ENG2150: Writing New York

Above is a picture of the Woodlawn bound 4 train. I took two pictures to get my point across more clearly. As commuters, we all have to take some mode of private or public transportation. It could be a bus, train or in some cases, an uber. I take the 4 and transfer to the 6 every day as I go to school. Taking the train can get really tiring and most often uncomfortable due to the tightness and lack of personal space. The 4 train is actually one of the least spacious trains with its two-door entrance and a lean space for standing. It gets really tight to the point where people are just up against each other for the whole ride. It might be true that this goes for all trains, however, the 4 train is one to get so packed that the doors cannot be closed, yet the passengers do not feel the need to get off. At most times I end up standing for the whole 45 min commute on the 4 train with the awful traffic. One day I was taking the train with another friend of mine, who also happened to live on the 4 line. She suggested we go to the last car of the train. I was a bit confused at first for I thought it would not make a difference in what car we took. After walking into the last car of the train, I got to understand why she preferred it over the middle and front cars. In the last car, there were a lot of empty seats for my friend and I to sit on. At that moment I thought I had been gifted with the secret knowledge of easy travel, even if it might’ve been common knowledge to anyone else. I highly appreciated my friend giving me this information and hope we all get to find that one place in the trains with fewer people and more space because we all know how annoying taking the trains can be.

New York Minute – Frieze Art Fair 

Last year I went to the Frieze Art Fair on Randall’s Island. This year it will be held from May 3-6. There are a lot of galleries which offer multiple forms of visual, auditory, and tactile expression. Last year I was lucky to attend the event with my AP Graphic Design class. What made this day so memorable was the not only the artwork but my journey to  this event. On May 5, there was a terrible rain storm. The class had to walk from 56th to 33rd St to catch the Frieze Ferry to Randall’s Island. Needless to say everyone was soaked by the time we reached the ferry. When we got there we were given complimentary totes, “art passports” and mechanical color pencils. As I ventured further into the exhibits I found the first painting that really caught my attention. Koichi Enomoto’s  “Phantom Ship/ 1853”, brought over me a sense of wonder. Looking into Enomoto’s artist statement she meant for her pieces to reflect reality. This piece reflects Enomoto’s accepted perception of the world. I like the piece for its delicate detail and color scheme. Green is a predominant color which gives a sense of harmony according to color theory. The asymmetrical placement of red is what makes this piece dynamic. If you zoom into any section of the picture you’ll notice that there are various activities going on. These are activities are narratives which can be interpreted as the factions of Enomoto’s reality. Lastly, this piece really moved me because of the subject of reality depicted. I had a wonderful time with my friends and peers and am looking forward to experiencing new art this year. If you are interested in attending the art fair you can visit them at https://frieze.com/fairs/frieze-new-york and purchase tickets at  https://friezeny.tix123.com . Tickets on Friday, May 3 for 18-25 year olds are $12.00 with a $4.00 service charge per item. This is a great deal when compared to general admission for one day at $48.00 with a $4.00 service charge. I recommend checking it out as soon as possible if you are interested.

– Jasmine Mizhquiri

As I put on the board in class this morning (thanks for the correction, Mohammed), for Wednesday’s class, please be ready to discuss the following texts:

Zora Neale Hurston, “A Story in Negro Slang”  (Don’t forget to use the glossary; it’s posted on the Readings tab here on the blog.)

Langston Hughes, “When the Negro Was in Vogue”

These are both in the Writing New York anthology.

For those of you who are following along on our syllabus, yes this is a change from my original plan.  I often deviate from the syllabus once the semester is underway.  Always ask if you’re confused about an assignment, but assume that whatever I announce in class or write on the board is what you need to do!

See you on Wednesday!

JS

I was incredibly moved by this article that appeared in the New York Times yesterday.  It focuses on one incredibly tragic case of mental illness and homelessness, but it also spotlights important aspects of life in NYC.  Let me know what you think of it.

“A Bright Light, Dimmed in the Shadows of Homelessness”

One thing that many college students have in common is the struggle of making time for food; sometimes we’re lucky if we’re even able to get a meal in during the school day at all. During the times when we’re not forced to stay within the restrictions of our campus and resort to Chipotle, a deli, or halal cart food; there’s  a restaurant that I think everyone should look into. Sweet Chick is a restaurant popularly known for its signature chicken and waffles. I would always end up walking by the restaurant whenever I was in Williamsburg and was tempted to walk in. I finally ended up going and I was definitely not let down. I never realized how well the combination of chicken and waffles really was but I loved it. For those who do not prefer meat, there are other options on their menu to choose from. Aside from the Williamsburg location there is another one in the city over in Ludlow. I’ve been to both locations but the one in Williamsburg is still my favorite. I definitely would recommend going if you have the time and I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I have.

I took this picture a day when I was suppose to watch a screening for split. I was waiting flr my friends and once they go there we got on the line but unfortunately they had reached their maximum amount of people that they are allow to let inside. So we were giving a screening for the next day but the person had told us we can use it for four people when usually it only works for 2 people. The next day when we got to the movie theater again they wouldn’t let us inside. Since the guy was a different person as yesterday he didn’t believe us that we were told we could is it for four people, it wasn’t until one of my friends told him that “the bald guy from yesterday said we can use it for four” that they let us sign in and go into the movies. I have experienced something like this a lot, times when we were too late and there was no space left. But it’s a good opportunity when we do go in because it’s a free movie and we get to see it before everyone else.

Being from the Dominican Republic and having curly hair is not a good combination. I come from a country where even though more than half of our ethnicity is African, no one likes being called morena or black. These terms are generally considered negative, no matter how accurate they may be. Most people in my country categorize kinky hair as “bad hair,” and  Dominicans are taught from an early age that their hair is “bad,” and it has to be “tamed.” We deny any connection to our African ancestry and claim to be descendants of Europeans.

For me, growing up like this all felt very unreasonable, as I did not understand what was wrong with my hair; I liked it the way it was: Curly and natural. However,  when I turned ten, I began to see my older sister receive compliments from neighbors and family members whenever she would chemically straighten her hair. As I grew older, I inherited the same expectation.

At first, I was excited to get compliments like my sister would. So, my mom took me to a beauty parlor known for “taming bad hair,” and for making even the kinkiest hair straight. They processed my hair with many different chemicals, and it made my scalp burn. After that first time, it was mandatory for me to go to the beauty parlor every single weekend without fail; no one could see my hair curly anymore.

In 2013, my family moved to New York City and with the move came a great culture shock. Here, people were not openly judged by their skin color or hair type (At least not as much as they were back home in the Dominican Republic.) I saw so many women with huge kinky afros getting compliments from people on how beautiful and healthy their hair looked. It’s when I saw people for the first time in my life wanting to have curls that I realized that I did not appreciate my hair and that others made me hide something that I was born with: my hair type.

Every day in New York after I realized that all types of beauties are embraced started being way easier. By becoming a New Yorker, I realized that I could embrace my hair too and started wearing it out more often. This culturally diverse city made me realize that beauty comes in all sizes, shapes, and colors and that I have to love the things that make me who I am.

New York minute

    Recently I saw a video by Nipsey hussle on the breakfast club. For those who those who don’t know who he is, he is a rapper from la area. He brought up the point that he is not a fan of “weirdo rappers” to which he continued to explain that weirdo rappers to him where the new rappers we have now. He said that he could relate to music he grew up listening too. Such as biggie, jayz and Tupac . He said that if you had no real men figure in your life you could listen to these men and turn out okay. In essence he said that the music we have now had no true message and lacks ins pertaining and integrity. I agree with him. It makes me sad that this is the music grew up listening to because I don’t want my children listening to this. It’s more noise then it is actual music and I very much so enjoy it . It isn’t quality music in my opinion. Real music evokes emotion whether it be good or bad.

        I also feel like music is a reflection of the time period it was made. Truthfully speaking my generation has the worst music by far. Is this music really a reflection of us and who we are as individuals.

This photograph was taken at the Fulton Street train stop on the A, 4, 5, 6, line. This stop in particular is close to the World Trade Center. What I want to share about this particular spot is that this is where a woman on the train was looking to arrive while on the R train heading to Brooklyn. She looked lost, confused and took the chance to ask another woman on the train for directions in Spanish. As I’ve said in class, I tend to stay out of these New York moments because my thick-skinned self would rather not. However…I thought of how my mom barely lets her chancla touch a train car. Not to mention how lost she would be if she had to take the MTA alone. The woman, with her two children at her hips had told her if she takes the E train or this train to Cortlandt Street she would arrive just fine. After some reluctance, I spoke up and asked her what the problem was. After explaining to her that the directions given to her by the mother were correct, she had simply denied our claims. It had us both dumbfounded, and left us thinking; why would you ask for directions if you claim to know where it is? 5 minutes later, she gets off at Prince Street. Next thing I know, me and this mother are talking about how ridiculous it was to ask for our help to tell us we are incorrect. Then I thought of my Mom, and how she, being the stubborn woman that she is, would probably do the same to practically anyone especially me. It was enlightening to see myself connect with a total stranger for brief moment, whilst having her wish me a safe travel home from Baruch. I later got off at City Hall, and looked to the left seeing the World Trade Center close by, and wondered if she made it to her destination safely.

This is where I walk everyday to get to the train station. I’ve seen this view in the early morning, afternoon and late at night. I like walking her because it is some what isolated and it helps me to think about important things that might have been bothering me through the day. As you see in the picture there is a walkway but before there wasn’t any it was just the street. I’ve seen this street remodel and the street has seen me grow. I’ve been walking here for around 5 years now.