Hawthorne 1 Ceyron Hawthorne Professor Chessman Pre-College Writing 29 July 2013 Journey Down Memory Lane I glance out

of my window to the right at the glistening Hudson River, feeling the rumble of the adjacent cars speeding past us on the Brooklyn Bridge. I look backwards at Manhattan, observing the skyline that was now void of the twin towers of the old World Trade Center. As I turn back around to look at the land which we were approaching, I wonder, How much could have changed since I left? I am on a quest to rediscover the New York that had I had been removed from for 7 years. Whether this quest begins at the Holland Tunnel taking me into New York, the Manhattan Bridge on which I would ride most mornings, my grandmothers apartment in the Upper West Side, my old elementary school, or even the MTA, I do not know. For me, New York never had any linearity. Each of the individual places I went while living here stood alone, disconnected from anywhere else. Perhaps this was due to the relative insignificance of the space in between my destinations. My perception of New York was centered on the collection of all of the places that had ever held any unique meaning in my life. In reflecting on my experiences in the city, a memory from any one of these places is likely to arise. So I guess it follows then that anyone of these places could be the start of this journey, but what I am sure of is that this quest leads me a singular end, my old block of St. Marks Avenue in Brooklyn. The St. Marks Avenue that I lived on was a small residential street filled with short Brownstones and a small school with a little park adjacent, nothing to really distinguish it from many other blocks, except for the large blue building at the end of the street that was the Brooklyn Childrens museum. This

Hawthorne 2 structure, which towered over the other buildings, embodied the differential between St. Marks being just another drab block in the area and being an appealing place that attracted people from all boroughs, cultures, and backgrounds. While this building was a landmark for the city, it had for me, become a physical representation of what my home in Brooklyn meant to me. The museum had been there when I spoke my first words, as I took my first steps, when I had my first snow day, and when I first learned to ride a bike, all in Brooklyn. The museum constantly had children coming in and out of it, in a very predictable fashion especially on holidays such as Halloween when many parents would dress their kids up in some of the most ridiculous looking costumes that one may encounter. This, of course, I knew from personal experience. Having been dressed up on the morning of one Halloween as a Harlequin Clown, much to my chagrin, I was taken over to the Childrens museum for a day of fun. Despite my reluctance to go there in the odd looking costume, I somehow returned from the museum contented and happy that I went, seeming to have forgotten entirely about the ordeal from that morning of trying to resist putting the costume on. And while this was a particularly memorable moment, I had many other enjoyable experiences inside the museum that reside with me still. This museum was indeed one of the integral aspects of my childhood in Brooklyn. During the summer between my first and second grade school years, I left New York and moved to North Carolina, a far cry from anything which I had previously been used to. I went from urban to suburban, going from living in a place where buildings make up your environment and where you are surrounded by millions of people, to living where you are spaced out from others residentially, and where you are enveloped by nature. While moving to North Carolina was a major shift, my adjustment to living there came gradually, enabling me to grow accustomed to the new setting.

Hawthorne 3 Upon my return to New York after a 7 year hiatus, I initially anticipated that there had been many changes during the period of my absence. While I knew that the many of places that I had previously known had changed, I thought that they still would be recognizable for me. However, just being able to recognize the old places I used to go wasnt enough, I longed to be able to identify with these places in the way that I had before. With my impending desire to reconnect with the city, it only seems natural to return to my old brownstone on St. Marks avenue. As I look around at the streets of Brooklyn, I take note of everything that hasnt changed dramatically. The Brooklyn naval ship yard, the botanical garden, and the Brooklyn museum on Eastern Parkway, among others, still look the way they did before, providing for me, a sense of continuity and giving me reassurance that my connection to New York wasnt all lost. When we finally arrive at the corner that turns in to St. Marks avenue, I anticipate the sight of the large building of the childrens museum, only to find that the building that I had grown so used to is no longer there. In its place is a large flat building with thousands of yellow tiles that comprise the edifice. While I am stunned to see that the old building is gone, I marvel at the individual aspects of this modern building, and though my nostalgia for the block dissipates, I am strangely intrigued by the addition of the new structure to the landscape. As Colson Whitehead put it in his essay City Limits, You are a New Yorker when what was there before is more real and solid than what is here now. In his essay, Whitehead explores how ones past memories and experiences in New York, coincide with the changes that have occurred in the same spaces in which the memories were first had, and how the changes that are made alter a persons perceptions of the places which they revisit. Whitehead also discusses how you can go back to your old haunts in your previous neighborhoods and find that these places remain and have disappeared, appearing as ghosts which have been superimposed by the sprawl and development of the area. In the

Hawthorne 4 way that Whitehead described, though there was a new building physically present in its place, the image of the old Brooklyn Childrens Museum is more real and solid than what is here now. This duality of there being the old establishments in coexistence with the new, is something that I notice in the various places that I go back to. In my return, the idea that I should not forget where I came from and should hold onto the past, rings strong in my head. However, striking a balance between holding onto past and accepting the new is something that I will have to come to over time. As I walk back by my old school in Manhattan, I find that the building still looks the same way as it had when I last saw it. In my elation, I recount some of the various memories that I had with my friends at the school, most of whom Ive lost contact with. Thinking about this fact further highlights my separation from the city. After walking to the front of the building to get a different view of the school, I discover that the name of the school has been changed. In this moment, I feel as though my connection to the school as well as to the people, with whom I had attended it, has drifted away, leaving me feeling as though I was behind the tail end of the wave of change that had swept away the things that I once cared for in New York. In her essay, Mapping, Emma Wisniewski characterizes this disparity between the changes that have happened to a place which was once a central part of your memory of an area as well as the countless memories that you have had there. Wisniewski expresses this sense of loss experienced when one finds that their old haunts have been altered in writing that she might return to Jackson Avenue in Long Island City and not be able to fix memories to a location. This inevitable occurrence of finding that the place you once knew so well has noticeably changed, is what I have experienced in my return to New York. While the memories that I had both at my school as well as on my old block in Brooklyn were very important to my perception of New York, it is now inevitable that I will not be able to fix my memories to those locations, at least, not in the way I did before.

Hawthorne 5 In her article The Art of Balancing Past, Present and Future in the NOW, Teresa Goetz, explores how dwelling on our past in this way can prevent us from fully living in the present . She writes that it takes mental discipline to initiate the choice to be present. In my return to New York, I am forced to come to terms with the fact that my relationship with the city has been permanently altered. Not initiating the choice to be present in the New York of today instead of the New York in my memories, is to reject any reconnection with the city. From my current perspective, since I am unable to continue where I left off in New York, it logically follows that starting anew would be a good option. It appears that creating a fresh perspective of the city that is independent of external forces, as opposed to relying on the subjective experiences of others to form my own opinion of the city, would be the way to go. Now that I am actually on my own in New York, I have the opportunity to form my own opinions and ideas of the city. Amit Sodha, in his article Perception vs. Reality, analyzes the repercussions of having skewed and altered perceptions of events in our lives. He asserts that we as people have the power to choose how desire to perceive things, such as choosing to perceive a death as a moment of inspiration as opposed to solely being a tragic event. The knowledge of this power to take control of how to respond to the events that occur in our lives is a very beneficial thing to have in New York, given the constant changes that the city itself, as well as the people undergo. Though this process of creating a new perception of New York is something I feel is necessary, I cant help but feel that it is also necessary to remember everything that I experienced prior to my leaving New York. When pondering this matter, I am reminded of Emma Wisniewskis sentiment of there being a necessity for preserving her memory of the pointz as the time may come when there may not be a single tag for her to trace back. While I am fully aware that a part of being a New Yorker is to go back to your old haunts and reminisce about the buildings and establishments that may be more real

Hawthorne 6 to you than what is there now, I find difficulty in being able to go back to those same spots where I had so many memories and try to relive them as the place I once knew is gone and will never be there again, despite its presence in my memories. Neighborhood development and sprawl are central parts of New York and are in most cases, uncontrollable by the people who actually live in those neighborhoods where the sights and sounds constantly change. Even though I may have the power to take control over how I respond to these changes, the lasting effects that come with losing the places, in which my memories can be grounded, will continue to persist. Perhaps it is the prospects of what my life may have been like had I stayed in New York, that now makes it so difficult to not dwell on my memories here. Could I have had more opportunities presented before me? Would I have been an outstanding academic achiever had I stayed in the gifted and talented program at my school in Manhattan? Did moving to North Carolina permanently alter my lifes trajectory for the worse? All these questions and more, weigh on my mind from time to time when I think about what could have been had I never left. This curiosity from which these inquiries stem, serves as the underlying cause of the permanence of these memories, and though they are simply intangible remembrances, to me, they are just as solid as the concrete jungle of New York itself. So now, as I wrestle with the matters of taking control of how I perceive my experiences in New York, in the past and now, and the choice to be present in the current New York, I find that somehow, I am still slightly confounded. While I know that it wouldnt be beneficial to completely forget about my previous experiences in New York, I also know that it wouldnt help me to dwell on those memories, as they can never return. In a similar way, moving on and forming new perceptions of New York seems to be the progressive way of going about this; however, is it worth it to forsake those memories just because they took place in a starkly different New York? Perhaps this may be the case. As it appears now, this matter may never be fully resolved, and yet it still seems in one moment, if I were to go back

Hawthorne 7 to those old haunts I would pick up right where I left off from before, but in the next moment, I realize that this is simply, impossible.