Statues
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On Sundays, we often see Italian and French tourists walking up and down Lenox Ave popping in and out of churches or standing in lines to get into them. They stop to take pictures of brownstones and other Harlem architecture all in an effort to experience Black culture on their visits to New York City.
Image: Yesterday, Nick and I found ourselves at one of opera singer, chef, and restaurateur Alexander Smalls' legendary dinners. We were invited to bring the ice cream that was served after a very satisfying meal organized by Chef Quie of Charles Pan Fried Chicken. Smalls hosts these dinners in his Sugar Hill apartment and they are iconic.
This past Sunday morning, as I was heading to the store on Lexington Ave., I saw a tourist snapping a picture of this yellow Hummer that sits on the southwest corner of 118th St. and Lenox Avenue. This Hummer never moves. For alternate side parking, if the owner isn’t able to move the car to the other side, he pops his hood so he doesn’t have to actually start the car. When you pop the hood, the meter maids don’t give you a ticket.
I’ve never seen this car driven nor have I seen it moved beyond this corner. It is certainly a fixture in our neighborhood…a statue of sorts. It has been a topic of many conversations in our house. When our children walk past it, they ask about whether it works, why it never moves among other things. So, when I saw this tourist snapping a picture, I thought about how something that we experience throughout our daily movement in our neighborhood will be a part of the archive of her experience in Harlem.
Image: I always like passing these brownstones in Central Harlem…the plants, the arches…to good.
I wondered if she or her children would remember it; the kids looked antsy while waiting for her to take this picture of something that they did not seem to find equally interesting. And that made me think about the fact that memory, true memory, is a lived experience. It’s not just an artifact or a piece of ephemera standing in as a representation of that experience.
For our kids, that Hummer will be a part of their childhood memory of their neighborhood and for the tourist kids, they may come across the picture years after it was taken and only remember that the car existed because of the picture, not from examining it the way my kids do.
After seeing the tourist take her picture of the Hummer, I thought about how we often make adult decisions from childhood memories whether good or bad. I know that my connection to Harlem being my adult home came because of the feeling I had while traveling throughout Ghana. Everywhere I turned from the airport to the street, my skin complexion easily blended into the sea of other Black people. I wasn’t the brown speck that stuck out–I was part of a spectrum of brown hues.
Image: This young woman introduced herself to me while I was at the Lenox Ave store last week and shared that she met me when she was 13. I gasped — am I that old?! The answer is yes. She remembered me from my days hosting free art workshops for the Laundromat Project outside her building. She shared that those workshops were where she first handled and manipulated textiles. While she doesn't work in fashion or the arts now, her memory of those workshops has shaped what excites her. I'll be curious to see if she ever lets that spark shape her professional future.
I think that feeling really hit me when I saw a beauty ad for a product I can’t remember now towering over us pedestrians. The subjects were Black and they were there not as the exception but the norm. I remember feeling very comforted by that.
When you’re the racial minority in so many spaces and you finally find yourself in a space where you are the majority, your nervous system settles. I remember having the same feeling walking up and down St. Nicholas Ave. where I used to live before I got married and had kids. And, it’s the same feeling I have now while I walk around in the corner of Harlem where I live–being able to see myself reflected and knowing that this neighborhood is connected to a rich Black cultural tradition that appreciates me and doesn’t tolerate me. I can’t help but think that I have gravitated to this place because I was raised in spaces where I wasn’t the majority and in my young adult years I felt what it was like to be one of many.
For my kids, I’m not sure if that yellow Hummer will be part of their long term memories. I don’t think seeing that car day-to-day will result in any significant decisions when they’re older. But, I know that seeing the idiosyncrasies of their neighborhood will shape their sense of home.
Petrushka
Your Local Ice Cream Lady & Life/Business Coach