Good Food. My beloved Cabrini Chapel now houses luxury apartments. And it makes me sad to think that I will never again bite into a freshly fried riceball from Joe's Superette.

I remember these locales fondly and often get nostalgic for this neighborhood's past, but it's not healthy to spend all my time lamenting about how things used to be. While I hold onto my traditions the best I can, there is some change that I embrace. I welcome the diversity and most of the new businesses that have popped up in the neighborhood. They are not responsible for the demise of the old businesses. Of course, I love many of the new restaurants: Luna Rossa, Buttermilk Channel, Maybelle's, Enoteca, Seersucker, Calexico, and Brooklyn Southern, among others. We recently had a delicious dinner at Avlee, the new Greek place located where Joe's used to be. The pizza at Lucali's is superb and while the business is relatively new, the proprietor is a Carroll Gardens native. When it comes to local businesses, I like the convenience of Cobble Hill Variety & Mailing Center, the friendliness of Classic Impressions, and the selection at Glow.

Lately, I've been noticing the extreme acrimony in the comments posted on the Carroll Gardens Patch. Now I know we are all entitled to our opinions, as divergent as they may be, but my innocuous blog last month about the return of Sunday dinner led to an out and out (verbal) brawl about territorial appreciation of an old-fashioned Italian Sunday dinner. It was nasty but more so disheartening. 

We hear again and again that the newcomers are not so friendly, but there are some old-timers that are not so friendly either. When my Chinese-American husband had to obtain proof that he was registered at our parish, the now deceased Italian priest asked him twice if he was sure he was Catholic. Not only was he Catholic but we were married in that church, our kids were baptized there, and we attended Mass regularly. Did that priest think that only Caucasians of Italian descent could be Catholic?

When we moved a mere five blocks to our current home, I immediately felt a little homesick and thought that some of my new neighbors weren't as friendly as my old neighbors on Carroll Street. I had to put in a little effort; I kept nodding hello to the same man on my corner. Sometimes he would give a slight nod and sometimes nothing. I still wanted my kids to see that I was trying to be friendly and polite.  

I went to a wake for a dear elderly neighbor a couple of years ago. I told his daughter that I really loved her dad. She responded that her dad really loved the "new people."  New people!!?? I told her that I had lived in Carroll Gardens my whole life and had lived on the same block as her dad for 14 years. Why did I feel miffed and compelled to clarify that I was indeed an old-timer? What was the difference?

What I know is that presuming things about individuals can sometimes be wrong, no matter how innocent one's intentions, but that categorizing whole groups of people can be very, very wrong.

I still love living in Carroll Gardens and I am grateful that I have been able to stay here for my entire life. I worry about those who love it as much as I do and may not have the security of being able to live here forever, like our neighborhood champion, Celia Cacace. I keep my fingers crossed that my beloved neighborhood doesn't totally change and I pray that Court Pastry stays in business for the rest of my days. Whether you arrived in Carroll Gardens by way of the Bronx, like my husband, via Louisiana, like my sweet, friendly neighbor, Priscilla, or directly from Long Island College Hospital, we are all neighbors now. I think, collectively, we value much of the same things: low crime, good schools, great food, and convenience. We can all probably afford to be a little more courteous, a little more tolerant and accepting of others, so that Carroll Gardens, even amidst change, can retain its own time-honored neighborhood character, one that remains quintessentially Brooklyn, through and through.